False Pretenses - Kathy Herman [51]
Terrell shifted in his chair. “I held a gun on him. He was scared and beggin’ for his life. It was funny. And pathetic.”
“Really?” Aimee pursed her lips. “Because Remy had the mind of a seven-year-old child. A child might beg to go home—or to see his mom or dad. But a child wouldn’t beg for his life. He doesn’t understand death.”
“Well, that’s what happened. You weren’t there.”
And I’m beginning to think you weren’t, Jude thought. This isn’t adding up. “Mr. Terrell, where’s the gun you held on Remy?”
“I panicked and threw it in the river. That was before I decided to confess.”
“What kind of gun?”
“A Glock .45.”
“Let me make sure I understand this,” Jude said. “You never fired it, and there’s no way we could prove you used it in the commission of the crime, and yet you threw a fine gun like that in the river?”
The expression left Terrell’s face. “I said I panicked. Look, I just confessed that I hanged Jarvis. You have to tell the media. People want the truth.”
“Then you’re going to have to plug up the holes in your confession.”
“What holes? I did it. What more do you need to know?”
Aimee folded her arms across her chest. “There’s an aspect of Remy’s death you’re leaving out. Tell us what it is, and we’ll go straight to the media. Every cable channel in the country is on pins and needles, waiting for us to release the name of the killer.”
“I told you I hanged the guy. What more do you want from me?”
“The truth,” Jude coaxed. “So why don’t you stop playing games and just admit you slit his wrists and let him bleed out?”
“Oh, thaaat.” The corners of Marcum’s mouth curled up. “I only did it to tranquilize him so I could get the noose around his neck. It was fun, like killin’ him twice. But I didn’t have any help. I did it all myself.”
“What did you use to slit his wrists?”
“My pocket knife. But I washed it in Clorox. You’re not going to find blood on it.”
“That’s enough.” Jude shot Aimee a knowing look. “We’re done here. Deputy Chief Rivette will see you out.”
“Come on, Marcum.” Aimee stood. “Looks like you’re not going to make headlines after all.”
“But I just confessed everything! I’m guilty of a hate crime. You have to arrest me.”
Aimee took him by the elbow. “You’re not the killer.”
“But I am the killer. I did it. I hung Remy Jarvis. What part of my story doesn’t fit? Maybe I just didn’t say it right. Ask me again. Let me prove it to you.”
Jude shook his head. “You’re not our guy, Mr. Terrell. There are details we tried to get you to supply. It’s obvious you don’t know. We’re looking for a killer, not someone who’s craving media attention.”
Aimee walked out with Marcum Terrell, and Jude folded his hands on the table and let out a loud sigh. They were right back where they started.
CHAPTER 16
Zoe leaned against the trunk of a massive live oak that shaded the concession patio at Roux River Park. An elderly man, his arms folded and head bowed, was asleep in a white plastic lawn chair next to a picnic table where a woman and three school-age children were eating snow cones. The parking lot was filled with cars, and the swimming pool was packed, but she didn’t see many people walking in the park. Probably too hot.
Zoe came dressed in capris and a tank top and a comfortable pair of walking shoes. She glanced at her watch. 4:50. Time to get this over with. She breathed in slowly and let it out, then began walking toward the woods and the sign that marked the starting point on Landry Trail.
She wondered if the mystery man was already waiting for her at the first turn. She hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave the trail in the ten minutes she’d been standing near the concession patio. Her stomach felt as if an army of tiny soldiers were marching on it. Was it over-the-top reckless, meeting a stranger at a secluded place? She reached into her pocket and felt the mini can of pepper spray. There wouldn’t be a whisper of a breeze in the woods—should she need to take aim. Why was her heart beating so fast? All she had to do is tell the truth for a change.
Zoe stopped in front of the attractive