The Night Stalker_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [95]
“You said the neighbors knew something was wrong with Abb,” I said. “How did they know?”
“Abb left the house at night and strolled around the neighborhood. One of my neighbors caught him peeking in their windows; another found him sitting in their car. He was scaring the daylights out of them.”
Her voice had grown weak, the memories draining her. I didn’t want to make her suffering any worse, but I had to get to the truth.
“What was the drug?” I asked.
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you contact Abb’s doctor to find out?”
“The clinic went out of business. I tried to track the doctor down, but never found him. It was another dead end.”
“Did you tell Abb’s defense attorney this?”
“His attorney knew everything. He was appointed by the court because we didn’t have any money to hire a lawyer. He seemed resigned to my husband losing in court.”
I thought back to the evidence log from the trial. It had contained everything that the police had taken from the Grimes’s house.
“Did the police take the drug as evidence?” I asked.
“Yes. It disappeared with the slippers.”
“Do you think Detective Cheeks destroyed it?”
LeAnn laughed under her breath, giving me my answer.
“Did Jed know about the drug?” I asked.
“Oh, Jed knew. It was so painful for him. He used to walk up to police officers when he was a little boy and say, ‘My daddy isn’t a bad man! He isn’t bad!’ When he grew older, the reality of what Detective Cheeks had done hit him, and Jed tried to confront Detective Cheeks. That’s when Detective Cheeks started to haul him in, and accuse him of crimes he hadn’t committed.”
I leaned back in my chair. Everything Father Kelly had told me was true. Jed had been painted as a monster by Cheeks, and all because he knew the truth about his father.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go,” LeAnn said.
She went into the hallway to retrieve her suitcase. I tried to carry it outside for her, and she wrestled it from my grasp.
“No, thank you,” she said.
I watched her throw the suitcase into an old Chevy parked in the driveway beside the house. It was an eight-hour drive to the prison, and I found myself wishing she didn’t have to go it alone.
LeAnn backed down the driveway. The tailpipe was making horrible sounds that disrupted the quiet morning. She braked before reaching the street, and motioned to me. I hustled over to her open window.
“Would you like to know what I think?” she asked.
I said that I did.
“Detective Cheeks railroaded my husband, and now he’s railroading my son,” she said. “If you don’t believe me, ask the manager of the Smart Buy.”
“You mean Mr. Vorbe,” I said.
“Yes. He told me so this morning while delivering my groceries. Detective Cheeks came to his store, and tried to coerce him into saying untrue things about Jed. Ask him if you don’t believe me.”
Her car rattled and clanked as she drove away. The noise it was making was loud, but not nearly as loud as the alarm going off inside my head. Cheeks had destroyed evidence in one murder investigation, and now he was coercing witnesses in another.
I ran to my car.
The Smart Buy was open for business, and I went inside to the help desk. The young lady manning the desk was the same one who’d assisted me the other day. I asked for Jean-Baptiste Vorbe, and she made a call to his office.
“I think Mr. Vorbe is outside with the police,” she said.
I thanked her, and went outside the store. There weren’t any cops in the front of the building, and I walked around to the back. A police cruiser was parked by the Dumpsters, and I saw two cops standing on ladders, poking through the garbage with long sticks. Several torn bags lay on the ground. I looked for Vorbe, but didn’t see him.
“She isn’t here, and neither’s her kid,” one of the uniforms said.
“Keep looking,” the other said.
“We should have brought some fly spray.”
“Tell me about it.”
I climbed the stairs to the loading dock, and found Vorbe standing next to the building. He wore a white shirt and black tie, and was leaning on his cane. His brow