Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(92)

She had a fit of coughing, and he waited for her to catch her breath.

“Thanks.” He’d like to believe they’d get over it, but if it took him looking the other way . . . he couldn’t. Just like he couldn’t look the other way if he discovered Jimmy actually killed Stephanie. Jimmy. Will had less than forty-eight hours to dig up evidence that he could take to a judge for a stay of execution.

If Laura Delaney had been onboard and presented the evidence they had to the appellate court and requested a stay, it would have been enough to get a stay. But if she was in on the smuggling, he understood why she was fighting him. If the appellate court didn’t rule in favor of Jimmy, their last chance would be the governor.

“You still there?”

“I’m sorry, I was thinking about Jimmy.”

“Mae’s worried sick. Are you closer to getting a reprieve?”

“I hope so.” Didn’t David say something about his brother knowing the governor? Why didn’t he already have him working on getting clemency? His heart ramped up. Maybe it was time to push that idea.

“Uh, can I call you back? I just thought of someone I need to call.”

“Sure.”

He winced at the disappointment in her voice. “How about once this is over, I take you out to eat?”

“Really?”

“Really. You can name the place.”

“That would be nice, but you don’t have to.”

He hesitated. “But I want to.”

After he hung up, he realized he really did want to take her out to eat. Something was different about her, and maybe they could have a second chance at a relationship. He pressed a button on his steering wheel and said, “Call David Raines.”

For once the machine understood him, and David was soon on the phone. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Didn’t you say your brother knows the governor?”

Silence met his question, and then David cleared his throat. “I did. I’d hoped that we’d get the evidence to take to a judge before now. I’ll call my brother first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Anything new?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather brief you in person. I’m on my way to meet a TBI agent about the guard’s pickup.” Will checked his watch. He’d barely make it by one.

“How about as soon as you get back? I’m at the Hollister house, searching Stephanie’s studio.”

“I’ll call you on the way back to Memphis.”





31


AN HOUR LATER, Will turned into the body shop parking area and drove behind the building. A white Ford SUV sat near the back doors, and a man in jeans and a sport shirt stood near the wrecker loaded with Larry Ray Johnson’s pickup.

Will approached him. “I’m Will Kincade,” he said and showed his badge. “That’s quite a mess, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” He pointed to the badge on his belt loop. “Ross Carter, TBI agent. I’m waiting for someone with tools to cut the cab off.”

“Did you look at the undercarriage?”

He nodded. “Saw where the tie rod end came out. That just doesn’t happen often, not with a vehicle that’s been kept up like this one.”

Will’s thoughts too. They both turned as a fire engine pulled around the corner of the building and two firemen hopped off, wielding cutting tools. Following the fire engine was a Tennessee patrol car, and Will scanned his memory for the patrolman’s name. Lee. Richard Lee.

“Sorry I’m late.” Lee carried a briefcase, and he nodded at both men. “But I stopped off at headquarters and picked up the envelope with Johnson’s personal effects. Thought I’d take it to the family—he died an hour ago.”

The news shook Will, and he balled his hands. Every lead seemed to be slipping away. Whoever caused this accident was ruthless, and Will wanted to nail him. “Any leads on the accident?” Will asked.

Lee took out his notebook. “There’s a truck stop five miles west of where it happened. Showed the photo from his driver’s license around the establishments, and one waitress remembered seeing him. Said he came in by himself, and then another man joined him. It wasn’t long until Johnson left—skedaddled is the way she put it.”

Yes! “Did you get a description of the other man?”

Lee nodded. “Big guy with a beard. He ordered a steak sandwich to go.” He took a drawing from the briefcase. “I don’t normally do this with wrecks, but this one really bothered me, so I had her describe the man to a sketch artist.”

Carter looked over Will’s shoulder at the sketch. “Mean-looking dude.”

Indeed he was. Will examined the photo. The man’s neck was much skinnier than his chest. Does he have on a fat suit? Will focused on the eyes. It was the one part of the body that was almost impossible to disguise. Color could be changed, but not how the eyes were set in a person’s face or the arch of the eyebrows.

He’d seen those eyes before, but where? “Do you have a name for the waitress?”

“Josie Weatherford. She’s at the Blue Cafe. It’s in the Exxon Service Plaza.”

“Got this door off,” yelled one of the firemen.