Dead Woman Crossing by J.R. Adler (books on motivation .txt) 📗

Wyatt nodded.

“Sorry, but I need it to be verbal.”

“Yes… I understand.”

Sam nodded and walked out of the room.

Kimberly stood from her seat, following Sam. She looked back once more at Wyatt, who was practically folded over in his chair. She felt sorry for him even though he had broken the law. But then again, was right and wrong that black and white when it came to providing and caring for your own flesh and blood? Kimberley couldn’t be so sure anymore.

“Bearfield and Burns,” Sam called out. Both deputies rose from their desks immediately. “I need you to process Ryan and Wyatt, and then I need you to go out to the Turner Farm and search the outbuildings on the property for evidence pertaining to the illegal manufacturing of moonshine. Confiscate any alcohol at The Trophy Room that doesn’t have proof of purchase as well.”

The deputies nodded.

“I want to see my husband,” a voice yelled, echoing through the sheriff’s station.

Moments later, Emily emerged through a set of doors from the front with Barbara in tow, trying to stop her. She looked different from earlier, stronger, and she wasn’t in her typical old-fashioned looking dresses. Emily was wearing blue jeans and a T-shirt. Her hair was a little messy, not perfectly in place as Kimberley had always seen it. Her face was red and blotchy like she had been crying, but it was clear now that her sadness had turned to anger. Her eyes were narrowed, her jaw clenched, and her lips tight. She marched right up to Sam and Kimberley, staring them both down. Barbara only half followed her, stopping in the middle of the room.

“I demand to see my husband,” Emily said, raising her chin.

“You can’t. He hasn’t been processed yet,” Kimberley said, trying to reason with her.

“Oh, piss off! Processed for what?”

“Illegal manufacturing and distribution of spirits. He confessed of his own volition.”

Emily looked daggers at Kimberley. “How dare you come into my house, eat my food, drink my wine, and then you do this to us. You have ruined my family.”

“Your husband…” Kimberley stopped herself. There was no point in arguing with Emily. Her world now had a patina of filth over it and until it was cleaned up, she’d only see the ugly in everyone and everything.

“You’ve got five minutes, Emily,” Sam said softly. “He’s in there. Go on. But don’t do anything stupid or make a scene and make me regret this.” He motioned to the interrogation room where Wyatt was.

Emily nodded, and walked right in, not saying another word to anyone else.

As soon as the door to the interrogation room closed, Sam and Kimberley walked to the viewing room.

“Hi, Em,” Wyatt said, lifting his head.

“Don’t ‘Hi, Em,’ me.” She slammed her tote bag on the table. “I can’t believe you did this to us.” Emily shook her head.

“I did this for us.”

“Bullshit. Right when things got tough, you turned to crime to solve your problems. You have ruined us.”

“I’ll fix this, Emily. I swear, I’ll fix everything,” Wyatt pleaded.

“No. You are done ‘fixing’ things. You’ve had your shot. You clearly don’t know what you’re doing, so from now on, I’ll be making the decisions. Handling the finances and cleaning up the mess you’ve made is my new job.” Emily threw her hands on her hips.

Wyatt didn’t argue. He wasn’t in the position to disagree with her.

“What am I supposed to tell the boys? Did you even think about them when you were out there breaking the goddamn law?” Emily slammed her dainty fist against the table, startling Wyatt.

“Of course I thought about them. It’s why I did it, so I could provide for my family.”

“There are other ways, legal ones.”

Wyatt lowered his head, dropping eye contact with his wife.

“After you’re processed and the judge sets bail, I’ll figure out a way to come up with the money. But know this, Wyatt. You’re not coming back to your house. You’re coming back to mine.” Emily picked up her tote and left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Sam gave a slight nod and left the viewing room, walking through the station back to his office. Kimberley followed behind, unsure of what was next. They’d hit a dead end in the case again. She sat down across from him while he leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on his desk. He crossed one foot over the other, looking up at the ceiling. Kimberley knew that look. It was the “maybe if I stare off at nothing for long enough, I’ll catch a fucking break in this case” look. She had had it many times.

Sam’s phone rang, and he quickly pulled it from his belt.

“Sheriff Walker.”

“It’s Megan Grey. Results are in for the forensic exam.”

“And?”

“We’ve got nothing. Body was clean. Not a shred of DNA. Rape kit came back clean as well. There’s literally nothing to go on.”

“Fuck.”

Kimberley stiffened.

“Sorry I didn’t have better news for you. I went over everything with a microscope. I can’t find something that’s not there.”

Sam briefly closed his eyes. “I know you did. Thanks for your help.” He ended the call, tossing his phone on his desk.

“What’s up?” she asked.

Sam rubbed his face. “Forensics came back. Everything was clean. Not a shred of evidence.”

“Fucking fuck,” Kimberley said, clenching her fists. “So, we’ve got nothing.”

Sam took a deep breath and slightly nodded, unwilling to fully admit how completely fucked they were on this case.

“We got a decapitated body left by a creek with a single bullet to the head. A fourteen-month-old girl as our only witness. No DNA evidence. Phone calls to a presumably unregistered number, but no texts that would indicate any sort of a relationship,” Sam thought out loud.

Kimberley said nothing.

“Hill,” Sam yelled.

Moments later, Hill appeared in the doorway.

“What have you got on outside-town visitors?”

Hill cleared his throat. “Not much. Motel guests came back clean. A family on a cross-country road trip. A couple of elderly couples.