Page 17 of I Do, or Dye Trying
“Now we’re talking,” I said as if we were discussing the outcome of a sporting event and not justice. To tell the truth, I was very competitive in all aspects of my life, and I liked her attitude.
“We’re going to try him for Turner and Robertson since those crimes were committed here. We have the how and when figured out, but we don’t know why. Juries have a hard time convicting a person if they can’t figure out what motivated them to commit the crime. I need you guys to make finding a motive your top priority. I’ll even be nice and share the information with Willison when the time is right so he can prosecute the man for crimes committed in his county. I’ll never impede justice, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want it for us first.”
“We’ll get right on that, Prosecutor Buxton,” I assured her.
“That’s not all,” she said when Dorchester and I started to rise out of our seats. “Depending on the outcome of your investigation, we could be looking at first-degree murder with capital punishment as a possible sentencing outcome. We’ve never had a capital punishment case in Carter County, so the state Attorney General’s focus will be on us. We cannot afford any screw-ups, Detectives.”
“There won’t be, ma’am,” I promised her.
“We won’t let you down, Pam,” John assured her.
There was so much more at stake here for her than for us. The first female prosecutor and the first capital punishment trial in the county amounted to a lot of pressure on her shoulders, but I was confident in her skills to get the job done.
“My ultimate goal is to use the possibility of the death penalty to get a confession out of Broadman for two life sentences to save the taxpayers a lot of money,” she told us. “It’s a long shot, but I’m going to give it a try. I need your help to make that happen.”
“We’ll see what we can dig up for you,” I told her, but I wasn’t confident that we’d find the concrete evidence she’d need to get a confession out of Broadman unless we found a witness or co-conspirator.
Buxton’s assistant came into the conference room to let her boss know the phone call she’d been waiting for had come through and the caller was on hold. That facilitated a brief goodbye and request for updates as we investigated before she left the room.
“How the hell are we going to make this happen?” Dorchester asked when we exited the courthouse.
“One step at a time like every other investigation. Let’s head back to my office and formulate a plan.” Once we were back in my car, I turned to look at him instead of starting the car. “So, John,” I said in a feminine, breathy voice to imitate the prosecutor’s use of his first name, “what’s the story here?”
“No story,” he said, but wouldn’t look at me.
“Oh, there’s always a story,” I said. “Obviously, you two used to date or something. Were you high school sweethearts?”
“You could say that,” he mumbled. “Pam was my first girlfriend. We dated all through high school and our first year of college even though we’d chosen different universities. We simply grew apart, and realized we wanted different things in life. She was right when she said things worked out how they were intended because I can’t imagine a life without Deanna and my kids.”
Man, I almost felt bad that Josh was going to put the pie smack-down on his wife.Then I recalled the hard times he gave me and got over it. “So, how’s the missus going to feel about you working with your first love?” I asked him.
John turned his face slowly to look at me, narrowed his eyes, and said, “Don’t you breathe a single word about this on Sunday.”
“I would never say a word,” I said, jerking in my seat like I was shocked by the thought. I rubbed my hand over my heart like Dorchester had just stabbed me there. “Ouch.”
“Okay, so maybe I had fun at your expense with Turner, Silver, and Paul but that’s different,” he said.
“How do you figure?” I asked him.
“Your interaction with them was limited where my wife had Pam thrown in her face during the entire campaign. She had to hear all about how smart Pam is, how beautiful and confident she is, and how close I was to marrying her, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Deanna doesn’t do makeup and glam; she hauls our kids all over God’s creation to get them to their activities. Hearing nonstop about Pam’s attributes is making her feel like she’s somehow less, that her role as a wife and mother is somehow not enough. I hate that for Deanna almost as much as hearing her ask me if I regretted the choices I made when I was younger. It’s a very sore subject.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling like shit. Sure, Josh had his moments of insecurity, but his unwavering knowledge that I was completely in love with him strengthened his confidence.
“I’m just kidding, man,” John said then burst into laughter. “Deanna could care less about everyone else’s opinion, and she’s very confident about her place in my life. She’s my queen and knows it.”
“Well played, Dorchester. Well played.”
“Come on, partner,” Adrian whined when we got back to the police station. “You have to talk to Captain about letting me help you. I mean, it sounds like Buxton needs answers quick and three people can cover more ground than two.”
“Four is even better,” Captain Reardon said walking up behind us. The man had serious ninja skills. “I just got off the phone with Prosecutor Buxton. The BPD and CCSD will be working together to get her the information she needs as quickly as we can. I’ve just placed a call to Sheriff Tucker; he’s sending Detective Whitworth over to work with you. You can set up in the conference room, and I’ll have lunch delivered for you guys.”
Adrian might’ve let out a tiny whimper at hearing he’d have to work with Whitworth again, but he swallowed down most of it when the captain narrowed his eyes at him. “We’ll make you proud, sir,” Adrian said.
“See that you do,” Captain Reardon said then returned to his office.
We got to work setting up the conference room while we waited for Whitworth to arrive. He showed up with a tense smile, looking uncertain about the kind of reception he was going to receive. The bag of pastries he dangled in his hands appeared to be a peace offering.
“As long as you left your stick outside we’ll be fine,” I told Whitworth.