“Yes. I remember she made the best apple pie I have ever tasted,” the nurse said with a smile. “She is sitting on the couch in the TV room over there, wearing the red sweat pants and the gray shirt.” Steve looked around the room, his eyes first went to Martin and then to the other patients sitting and staring at the television in silence. One was mistakenly looking at a wall, but he seemed to be enjoying his show just as much as the others enjoyed theirs.
Steve and Booger walked over to Martin. She was in her late eighties, with several strands of gray hair upon her balding head. Her face was thin and pale. She looked like she was wasting away one day at a time.
“Hello, Miss Flora. How are you today?” Steve asked.
She gave him a giant smile. “Hello, Peter. How are you? You sweet young thing.” She reached up and softly touched his cheeks as she said, “You are such a handsome young man.”
“Thank you. I’m good. I’ve just been thinking about all the bake sales you used to do for the church. Do you remember those days?”
“Oh, yes. I loved baking. I wish they would let me bake something in here every once in a while.”
“Me, too. Your apple pie is still the best I have ever eaten.” Steve played along, hoping this would help him get the information he needed. Besides, she seemed happy to have “Peter” visiting her; he saw no reason to take this little bit of joy away from such a kind, fragile woman.
“Do you remember that young woman who used to help with the bake sales? I can’t remember her name,” Steve gently prompted.
“Heather Walters. Never forgot that girl. She was such a treat to be around. Young, athletic, smart, and she had the most beautiful blonde hair.”
“Yeah. That’s her. Do you—”
Martin interrupted Steve as she stared blankly to her left. As if she were reading a teleprompter, she continued, “One thing about her I will never forget. She was the most organized person I ever met. Always had everything in its place. In all the years I worked with her, she was never once late to any sale, any meeting, or any service of any kind. I wish I was as organized as her.”
Steve glanced at Booger upon hearing this information. Booger nodded back.
Martin then seemed to gather her wits for a second. “I’m sorry. You were about to ask me something?”
“Never mind. It wasn’t important. We need to go now. It was good seeing you.”
“Good seeing you, too, Peter. Please tell your mother I said hello.”
As they got up from the couch, Booger whispered to Steve, “Ask her if she remembers the day Ashley was murdered.”
“Miss Flora, one last thing. Do you remember the day Heather’s friend Ashley Pinkerton was killed?”
“Of course, I do. What an awful, awful thing that was. That shook the nerve of everyone in town down to their core. To think, something like that could happen right here in Rogers County. I remember Heather was especially upset when she found out. As best I can recall, she had brought banana cream cupcakes to the bake sale that morning. I was eating one of the cupcakes when she got the phone call. She immediately broke down into tears. It was just plain horrible. Only word to describe it. Horrible.” She shook her head slowly as she spoke. It was the first time her spirits seemed low since they had arrived.
“Was Heather on time that day?” Booger asked.
“Yes, like I said. She was always on time, everywhere. She always arrived at 9:50 for the bake sales. Always ten minutes early to everything. I’m sure she was there at 9:50 that day as well.” Her mood improved as her mind shifted from Ashley’s murder back to the bake sale.
“It was good seeing you again, Miss Flora,” Steve said. “We have to go now. Have a good day.”
Martin put her arms out to hug him goodbye. Steve bent down and gave her a hug. She kissed him on the forehead and said, “Would you like to buy a cupcake, young man? We have banana
cream and red velvet this month.”
Steve smiled back at her. “No, thank you.”
After they walked out of the building, Steve said, “Well, she certainly didn’t seem to know who I was, but she seemed pretty clear about Walters and her timeliness.”
“Yeah,” Booger replied. “I have been around a few Alzheimer’s patients over the years; it runs in my family. They tend to have some lucid moments, at least in the middle stages. She is clearly still in the middle stages because toward the end they usually can’t even form a sentence. Don’t even use real words half the time they try to speak, just say a lot of gibberish. Some doctors call it ‘word soup.’”
“She was very clear in her speech and seemed certain of her memory,” Steve said.
Booger nodded. “Right. Now, let’s get to the sheriff’s office and look at that file.”
