“Was Kevin close to his mother?”
“Yes, very close. And she had terrific parenting skills. Once she was gone, Kevin had no one who could help him channel his anger and frustration.”
“My father was killed when I was six, my mother when I was fourteen. I know something about anger and frustration.”
“I didn’t know. It must have been horrible for you.”
“Did Eli try to help?” Dantzler said.
“Eli and my mother both tried. They even asked Kevin to move in with us full-time, said it would be the best thing for him. Vince agreed. But Kevin didn’t want to, and I suppose none of the adults felt like pushing the issue. In retrospect, it was a mistake letting him have his way. Left alone, Kevin became a street kid, hanging out with and influenced by the wrong people. He also became mean, bitter, and exceptionally hot-headed. It didn’t take much for him to explode.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Are you the one who shot Kevin?”
“No. But only because someone else shot him first.”
“Rachel said a detective was wounded. How is he doing?”
“Barring complications he should be okay. He was very lucky.”
“I’ll say a prayer for him.”
Dantzler said, “Back in ’eighty-two, did Kevin spend much time at your house?”
“By then, he had become a professional boxer and was doing quite a bit of traveling. He was hardly ever in our house. Why do you ask?”
“I’m looking at him as the possible shooter of those two kids in Eli’s barn.”
“You’re putting me on, right?”
“It’s not possible?”
“Kevin may have killed them with his fists, but not with a gun. And certainly not with Eli’s twenty-two. That simply could not have happened.”
“Why not?”
“Kevin didn’t have access to Eli’s safe. He didn’t have a clue where the safe was located. Only a handful of people did.” Isaac let out a deep sigh. “Are you convinced Eli is innocent?”
“Yes.”
“Eli is fortunate to have you in his corner. You and Rachel.”
“What about you? Aren’t you in his corner?”
“I’ve seen the evidence against Eli, Detective Dantzler, and it is overwhelming. I can only believe what I see.”
“You believe in God, but you can’t see him.” Dantzler stood. “We believe what we want to believe, Brother Isaac. For whatever reason, you don’t want to believe Eli is innocent.”
Isaac remained silent as Dantzler left the church.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Working a closed case was like performing open-heart surgery on a corpse: no matter how many faulty arteries you replaced, the patient didn’t get any better.
Right now, Dantzler’s patient, the Eli Whitehouse case, was barely on life support.
In a career that spanned more than twenty years, he had never worked a case this frustrating or this perplexing. Most cases had doors he could open, paths he could follow, evidence he could pursue. Not this one. This case offered nothing. There was nowhere to go, no new direction to turn, no fresh ideas. Dantzler felt like a painter who was staring at a blank canvas without a single brush to work with.
“That’s some look you have on your face, Jack,” Laurie said, stepping into the War Room. “You look like a man pondering the mystery of the universe.”
“That might be an easier mystery to solve than this one,” Dantzler said. He was sitting at the table drinking a Diet Pepsi. “Remind me again why I was dumb enough to take on a closed case.”
“Because you are convinced an innocent man is behind bars for a crime he didn’t commit, and that’s a situation you cannot tolerate. A very noble undertaking on your part, regardless of how this case turns out.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, let me clue you in on something. For all my efforts, all of our efforts, we haven’t changed a damn thing. The evidence as it now stands points directly at Eli Whitehouse as the shooter of those two kids in ’eighty-two. And we aren’t even close to catching the person who killed Rogers and Fraley. All this work and we’ve accomplished nothing. We’re still standing on square one, stuck in neutral.”
“I know.”
“And what makes it especially frustrating is Eli could end it all by simply giving us a name. Two words from him and we have the shooter of four people. Three cases solved. And Eli could walk out of prison a free man. But he won’t. The one person we’re all trying to help refuses to help himself. Thinking about it makes me want to walk away.”
“It’ll never happen.”
Dantzler shook his head. “No, I can’t walk away, not as long as I remain convinced Eli’s case is connected to the Rogers and Fraley murders. Four people are dead-their families deserve answers.”
“Tell me, Jack. Have you seriously considered the possibility Eli did kill those two boys in ’eighty-two? That he is guilty? You’ve even admitted that nothing about the evidence has changed or been disproved. Maybe there is no new evidence. Maybe the verdict was the correct one.” Laurie sat across from Dantzler. “That would, of course, mean there are two shooters. It would also mean that by focusing all our attention on Eli’s case, we’ve placed too much emphasis and aimed too many resources in the wrong direction. By doing so, we’ve given the Rogers/Fraley killer a big advantage.”
“There is only one shooter.”
“Okay, so who are the suspects?” Laurie asked. “If you’ve ruled out Kevin Stone, who’s next on your list?”
“I have no answer,” Dantzler admitted. “And at this point, I have nowhere to turn.”
“Eli is your salvation.”
“I thought I was supposed to be his.”
“Why not approach him one more time? See what he’ll do?”
“Won’t work.”
“Can’t hurt to give it one more shot. Who knows? He might have a change of heart.”
“Waste of time. Eli is not giving us the name.”
“So… what will you do?”
“What I’ve always done.” Dantzler stood and picked up the stack of files from the table. “Go back over the case-all three cases-and study them again from top to bottom. Keep my fingers crossed that something new or enlightening jumps out. At this stage of the game, it’s the only thing I can do. The only thing I know how to do.”
Dantzler went home, arriving seconds ahead of a soft, gentle spring shower as pleasant as it was unexpected. An hour later, the rain had passed, the night air was warm and sticky, and he was standing on his deck, drink in hand, looking out at the lake, feeling one of those funky moods beginning to sneak up on him like an invisible assassin closing in from behind.
He sipped his Pernod and thought about the case. More specifically, he thought about Isaac Whitehouse, the one name that kept popping up on his detective’s radar. Of all the players in this drama, Eli’s eldest child was the most mysterious and the most bewildering. His actions, his beliefs, seemed so unnatural, so unlike those of a normal child. So unlike those of his siblings.
Rachel was convinced of Eli’s innocence, and Tommy, despite his personal problems, indicated he also felt Eli had been wrongly convicted. Not so with Isaac, who, during his two meetings with Dantzler, showed not an inkling of love or affection for Eli, only a grudging respect for the old man’s preaching ability. He refused to believe Eli might be innocent, and even more troubling, he displayed an almost total indifference to the possibility his father could leave the prison and die a free man.
It was almost as if Isaac wanted his father to remain locked behind those steel prison bars until his last dying breath.