Hand of Justice (Mara Brent Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Read online

  “They were neighbors,” I said. “You’re saying Kevin didn’t spend much time at Skylar’s house? I was under the impression he was close in age with Chris and Jenny Sutter’s son Luke. He’d be another cousin?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know about that,” she said. “It just seemed like there was always drama and in-fighting. They’re a big family. And the money made everyone crazy. Including Kevin.”

  “I see,” I said. “But Mickey, though. Why would he want to kill Kevin?”

  She paused. I could see her need to unburden her mind with something. Yet, something was holding her back.

  “I don’t want to be involved in this. I don’t want Ava around any of it. We’re leaving. Moving down to Tennessee to be near my mom’s family. My dad’s been looking to sell his store and retire for years. Kevin was trying to block that. Now, there’s no reason to stay.”

  “Of course,” I said. “You need a fresh start.”

  “They questioned us,” she said. “My dad. My mom. Me. We had to give them alibis. Did you know that? They thought we had something to do with what happened out there.”

  “The police needed to fully investigate all leads,” I said. “You’re not under any suspicion, Lea. You know that. You can tell me what you know.”

  “I know drugs got Kevin killed,” she said. “I know Mickey Harvey hung around the same people Kevin did as far as that goes.”

  “You think they were using together?” I asked. “Or that Mickey sold to Kevin?”

  “Not for a fact,” she said. “I just know that Kevin …” Her voice broke.

  “Lea?”

  “I feel like it was my fault, okay? If I hadn’t pushed him to help my dad out at the auto parts store. Then he wouldn’t have …”

  “Wouldn’t have what?”

  Her fingers trembled. She picked up a pen and wrote something on the paper I’d given her. She handed it to me. I read it. A single name. Scotty Jarvis.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Scotty worked for my dad for a while. A couple of weeks ago, my dad caught him dealing out of the back of his truck. In our parking lot at the store. He fired Scotty on the spot. He and Kevin ... I think Scotty might have hooked Kevin up with something. Drugs. I think Scotty’s behind Kevin falling off the wagon again. And ... and I’ve seen Scotty hanging around Mickey Harvey. You might want to talk to him. But that’s it. I don’t want to be involved in this anymore. I don’t have anything else to say. I just want to live my life and keep this crap away from Ava. This town is crazy. I don’t want to be here.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “This could help. Really.”

  From the other room, I could hear Ava crying again. I put the piece of paper she gave me in my briefcase and said my goodbyes.

  I called Sam as soon as I got to my car and filled him in on my conversation with Lea Shane.

  “Scotty Jarvis?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Christ,” he said. “I know him. He’s in custody.”

  “You’re kidding. On what charge?”

  “Possession with intent to sell,” he said. “He’s looking at ten years if the case is strong.”

  “Sit on him,” I said. “We need to know what he knows about Mickey Harvey and Kevin Sutter. If he can connect the two …”

  “Then we’ve got a real ballgame,” he said.

  “Indeed,” I said. “I’ll have Kenya get over there. I’m a good hour away. If you can flip him, get him to testify, I can pretty much promise she’ll write him a deal.”

  “Outstanding,” he said. “I’ll keep in touch.”

  I hung up the phone. I sat for a moment, staring at Lea Shane’s parents’ house. I hoped she truly could put all of this behind her. I hoped the specter of the Sutter farm had claimed the last of its victims.

  12

  The next day, we set up the office war room. I usually had more help for this, but in mid-June, all our law school interns had gone home for the summer. We’d get a new crop at the end of August. I’d need them. For now, it was just Kenya, Hojo, Caro, and me.

  I wheeled in three white boards, one for each house at the crime scene. I put 5X7 pictures of each of the victims as we found them.

  “Our challenge,” I said, “and there will be many, is coming up with a plausible theory as to who Mickey killed first.”

  “Does it matter all that much?” Hojo asked.

  “I think it does,” I said. “I think a jury might get easily confused sorting out the charges, not to mention the victims.”

