Kagan concluded by saying he hoped after hearing the explanation of why his client was at the victim’s apartment, Moran might permit bail while they checked out Reid’s story. Goddard quickly protested, but it was unnecessary. No way was Moran going to let this guy out of jail.
After returning the suspect to his cell, Goddard reported to the chief, who asked, “What’s he look like, Chip?”
“Ordinary, I guess kind of nerdy. He’s seems a little out of it. Made a strange statement, Moran is sending over a copy. Some townies were named.”
“For example?”
“He claims Loraine Dellin shot Sonny Barner who had raped Tammy Jerrold. Can you believe that?”
“Are we talking about this town? Say it again.”
“And Loraine was wearing a thong at a motel pool.”
“You just ruined my day, Chip. You should never mention senior citizens in thongs.”
“All pretty wild, isn’t it? He does admit to being in Towson’s apartment. You’ll see when you get the statement. He mentioned Norma Martin as well. Do we have anything on her?”
“Not that I remember,” the chief said. “Where are all these names coming from? Damn it, we have to keep a lid on this. If any of this gets out—the names, another shooting and a rape rumor—this town will go bonkers.
At two p.m., Goddard escorted Reid back to the courthouse for the First Appearance.
Ray Reid stood before the judge and entered a plea of Not Guilty. Kagan immediately requested Pretrial Release. State Attorney Moran objected stating that they have a witness who can place him at the apartment on the day of the murder, that the suspect’s prints were on cup shards found in the victim’s apartment, that they have evidence he had argued with the victim, and that he was the last person to see the victim alive.
Kagan retorted that in a statement just given to the prosecution, his client voluntarily admitted he was at the apartment on that day and had explained the broken cup. Furthermore, the police couldn’t possibly have determined with any certainty at that early stage who indeed was the last person to see the victim alive and, in summary, the state’s proof of guilt wasn’t sufficiently evident to deny bail.
Moran informed the court that the defendant was new in town and had insufficient ties to the community to assure future court appearances.
The judge remanded the accused to police custody.
As Goddard escorted Ray from the courtroom, Kagan asked him, “Did you have a chance to dump the calls on my client’s phone and get the source of that text? Someone directed him to Towson’s apartment mere hours before the killing.”
Goddard moved closer before answering, “Off-the-record, Jerry, that text originated from an Internet connection at the InnTowner Motel.”
Reid jumped in, “Yes! That’s where we were, the InnTowner! That proves what I told you. It was Loraine. She wouldn’t use her own phone it could be traced. She knew I was eager to get in touch with Tammy.”
The detective was willing to continue the subject since Kagan wasn’t objecting. “Or did you send yourself the text from the motel before you left?”
Ray had no immediate answer for that theory. Then he remembered. “What about this? Loraine gave me Tammy’s home phone number that is unlisted. I wrote it on a motel pad. The police took it from me when I was booked, so you have it. It proves Loraine gave me Tammy’s number.”
“Yes, we have the note, but it doesn’t prove where you got the number.”
“But I was in a motel room. How else could I obtain an unlisted number?”
“Realtors don’t have unlisted numbers. You guys are going to have to do better than that.” Goddard knew Kagan would attempt the standard maneuvers. But in the end, Reid would remain essentially helpless in jail while the State Attorney’s Office used their considerable resources to prepare a case against him.
Later that evening, Ray snapped out of his miserable mood when the jail officer brought his supper tray and told him some woman came in to see him that afternoon. Exciting news for a lonely guy facing his third night in the lockup.
“Too bad it was after visiting hours,” the officer said.
“Visitors, I can have visitors?”
“Yeah, you’ll be cuffed while you’re out of the cell, but sure, we take you up to the visiting room.”
A visitor would be comforting and he could use some of that. But, the visitor most likely would be some official with a form to fill out or the bearer of more bad news. “Well, who was it? What did she look like?”
“Don’t know, wasn’t there, but some guy upstairs said she was a looker.”
“A young looker or an old looker?”
“Didn’t say.”
His first visitor. Who would want to visit the town pariah? What he needed was a magical visitor, young or old, that could get him out of there. A young looker described Tammy who thought he was a nut, so it wouldn’t be her. An old looker would be Loraine. He’d love to confront her, but she wouldn’t dare show up.
Who else is there?
Chapter 10
It was Tuesday morning, three days after the murder, and Ray woke up wondering about the woman turned away after visiting hours yesterday. Would she come back? He skipped the breakfast tray except for the coffee and eagerly awaited the jailer. At last, visiting hours. The jailer secured the handcuffs, and escorted him to the visiting room.
She sat on one side of a long steel table in the sparsely furnished room. Against the wall, an officer sat on a high stool and a sergeant was at a small desk positioned at the main door. Of course, Ray recognized her: the friendly stockbroker from the office, the party hostess, the one with short blond hair, Meg—what was her last name?
“Great that you came to see me. So, you bring greetings from the office, I guess.” He was smiling for the first time since being jailed.
“Greetings from only me, I’m afraid. The company regrets ever hearing of you. I hate to tell you, but your boss has the word from upstairs, embarrassment to the corporation must end. You’ll be fired as soon as they can legally cover their butts.”
“They sent you here to tell me that?”
“God, no. I’m on my own. I thought someone should let you know what was happening. Too bad I accidentally got you involved with the murder victim’s ex-wife at my party. Did you notice I never introduced you to Loraine? I never dreamed she’d try to hook up with anyone, especially not you. I told her to bring a friend, but she showed up alone and jumped on you as if you were the last train out of town. She was on the hunt, so she brought out the big guns; tell me her short green dress with that neckline didn’t do a job on you.”
“You should have marked her with skull and crossbones. But none of it was your fault. You didn’t know Towson would be shot, and I didn’t know that I was walking out the door with his ex.”
“All the people at the party saw you two leave, and now they know Loraine slept with the guy who shot her ex. I’m assuming you slept with her—none of my business. When that juicy tidbit filters into the community at large it’s not going to help your case.”
“You’re quite the sales person, aren’t you? You just told me my job and my life are doomed, and I’m sitting here grinning, eager for any more bad news just to hear you talk.”
“I could sell water to a drowning man.”
“Good that you’re so successful at something you like to do. All your buy and sell tickets come across my desk, I know you’re good.”
“Not successful every time. I’ve been working on a personal scheme for about a month now, trying to get a particular idea into a certain guy’s head, but it’s not working. I can’t seem to get the pitch right. He’s ignoring me.”