Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(23)

“No,” Will said. “I called ahead and requested an interview, citing Jimmy’s connection to a murder investigation.”

“Will we be in the same room with him?”

“I have been in the past when I visited, but I’m not sure, since you’re with me. It’ll either be a small conference room or one with glass between us. Jimmy has a Level A classification.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s not violent and can move about without restraints.”

“On death row?”

“Every prison is different, but if a prisoner proves he’s trustworthy, he gets benefits. Even on death row.”

Her stomach rebelled at that news. She didn’t want to be that close to the man who’d murdered her sister. What if he didn’t? But he did. She kept swinging back and forth on that. And at this moment in time, she didn’t think anything he said, or even showed her, would change her mind. “How does a murderer get labeled nonviolent?”

“He’s never given any trouble. Jimmy never was a violent person, but he would defend himself when he had to. Unfortunately, not too long before Stephanie’s murder, he was in a barroom fight, and the other person hit his head on the corner of a table and ended up in a coma. The prosecutor didn’t buy his defense plea and neither did the judge he went before. He should have asked for a jury trial.”

“So that was why he was charged with capital murder in Stephanie’s case?”

“Yeah.” Will gripped the steering wheel. “If it hadn’t been for the felony conviction, he couldn’t have been charged with capital murder. But the DA was young and newly elected. Out to prove himself.”

Andi had never considered that Jimmy could have been charged with something other than capital murder. “Did you know that the current DA, Laura Delaney, was one of the women who lived in the house with Stephanie?”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. I don’t know her well at all, and we’ve never discussed Stephanie. I’ve thought about asking her questions, but . . .” Andi shrugged. “She seems kind of distant.”

It wasn’t long before they exited off the interstate and arrived at the prison. When they finally were escorted to a room, Jimmy Shelton was already there, waiting. In her mind all these years, he’d been the good-looking former athlete who rode a Harley, and his appearance now shocked her. His once-shaggy hair was now close-cropped and mostly gray, washing out his pasty skin. When he looked her way, his faded gray eyes had the look of someone whose dog had just died.

“You wasted your time,” Jimmy said, his voice flat, unemotional. “The letter is gone.”



“What do you mean, the letter is gone?” Will said. How could it have disappeared? Unless it never existed.”

“Someone took it.”

Will balled his hands. “How could anyone do that?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and scanned the room. “You have to ask? This is a prison, not Sunday school.”

Andi stepped forward. “Where is the corrections officer Will talked to on the phone? Can we talk to him?”

Jimmy turned and stared at her. Recognition lit his eyes. “Andi?” He gave a slight shake of his head. “You’re all grown up.”

“Can we talk to the CO who called last night?” Will repeated Andi’s words.

“Walter Simmons?” Jimmy’s shoulders slumped. “He won’t be on until tonight at seven, and it could be his night off.”

“Did anyone else see the letter?” Will asked.

“Of course. All mail is scanned for contraband to make sure no one is trying to break out.”

“Maybe we could talk to whoever takes care of that,” Andi said.

Will shook his head. “I doubt the letter would be remembered. There are eight hundred inmates who receive daily mail. Our time will be better spent talking to the CO who called.”

Jimmy frowned. “Why is seeing the letter so important? Why don’t you just ask Lacey?”

Silence descended into the room.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Lacey Wilson is dead,” Andi said. “Murdered last night.”

“Or she committed suicide,” Will added.

What little color had been in his cousin’s face drained away as he closed his eyes. “And without the letter, you don’t believe me,” he said.

“It doesn’t matter whether we believe you or not—without it, there’s nothing to work with.”

“It matters to me. Do you or don’t you believe me?”

Will held his cousin’s blunt stare. “Before I tell you, why did you confess?”

Jimmy put his hands on the table. “That detective . . . he kept saying over and over again that I did it. I didn’t remember anything . . . I just wanted him to shut up. To get off my back. My attorney had it suppressed, but until the letter from Lacey came, I believed I must have killed Stephanie.”

“And now?” Andi asked. She sat in the chair beside Will and leaned toward Jimmy. “Did you kill my sister?”

He ran his tongue over his lips. “I thought I did. It’s why I never really fought the conviction, other than to go through the automatic legal process and a couple of appeals my public defender insisted on. But now, I just don’t know anymore.