Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(62)

Mom parked in the driveway behind Steph’s ’68 Miata, and Andi rushed inside the studio.

“Guess what, Stephanie! The doctor—”

Stephanie lay sprawled on the floor with red paint on her chest.

The screams echoed through Andi’s head, first her mother’s then her own. She fell to her knees beside her sister. “Please, Steph,” she sobbed. “Don’t die.”

Her sister’s eyes fluttered open. “The horse . . . yours . . .”

Andi looked up, and Will’s eyes were shiny, just like she knew hers were. “She gave me the horse. Then she was gone.”



Will wanted to take Andi in his arms and kiss away the pain in those brown eyes. He was pretty sure she would not rebuff him. But if he ever kissed her, he wanted it to be at her invitation and not because he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability. Instead he said, “I’m sorry.”

She hugged her arms to her body and continued like she hadn’t heard him. “When I turned around, I saw Jimmy on the sofa with a gun in his hand. He was so drunk I don’t think he even knew we were there.”

Will had never heard the details of how Andi and her mom found Stephanie and then discovered Jimmy with the gun that killed her. “What happened next?”

“Everything else about that night is a blur. By then Mom had called 911 and the police arrived . . .” She brushed her hair back with her fingers. “I think Maggie was there, and Laura.” She looked up and shook her head. “The others probably were too, but I just don’t remember.”

Could he be wrong? Was it possible that Jimmy had killed Stephanie? He chewed his thumbnail. No. He didn’t believe that. He needed to look at the file again, and it was in the car.

But not now, and not here with Andi. She needed rest, and if she got involved with the file, that wouldn’t happen.

He took her hand and wanted to hold so much more when their gazes locked. “I hate to leave you, but you look done in.” She started to protest, and he put his finger on her lips. “For once, listen to me. Lock the door behind me and set the alarm, then go to bed.”

She gave him a tiny smile. “Yes, sir,” she said softly.

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I wish I could believe you’d do that.”

“I have film to edit.”

“Aren’t there people at the station who can do that?”

She looked up at him under raised eyebrows. “You know me better than that. It’s mine and Treece’s project, and nobody works on it but us.”

“At least take a nap before you get started,” he said and stood.

She walked to the door with him. “That I may do.”

At the door, he said, “Do you think you could let me into Stephanie’s studio tomorrow? I hate to bother your parents.”

She froze. “I haven’t been in there since that night. No one has, really. Dad locked it up as soon as the police were finished.”

The pain in her eyes sent a dagger to his heart. “Forget it,” he said softly. “I’ll get Brad to help me.”

She took a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

Once he was in his car, he debated whether to go home or study the file right there in the car so he could keep an eye on Andi’s apartment. From his vantage point, he could see the whole driveway and street.

He’d stay at least until she went to bed. He reached in the backseat for the file and used the light on his phone to sort through it. It was obvious from reading Barnes’s notes that he believed from the outset it was a cut-and-dried case. Jimmy killed Stephanie, and once he had Jimmy’s confession, coerced or not, he wasn’t about to look any further.

Will sorted through the papers, looking for the report on gunshot residue that should have been conducted on Jimmy’s hands and clothes. Frowning, he repeated his search. It wasn’t there. Evidently, Barnes didn’t conduct one. Why hadn’t the public defender picked up on that?

If there ever was a no-good, lazy cop, it was Barnes. Will snapped a photo of the report and emailed it to David with a note of what it was and where it came from, adding that Jimmy had not been tested for gunshot residue.

Then he sent the same report to Brad. It would take showing his friend how badly Barnes botched the investigation to get him fully on board. His cell phone rang, and he turned the flashlight off before he answered. “Kincade.”

“Will. This is Madeline Starr. I understand you’re driving up to see Jimmy in the morning. Could you pick me up in Jackson and let me ride along with you? I hate that drive alone.”

“I’d be honored, ma’am.”

“Great. And it’s Maggie, not ma’am.”

“See you in Jackson, say nine?” A red glow on the street caught his eye. A man was standing at the entrance to the drive with a cigarette in his hand.

“Nine should be about right. I’ll be at the courthouse.”

“Great. See you then.”

Will hung up and sat still. The moon was covered with clouds and there was no overhead light on the side of the house, so he couldn’t see the man’s features, only shadows from the streetlights. He was only assuming it was a man by the size. Six-one at least.

The red glow bounced on the drive as the man threw the cigarette down then walked to the back of the house. Will scooted down in the seat and unstrapped his gun. He bunched his muscles, waiting.