She Wanted It All - Kathryn Casey [99]
When she spoke to them, Celeste concentrated on Kristina, telling her it was important she say they were both home by midnight and that they’d talked before going to bed. “They might try to say I’m involved in this,” she told her. “The police could make anyone seem guilty, even you and Jennifer. We have to protect each other.”
Then Celeste spent that morning as she had so many others, shopping. The telephone rang at Louis Shanks Furniture, and she asked for her regular salesman, Greg Logsdon.
“Greg, I need something,” she said.
“How’s your husband?” he asked. “I heard about what happened.”
“In the hospital,” she said. “Listen, I need a new mattress for the master bedroom, and a new rug for beside the bed. Would your men mind taking the old mattress with them? Would they mind moving a mattress with blood on it?”
That taken care of, Celeste drove to Foley’s department store, where she purchased a replacement set of king-size Ralph Lauren sheets. The police had taken the bloodstained set that was on the bed when the bullet ripped through Steve as evidence.
Meanwhile, Jennifer followed orders and left a voice mail for Stacy Sadler, the travel agent. When Sadler played Jennifer’s message back, she heard tears in the teenager’s voice. There’d been an emergency, Jen said, and her parents’ trip had to be cancelled. Later in the day Celeste called personally, demanding the money from the trip insurance she’d purchased, more than $50,000. Stacy explained it would take four to six weeks.
“I need the money now,” Celeste insisted.
“I’m sorry Mrs. Beard,” Stacy said. “There’s nothing I can do.”
Back at his office, Wines and an ID tech shipped Tracey’s shotgun to ballistics at the Texas Department of Safety, DPS. A second shotgun was going as well. On a later search of the house, Jennifer had pointed out a shotgun she’d hidden in the attic, one she’d bought to give Christopher for their first anniversary as boyfriend and girlfriend. It, too, was a .20 gauge. This second shotgun was in the box. The tape sealing it appeared to be original and undisturbed, and Wines doubted it had anything to do with the shooting. But to be sure, he labeled and documented both guns to be tested.
That finished, Wines headed back to the hospital. If Steve could communicate, the detective wanted to have a preliminary interview to find out what he knew about the shooting and the days leading up to it. But when Wines arrived at Brackenridge’s ICU, Celeste waited for him, and she was livid.
“You’re not going in there,” she said.
“Why not?” Wines asked. Victims and their families can act in odd ways, but in all his years on the force he’d never had any become as defensive as Celeste
“I’m his wife and I have a legal right to keep you out of his room. Our family has hired Charles Burton,” she said. “If you need anything further from us, you’ll have to go through him.”
Wines had known Burton for years. His firm, Minton Burton Foster and Collins, was an Austin powerhouse, the most prestigious in the city. Wines looked at Celeste. This was another first. He’d never had a victim’s family hire a criminal defense attorney before. No doubt about it, he thought. That gun’s going to be a match, and that woman’s involved.
Before the day was over, Celeste would also rescind her consent for further searches at the house on Toro Canyon and post a handwritten sign on the door to Steve’s hospital room:
NO LAW ENFORCEMENT PERSONNEL ALLOWED TO INTERVIEW PATIENT EXCEPT IN THE PRESENCE OF HIS ATTORNEY.
That afternoon, Becky Beard arrived at Brackenridge to see her father. The nurses turned her away, but Wines happened to be there. The day before, he’d talked to all Steve’s grown children. He’d told them little except that the investigation was under way. Individually, each had advised him to consider Celeste. They seemed sure she was behind the shooting. Wines assured them he was following every lead.
When Wines saw the nurse refuse