  “Are we going to go with the theory he went there with the intention of killing Skylar Sutter?” Kenya asked. She leaned against the wall near the doorway. I stood near the center white board. We’d marked it as House #1, Chris and Jenny’s place. There, we had four victims. Chris, Jenny, Skylar, and her friend, Ben Watson.

  “Let’s say he didn’t,” I said. “Let’s give him the benefit of that doubt. Say he went there to talk to her. Or spy on her. Whatever. But maybe he sees Ben Watson and gets jealous. We still don’t know exactly why Ben was staying with Skylar, but by all accounts, and their cell phone records, they were close. She’s texting with him almost as much as Mickey.”

  “But it’s platonic,” Caro said. “Right?”

  “They appear to be just close friends,” I said. “But maybe Mickey doesn’t know that, or he doesn’t believe it.”

  “He shoots Ben,” Hojo picked up my line of reasoning. I’d glued an overlay on the board with the house’s floor plan. Then, I drew crude figures roughly where each body was found.

  “He’s in the kitchen,” Hojo said. “We know that from the angle of the shots. He’s arguing with Jenny?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Then Ben walks in and he shoots him. Or things escalate with Jenny and he shoots her, then Ben.”

  “Either way,” Kenya said. “If I’m the defense attorney, at a minimum I’m arguing there’s no premeditation. He’s caught off guard. Heat of the moment. We’re at second degree.”

  “Two counts of second degree,” I said.

  “I just don’t see how he goes there with the intent to kill Skylar,” Hojo said. “Her positioning doesn’t make sense for that. She’s coming in through the mudroom behind Chris, her dad. He’s got to get through him to get to her.”

  “And there’s my argument for premeditation,” I said. “It only had to be a split second.”

  “So then what?” Kenya said. “What’s the motive for the killings at the other two houses?”

  “Get rid of potential witnesses,” Hojo offered. “Kevin Sutter in House #2 is found in his kitchen as well. He was awake. Moving around. He’s got a clear view of what’s happening over at Uncle Chris’s house ... er ... cousin Chris ... hell, I can’t keep the relationships straight.”

  “Cousins,” I said. “Though don’t make me sort through how many removals or levels. Anyway, yes. I think Kevin’s definitely close enough to be a problem. Lea Shane, Kevin’s ex, provided us with gold. We’ve got an informant by the name of Scotty Jarvis. He’s going to testify that Mickey was dealing and that Kevin might have been one of his customers.”

  “Just inked his plea deal,” Kenya said.

  “Kevin Sutter died with drugs he shouldn’t have had in his system,” she said. “You think Mickey actually provided them?”

  “I think it’s a distinct possibility,” I said. “In any event, it gives Mickey another motive. Lea said Kevin had blown through most of the money he made in the Verde sale. He might have owed Mickey.”

  Kenya walked over to the third board. “So that just leaves Patty Sutter and Mark O’Brien in House #3. You think he figures he’s in for a penny, in for a pound at this point? He’s offed Skylar’s entire family. He’s offed Kevin Sutter. Why not a three-for-one?”

  “There was a light on in Patty’s bedroom. That room faces east, toward Chris and Jenny’s house. So yeah. If the theory is he killed Kevin Sutter to get rid of a witness, he’d have the same risk at Patty’s place. Plu
s, there’s one other thing.”

  I smiled. Caro had brought me a gift just this morning. I hadn’t had a chance to tell the others about it.

  I took a seat at the table and gestured to Kenya to take one too. She gave me a puzzled look but sat.

  I pulled out a Tyvek envelope I’d gotten from Caro. I opened it and pulled out a stapled stack of papers. Court filings.

  “Check this out,” I said. I turned the papers around so Kenya and Hojo could read the caption.

  “Maumee Bank and Trust versus ... oh crap. Edwin Harvey, Jr.”

  “A foreclosure?” Hojo asked. “I don’t get the connection.”

  “Is this for the property adjacent to the Sutters’?” Kenya asked.

  “It’s for the commercial land Ed Harvey owned in town,” I said.

