I’m still torn between the text-conversation with Anne, the odd interaction with Deputy Hudson, and the interrogation I witnessed between Sheriff Stevens and Jesse.
“No. We’ll still test him. We have cause, and he’s here and as long as he’s cooperative, we can. He seems to be, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
I nod, not completely satisfied with that answer but at this point, I’ll take what I can get.
“Well, what do you think?” I close my notebook and look at Sheriff Stevens giving him my full attention.
“I think that Jesse doesn’t really know anything. I think he just had a bit of an intense crush on Kelly and that’s it. Did he like her? Yes. Was he close with her? No. But did he think he was close to her? Yes.”
“He was obsessed?”
“Most likely,” he answers.
“Did he say anything of value?”
“It doesn’t sound like it,” he says. “But we’re also testing his DNA, and if there’s a match between him and that third set of DNA, that’ll give us more insight and cause to hold him for more questioning.”
That answer makes me feel like I understand things again even if I don’t feel like I do. Something still doesn’t feel right.
“Do you need a ride home?”
“No,” I say. “How long until the DNA test comes back?”
“I’ll expedite it to the lab—twenty-four hours.”
“You’ll let me know right away?”
“Of course.” He nods.
I walk away trusting that he will. I’m not sure why he decided to help me suddenly when it seemed like he had given up on the case. What changed? Maybe he believes Jesse had something to do with Kelly’s death or maybe he thinks Jesse just might know something. It has to be Jesse. He has to be that third DNA set. No other man was mentioned by any witnesses Sheriff Stevens or I interviewed. Unless, of course, Kelly kept that third man a complete secret from everyone. Why though? Why him? She didn’t exactly hide Adam. Many in town knew about them. I hope the third set of DNA matches with Jesse. I’m tired of this wild goose chase, and I’m sick of not having all the answers. Now I have to put an end to whatever the fuck Adam is up to.
38
Adam Morgan
The scotch has stolen some of my memories. I hope I didn’t obtain some pertinent information from the phone calls I made because if I did, I’m not sure I’d remember it. I’ve decided to start on the last phone number I could recall making.
A sandwich and chips did me some good as well as a power nap. I’m starting to feel like myself again—and by that, I mean, hopeless and depressed—but definitely sobering up. I’m facing the death penalty. There isn’t much else I could feel. But I’m resisting the scotch for the time being.
I pick up the phone and begin dialing. The phone rings and rings and rings and just as the voicemail picks up, my front door swings open with a bang.
“Adam!” I don’t even need to see her to know it’s her. I could recognize that disappointed voice anywhere at any time.
I quickly hang the phone up and try to look nonchalant on the couch. Sarah enters the living room wide-eyed and angry.
Great. What did I do this time? It can’t have been any worse than having an affair and being on trial for the murder of my mistress. “Hey, honey,” I say with a bit of sarcasm.
I can tell by the look in her eyes, she sees me as no more than a problem, a client that has to be dealt with. What happened to the Sarah I encountered on Friday night? The love that was once there seems to have vanished, and I can’t blame her. Look at me, a scruffy, unkempt beard has taken residence on my face. I’m sure my bloodshot eyes have their bags packed. My hair is a mess, and I’m still in PJs and a robe. Plus, let’s not forget about the situation I’ve gotten us in.
“Don’t ‘hey, honey’ me,” she says pointing at me. “What’s with the redhead, the phone calls, and the ten thousand dollars you spent?” Her eyes narrow. Maybe she does care about me. She asked about the redhead first. Is she jealous? I haven’t seen her jealous in quite some time. She just might love me after all.
“I can explain all of those things,” I say putting my hands up.
“Then explain.” She sits on the loveseat and crosses one leg over the other.
“Okay, the redhead: her name is Rebecca. She’s a reporter—”
“A reporter? You’re talking to a reporter? You do know you’re on trial for murder and the death penalty is on the table?”
“I understand that, Sarah—more than anyone.” I grit my teeth. This right here is my problem with Sarah, she treats me like I’m an idiot. What does she expect me to say to that? Oh, damn. Thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot that I’m on house arrest pending my trial.
“Do you actually understand that?” It’s clearly a rhetorical question.
“She’s helping me.”
“She’s a reporter. You’re just a story, and you don’t even know this woman. I have jury selection happening right now, and the last thing I need is anything in the media swaying them. You’re lucky the media dug up Kelly’s past because that’s been good for you in terms of public opinion. But one more story that paints you in an unflattering light will destroy that. Do you understand?”
“Rebecca and I have an agreement. She’s going to put my side of the story out, and I’m paying her to help me with my investigation.” I sit forward and place my elbows on my knees.
“My investigation? What the hell is that supposed to mean? There is one investigation happening, and that’s Jesse Hook. What is it that you think you’re doing, Adam?” She bounces her foot up and down and readjusts her skirt. Her face becomes flushed, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. I know my meddling is bothering her because she thinks she knows best, and I used to believe that, but now I’m not sure.
“Who’s Jesse Hook?”
“Exactly. You have no idea what’s happening with your own case. That’s the problem,” she says with a bit of bite in her voice.
“I’m cooped up in this house. I can’t leave. Therefore, if you don’t tell me anything, I don’t know anything, and when I don’t know anything, I look for everything,” I narrow my eyes at her.
“Is that a threat?”
“Why would you take that as a threat?” I’m bewildered by her question and her change of tone. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat and then straightens out her pristine outfit.
“No. Never mind.” She gets up, picks up the box she brought over the other night and tosses it on the coffee table. “This is what you should be focusing on. I brought you everything.”
“Who’s Jesse Hook?”
She lets out a huff. “Jesse Hook used to frequent Seth’s Coffee. A co-worker of Kelly’s said he was obsessed with her and made Kelly uncomfortable, so we’re looking into him.”
“And?”
“We’re testing his DNA. He just might be a match to that third set found in Kelly. Sheriff Stevens questioned him about an hour ago. I was there but got a little distracted. I’ll review the tape of the interview.”