Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [38]
A black Impala pulled into the lot and parked in the spot Sean had been watching. He got out of the car and walked over to the sidewalk to wait for the warden to turn off his engine.
“Hey, Mercer. Whatcha doing out here?” Warden Fred McCabe rolled his large self out from behind the wheel of the car. Newly promoted from assistant warden to warden, he took his time getting from one place to another.
“Wanted to have a few words with one of your boys.”
“Inmate or employee?”
“Inmate.” Sean extended his hand when McCabe drew close enough to shake it.
“Who do you need?” They headed for the prison entrance.
“Archer Lowell.”
“Lowell?” McCabe frowned. “What would you want with him?”
“Need to ask him some questions about his stalking techniques.”
McCabe stopped in midstride. “He hasn’t been in contact with her, has he? Because if he has, I’ll have his sentence doubled. The district attorney himself warned that little shit that he was to have no contact with his victim. I guess it didn’t hurt that her brother was a detective down there in Lyndon, you know? Heard he’s working for the county now.”
“I heard.” Sean paused. “Do you know him personally? The brother, I mean . . .”
“Evan? Sure. He’s a good cop. Maybe the best they had.” McCabe held the door open for Sean. “Man, he was incensed when he heard about how she’d reported everything and how old chief Anderson blew her off.”
“I know the story.”
“Well, suffice it to say that Evan raised so much hell with the D.A. that there was no choice but to fire the poor bastard. There were some who thought Crosby went a little too far with that.” McCabe waved to the receptionist and started down the hall to his office, Sean right behind him. “Course, that bastard Lowell had tried to kill his sister. Guess it would tend to piss off just about anyone, you know. I mean, if it had been your sister . . .” He opened his office door and stood aside for Sean to enter. “So why the sudden interest in Lowell?”
“Amanda Crosby’s business partner was murdered last week in Broeder.” Sean took a seat on a chair that was every bit as uncomfortable as it looked.
“That gay guy? The one who was shot through the head?” McCabe took off his jacket and hung it on a shiny brass coatrack that looked out of place in the dull surroundings. “I heard about that. Didn’t realize he was the same guy, though.”
“The same guy who’d been threatened by Lowell, the same guy Lowell thought was out to steal his girl . . .”
“Yeah, right. Like a woman like that Crosby girl was gonna give the time of day to a punk like Archer Lowell.” McCabe looked disgusted. “He beat her up, you know? Broke a few of her ribs, broke a couple of her fingers. Messed up her face, too, I heard.”
Sean held up a hand to stop him. “I read the reports.” He didn’t want to discuss Amanda’s beating at the hands of Archer Lowell. He’d seen the pictures, and they’d made him not only ill, but angry.
“Other than the fact that this guy was threatened by Lowell over a year ago, what’s the connection?”
“I don’t know that there is one. I just want to talk to him.” Sean wasn’t ready to share with anyone the possibility that Amanda may have drawn the attention of someone who appeared to be following in Lowell’s footsteps.
“I’ll have him brought up.” McCabe grabbed the phone and gave the order to bring Archer Lowell to interview room twelve as soon as possible. “You remember the way?”
The first thing that occurred to Sean when Archer Lowell shuffled into the room was that he looked way too young to be harbored here with so many hardened criminals. The second thing was that there appeared to be little or no life in his eyes.
No sign of intelligent life, Sean amended.
“Who are you?” Lowell asked as he sat down in the plastic chair.