  “His repair shop,” Hojo said. “Yeah, he shuttered that a couple of years ago, I thought. Sold the inventory to pay off his ex-wife in a divorce.”

  “Sounds about right,” I said. “But look at who represents the bank.”

  Both Kenya and Hojo leaned in to get a better look.

  “I’ll be damned,” Kenya said. “Mark O’Brien.”

  “Well, that’s some salt in the wounds then,” Hojo said. “O’Brien’s shacked up with a Sutter. Mickey’s dad’s neighbor. And he was part of sticking it to old Ed in court when he couldn’t pay the mortgage on his commercial property. I’d say that’s an extra motive to get rid of him if he’s doing some killing, anyway.”

  “Do you think there’s a theory we should run on Mark maybe being the primary target that day?” Kenya asked.

  “They were definitely caught off guard,” Hojo said. He pulled the file we had with the crime scene photos. Patty Sutter was in the back of the head while sleeping.

  “She was the only one shown any mercy,” I said. “M.E. doesn’t think she even knew what was going on.”

  “He hunted Mark O’Brien down,” I said. “Shot him while he was trying to run for it.”

  “So either he watched Patty die or woke up when he heard the shot. So she’s killed the first of those two,” Kenya said. “If he was there to kill O’Brien, why kill her first?”

  “This was deliberate,” Hojo said. “Of all the houses, this one seems the most like a calculated assassination.”

  “That’s where I’m at with it too,” I said. “He goes into that house with the intention to get rid of Patty and Mark. Even if we can’t get to premeditation on the other five, we have it here. Two counts of first-degree murder.”

  I trained my eyes on Kenya. This was my case. She’d run with it however I advised her. But this was Kenya’s office.

  “We go for it,” she said. “Of course we go for it. This is a death penalty case if ever there was one, Mara.”

  I sat back in my chair, feeling the weight of the decision.

  Death.

  One life for seven.

  I took no pleasure in the task. I don’t think anyone does. But it was my job, and I would do it to the best of my abilities.

  “Do you have everything you need for tomorrow?” Kenya asked. Mickey Harvey’s first court appearance was still scheduled for eleven o’clock.

  “I do,” I said.

  “Any appearance filed on Mickey’s behalf yet?” Hojo asked.

  “Nothing’s been served on me,” I said.

  “You don’t think he’s going with a public defender,” Hojo asked.

  “He hasn’t asked for one,” Kenya said. “And he’s not dumb enough to try to go this alone.”

  “I expect we’ll know more when he shows up for court tomorrow,” I said. “Do we have everything coordinated with the Sheriff’s? We’re going to draw a crowd.”

  “We’re set,” Kenya answered.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m going over to George and Lou Sutter’s house first thing in the morning. I promised I’d run them through what to expect.”

  “You want them in the courtroom?” Kenya asked.

  “No,” I said. “Not yet. It’s going to be a circus. Ed Harvey has already shown he can’t behave himself. There’s no need to upset those people anymore. We have plenty of trial ahead of us if it gets that far.”

  “You know it’s going to get that far,” Kenya said. “Ed Harvey probably has the means or connections to fund Mickey’s defense.”

  “So why did he let his commercial property fall into foreclosure?” Hojo asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said. “But trust me, I’m going to find out. I don’t want any surprises in this case. It’s complicated enough. Everyone in this town already has an opinion on what happened.”

  “I want it here,” Kenya said. “Expect a motion for change of venue. We’re not agreeing to that. This town needs to see justice served right here.”

  “We’re on the same page,” I said, closing the crime scene photo folder.

  “Good,” she said. “In the meantime, we need some help with the grunt work. I’ll work the budget to get you some summer interns.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said. “Make sure they’re good ones. Talk to Rhoda Cochran at U.T. She’ll give you a straight answer about who’s worth our time.”

  “Done,” Kenya said. “Now go home. Eat something. Talk to your kid.”

  I smiled. Kenya was both a good boss and a good friend. Since Will left with Jason, she’d made sure to get me out of here in time for our nightly phone calls.

