Playing Dead_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [74]
“Claire, do you need black-and-white proof that your father is innocent or do you believe that he is innocent absent proof of another’s guilt?”
Claire let out a pent-up breath. She had never thought of it that way. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it. She needed to blame someone for destroying her family. “Someone is guilty.”
Bill nodded. “And I think Oliver figured it out. But he didn’t share his conclusions with me. We spoke twice. The first time was right before Christmas. He explained his findings and theory to me and asked some questions about police procedures.”
“What did he know?”
“He knew very little. He had reviewed the police reports and discovered that no one had seriously looked into the Chase Taverton angle back then. He thought that was odd, and I concurred. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was out of the loop because I had a conflict of interest. And, frankly, most of the cops I knew suspected Tom was guilty. He had always been a bit of a hothead. I didn’t know him personally, but it all came out during the trial. You know that.”
“He never hurt me or my mom.”
“I don’t doubt that, Claire. He loves you.”
She frowned. “Anything else? I’m trying to figure out what Oliver Maddox knew that got him killed.”
“You think it’s murder? Not an accident?”
“He disappeared after telling his girlfriend he was almost done with his thesis on ‘The Perfect Frame.’ But she didn’t know where his thesis went. I’m certain that Oliver was referring to my dad’s case, that he believed my dad was framed. And I—” What did she really believe?
“I think he might have been right,” she said.
Bill leaned forward. “Might have been? Are you still qualifying your answers? If Oliver was murdered, he uncovered something big enough and dangerous enough that he was a threat to someone with the ability and lack of conscience to kill. And that person most likely killed your mother and Taverton.”
“Do you think my dad is innocent?”
“Yes.”
“Did you always think so?”
“No.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Time.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Time away from the trial. Time away from the impact the trial made on the community, on you, on the people I worked with. When a cop goes bad, it’s hard. You want it to go away. But listening to Oliver brought it all back, and I saw the holes in the case.”
“Why didn’t anyone else see them? All the appeals?”
“Appeals are a very limited redress. You have to appeal specifics, like an un-Mirandized confession or false testimony or incompetent counsel. Tom didn’t have the money to pay for a separate investigation. He relied on an overworked criminal defender—and that still cost him tens of thousands of dollars. Probably more. He put fifty thousand in a trust fund for you and used the rest for his defense. But when the money was gone, he went to public defenders. The appeals were routine, delaying the inevitable. Nothing substantive came from them. When Tom thought the Project was taking his case, he had hope.”
“You talked to him?”
“Yes. He called after Oliver Maddox came to see him.”
“But Oliver wasn’t with the Project.”
“No. He lied, I realize now, but his heart was in the right place. He recovered Chase Taverton’s day planner and told me he was retracing Taverton’s steps based on what was written in there.”
“Why didn’t the police do that?”
“The day planner was his personal calendar. His public calendar only had active cases on it, and that’s what the police were using. His personal calendar was apparently in the possession of