Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(63)

With stealth, the stranger eased under the faint light from the porch. He was dressed in a dark hoodie and dark pants. As soon as he reached the steps, Will sprang from the car, his gun raised. “Police! Put your hands where I can see them.”

The man whirled around and broke for the street. Will chased him, tackling him at the corner of the house. Air whooshed from the man’s lungs.

“Wait! I’m a private investigator!” He reached toward his jacket.

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He halted halfway to his pocket and held his hands up. “Okay.”

Will climbed to his feet. “Stand up and tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

Grunting, the man pushed up from the ground. “Gerald Caldwell. Caldwell Investigations. I have my credentials in my front pocket.”

Will patted him down and pulled a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson from a shoulder holster.

“I have a permit to carry.”

“I don’t doubt that, and this is a good way to lose it. Let me see your credentials.”

Caldwell fished his wallet out and flipped it open. “Can we sit down somewhere? When you knocked me down, I hurt my knee.”

“How about at the CJC?” The credentials looked legit.

“There’s a Waffle House around the corner. How about there?”

Will might get more out of him at the fast food place, and he wasn’t worried about the detective running off, since Will knew where to find him. “I’ll follow you.”

After they arrived, Will followed Caldwell into the Waffle House. Two truckers sat on stools, leaving them their pick of booths. Will ordered coffee, but Caldwell ordered a full breakfast with waffles. In the lighted restaurant, Will remembered seeing the private investigator around the courthouse, and understood why some of the cops called him the Hawk with his hooked nose and dark eyes.

“Haven’t eaten since noon,” he said.

“So, tell me why you were snooping around Andi Hollister’s apartment.”

“A client asked me to contact her.”

Will waited.

“That’s privileged information.”

“I can always take you downtown and ask.”

“All right,” Caldwell grumbled. “I can give you maybe a little more. After her segment on runaways on Tuesday night, I got this call from a parent. She wanted me to contact Andi about her daughter.”

“So why were you lurking around the back of the house? Why not just call her?”

“I tried calling the station and was told they would give her my number. When I didn’t hear anything, I thought I’d stop by and see her. I tried the front door and no one answered,” he said. “When I saw there was a light on, I figured she was still up. It’s only ten, so I was going to knock on her back door.”

“How did you get her address?”

Caldwell eyed Will. “Uh, phone book?”

Andi was listed in the phone book? Was she nuts? That was an invitation to all the crazies in Memphis. He wondered if Brad knew. Something else occurred to him—he’d just seen Caldwell’s name in the list of people Barnes had interviewed. “Your name was in the case file on Stephanie Hollister’s death. Why?”

The private investigator shrugged. “Wasn’t that in the report?”

“I thought you might have remembered something since then.” Whatever was said between Caldwell and Barnes wasn’t in the report.

“Nothing has changed.”

“Then you won’t mind going over it again. Why did Barnes interview you?”

The waitress approached with his breakfast, and Caldwell leaned back. “Looks good, young lady.”

She set Will’s coffee in front of him. “Cream?”

He shook his head, and as soon as she left, he repeated his question.

“Give me a minute to remember.” He cut into the sausage and popped half a link into his mouth. “Okay, it was like this. I had a client who wanted the Hollister woman checked out. Seems her son was interested in her and she wasn’t happy about that.”

Will hadn’t expected that. “So, did you discover anything?”

“Should be in that report you have.”

“That wasn’t the question I asked.”

“Let me pull it together while I finish eating.”

Evidently, Caldwell suspected there was no report on his conversation with Barnes, maybe even knew there wasn’t. Will nursed his coffee until Caldwell finished his meal. His gaunt frame indicated he didn’t eat like this all the time, or he had an extra fast metabolism.

“That was good.” The investigator blotted his mouth with a napkin. “I don’t understand why you’re looking into the Hollister case. The woman is dead, and her killer is scheduled to be executed in three days.”

Will restrained himself from reaching across the table and grabbing the thin man by the shirt collar. If he knew that much about the case, he also knew Will was Jimmy’s cousin. Why was he baiting him? “I just joined the Cold Case Unit, and I’m looking into it,” he said evenly.

“It’s not a cold case. Jimmy Shelton was convicted.”

“Why do you know so much about this case?”

“How about I trade information? I’d like to know Jillian Bennett’s whereabouts. You give me that and I’ll tell you what I discovered when I investigated Stephanie Hollister.”