  I thanked her, gathered the files I wanted to look over at home, then shut the lights behind us as we all filed out of the war room.

  Will called at 7:03 p.m. Same as every night.

  “Hey, buddy,” I said. I put my feet up and sipped a glass of white wine. “What did you do today?”

  “Air and Space Museum,” he said. “I looked at moon rocks.”

  “Sounds interesting,” I said. “What did you have for dinner?”

  “Aunt Kat made spaghetti,” he answered. His favorite. He had her make it at least once a week.

  “My blanket isn’t right,” he said, changing subjects without warning. He did that often. I’d learned to speak Will-ease over the years. It wasn’t always linear, but I could track his thoughts.

  “Your weighted blanket,” I said, kicking myself for forgetting about that one. “Honey, I can send one to you. As soon as we hang up.”

  “Ten pounds,” he said.

  “Right,” I said. “Not twelve. I’ll take care of it. The kind with the cover you can take off. Aunt Kat can wash it for you. You’ll have it on your bed tomorrow night or the night after at the latest. Will that work for you?”

  “I like the subway. We get off at Ballston if I ever get separated.”

  That had been my own superstition. The subways moved so fast in D.C. I worried if Will got jostled away from Kat or Jason ... if he got distracted ... I wanted him to know his stops.

  “Good,” I said. “You’re doing great. I miss you.”

  “They arrested Michael Edwin Harvey,” Will said. “Age twenty-five.”

  “Yes, honey,” I said. I sensed the relief in his voice. Will never expressed it, but I knew the beginnings of his obsession over the Sutter massacre stemmed from fear that the killer might come to our house. In that, my son wasn’t alone.

  “Good job, Mom,” he said.

  I smiled. “My job’s just starting, baby.”

  “Will they give him bail?” he asked. I knew it might mean a greater conversation with Jason about where Will should spend the rest of the summer. One crisis at a time, I told myself.

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I think Michael Edwin Harvey is going to stay in jail. It’s okay. I’m okay. And so are you.”

  Will got quiet. I could see him in my mind’s eye, counting silently to ten. I counted along with him, moving my lips.

  “I love you, Mom,” he said.

  Opening my eyes, I smiled. “I love you big, buddy. Good night.”

  “Good night,” he said, then hung up the phone.

  13

&nb
sp; Everyone called it the Sutter farm, but that wasn’t entirely accurate. I had Hojo blow up a satellite map and hang it on the wall in the war room.

  The Sutter family owned one hundred and eighty acres. The largest tract of land in Maumee County, most of it heavily wooded and split on the south-western border by the Maumee River. A local farmer rented just thirty acres of it for corn and soybeans.

  The three houses in the southeast became my crime scene. Lou and Georgette Sutter lived in the original house on the northernmost plot of land up on the hill.

  I drove up that hill, marveling at the beauty of it. You couldn’t see the house from the road or even their winding driveway. I knew from the satellite pictures they had a twenty-acre private lake in the back of the property.

  My dad would have loved it here, I thought. My mother would hate it.

  I saw a line of cars next to the house, two pick-ups, and an older model Town Car. I parked beside that and cut my engine. Nikki Sutter came out the front door just as I pulled up. I’d seen a trail camera on my way. She’d seen me coming. She waved.

  I left my briefcase behind in favor of a single legal pad just in case I needed to write anything down for the family. To my right, the whir of a chainsaw drew my attention. A young kind, maybe twenty, sliced through a pile of wood on the side of the house.

  “I’m so glad you came,” Nikki shouted above the noise. She wore jeans, no make-up, and a ponytail. It made her look only eighteen, though I knew she was at least thirty.

  “Grandma and Grandpa have been antsy,” she said. “Come on inside where it’s quieter. They have a lot of questions. I think I’ve got them convinced to stay away from court today.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” I said. “Today is just a formality. Just one step in what could be a very long road.” The kid with the chainsaw saw us and stopped long enough to wave.