CHAPTER 33
When they arrived at the sheriff’s department, Steve and Booger checked in with the receptionist in the lobby. A few minutes later, Deputy Blackburn came out and directed them to a large conference room near the back of the building. There were several boxes on the table and a copy machine in the corner. A young deputy was sitting at the table, not actually paying attention to anything except his cell phone. When he noticed they had already walked in, he stood up quickly. In a rushed attempt to put his phone away, he dropped it onto the tile floor. His face reddened as the sound rattled through the room.
“We moved this machine in here this morning to make things easier on you,” Deputy Blackburn said, “and to make sure you aren’t leaving this room with anything except your copies. Like I said before, I don’t trust you damn defense attorneys, and I don’t want you taking anything with you or planting something in my files. This here is Deputy Parker. He drew the short straw this morning. So, he will be sitting outside the door watching every move you make until you are finished.”
The officers searched Steve and Booger. “Every time you come or go, Deputy Parker is going to search you,” Deputy Blackburn said. “Like I said, I don’t want you taking something and then claiming we lost it or hid it from you. Good day.” With that, Deputy Blackburn turned and walked out the door with Parker following just behind him. Parker sat in a chair in the hallway. He could see them through the plate glass door and windows, although he seemed more interested in his phone than watching them.
Steve and Booger stared at each other and then at all the boxes
stacked on the table.
“I’ll start at this end. You start down there,” Steve said.
“Okay. I think we should copy everything that looks remotely interesting. Never know what might matter once we dig into this stuff further,” Booger said.
Steve walked to the far end of the table and opened a box; at the same time, the door to the hallway opened again. Deputy Blackburn stuck his head in.
“One more thing,” Deputy Blackburn said. “I spoke to Whitmore about your threats. He confessed he was the one who sent them. He said to tell you he is very sorry and that you guys coming around just brought back tons of emotions he hadn’t felt in years about his sister’s death. He got freaked out and thought you might stop if he threatened you. He wants the whole thing to be over.” Deputy Blackburn continued after shooting a look at Steve, “He needs closure, and the final piece for him will be when your client is executed. I explained to him that his threatening you probably made you search more. He promised me he would stop. I honestly believe he will. I think he just still misses his sister.”
“Bullshit,” Steve replied. “The reason he threatened us is because he is the real killer. You need to go arrest him immediately.”
“He ain’t the killer. That scumbag you represent is. How many times do I have to tell you to get it through your thick skull?” Deputy Blackburn scowled. “Look in those files, and you will see there is no way he killed his sister. He was over at his parents’ house that morning. So, unless his parents are in on your grand conspiracy too, it wasn’t him.”
Steve and Booger looked at each other in astonishment. Neither had said it yet, but both had secretly determined Whitmore was their man. “Sorry to burst your bubble, gentlemen, but you represent the asshole who killed Ashley Pinkerton. No matter how hard you look for someone else, it is always going to keep coming back to him. Regarding Whitmore, it is my duty as an officer of the law to arrest him on those threats if you want me to do it. Say the word and I will go get him right now, but I would rather let him be. The man did lose his sister.”
“Don’t arrest him yet,” Steve said. “I want to see all of this evidence first.”
“Okay,” Deputy Blackburn said. He pulled his head back out of the door and left.
After about an hour, Steve found a file labeled “Eloise Blackburn.” Inside was one sheet of legal paper containing some handwritten notes. Based on all of the other documents he had looked at that day, Steve could tell the writing was Deputy Blackburn’s. The notes stated Blackburn’s grandmother had called him to let him know that he shouldn’t waste time looking into Heather Walters as a suspect. Heather was with her at the church bake sale when the murder occurred. On the top of the page, Deputy Blackburn had written: August 11, 2008, 8:17 a.m.
“Looks like both of Walters’ alibi witnesses have the same story,” Steve said, handing the file folder over to Booger so he could see the statement for himself.
“Yep. Cross her off the list.”
Steve made a copy of the file, and they both continued their search. A little while later, Steve received an email from the federal court clerk’s office. It stated that Emily was approved to assist as an additional investigator on the case. The court did not approve funding but did approve her helping in a pro bono capacity.
Steve called her to let her know the good news. “I just received an email from the federal court. You have been approved to work with us as long as you are willing to do it free of charge.”
“That’s great,” Emily said. “Of course, I will. I am hooked on this case and can’t wait to find out all the details.”
“When can you get started?”
