Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“There it is.” Martinez points at Grace’s car as it drives by the gas station, but that’s not what catches my attention. Kelly’s truck following it does. It’s still not definitive proof that he murdered Anna and Grace, but it’s too much of a coincidence, given everything else, even without the DNA back yet. Those two girls would have had no reason to be driving by a gas station near his house at one in the morning the night before they were found in the trunk of Grace’s car. Especially with him seeming to follow them down a road that I know from being in that area is rarely traveled.
“Gather some men and bring him in,” Marshall, standing next to me, bites out, and I let my arms fall to my sides. “And bring in his wife.”
“Do we fill in the state police and let them know we’re going to get him?” Martinez asks, pushing back from the table he’s sitting at.
“I’ll make that phone call.” Marshall walks out of the room without another look at either of us.
Leaving the room, I send Tucker a message, seeing if he’s available to help us out while Martinez gets a hold of a couple of the other officers who were there the day we got Kelly’s DNA.
It takes us about an hour to get a team together, and two more hours to track him down. When we get him into the station, I watch him through the double-sided mirror as he sits alone, his wife Cristy sitting in the interrogation room on the other side of our viewing room. Neither knows the other is there since we picked up Kelly when he was at work.
Where he might look like he doesn’t have a care in the world, she’s scared.
With my eyes on his wife through the other mirrored wall, I see the door open next to her and Tucker step into her room with a folder in his hand.
“Mrs. Kelly, I’m Detective Beckett,” he introduces, taking a seat across from her.
“Ready?” Martinez asks, poking his head into the room I’m standing in with Marshall and two other detectives. I jerk up my chin and follow him. When we enter the interrogation room Kelly is in, he sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
Instantly on guard.
“Sorry for the wait,” I say, taking a seat across from him while Martinez stands.
“What’s this about?” he asks looking between us.
“We just have some questions for you, regarding the murder of Anna Cole and Grace Chambers.”
“Okay,” he says as Martinez places the folder he’s holding onto the table.
“The night the girls were murdered, they were in Nashville.” I tell him something he knows since he was helping to investigate the murder, or pretending to which is one of the reasons the case was stalled.
“Yeah, I know. I saw the video footage from the parking garage.”
“That night, you performed at Boot’s. Is that right?”
He swallows. “Yes.”
“Can you tell me what you did after that?” I ask, jotting down that he played at the bar next door to the one the girls were at that night, confirming the list of performers with dates sent to us was accurate.
“I went home.”
“Alone?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“What time was that?” I look up at him.
“I don’t know. I think I got home a little after one.”
“Had you ever met Anna Cole prior to her passing?” Martinez asks.
“What’s this about?” He glances between Martinez and me.
“What was your relationship with Anna?” Martinez continues not answering his question.
“I didn’t know her.”
“Your phone records say differently.” Martinez hands him the printout of texts between Anna’s cell phone and the number that connected to the prepay line that pinged off the tower near his house.
“That’s not my phone.”
“I have footage of you purchasing that cell phone from the Walmart near your house,” Martinez lies, unless he got that evidence today, which he might have. Knowing who Kelly is has opened the floodgates on information.
“Fuck.” He scrubs his hands down his face. “Look, I know this looks bad, but I didn’t hurt either of those women,” he says, looking between Martinez and me.
“Then maybe you can explain why the two of them would have been driving out toward your house just hours before they were murdered, and you were following right behind them.” Martinez pulls out the photos from the gas station camera, placing them on the table. “How long were you and Anna seeing each other?”
He scoots back from the table. “This is all a misunderstanding.”
“Did your wife find out you were having an affair?” he asks, and Kelly’s eyes come to me. Wide, panicked. “Did Anna tell you she thought she was pregnant?” Martinez continues.
I look at the door behind me when there is a knock and get up to answer it. When I see Tucker, I step out into the hall and shut the door. “His wife just asked for a lawyer.”