“If you had, you wouldn’t ask that question.”
“I don’t know about that, Abbott. You wear a watch, I see. A very nice one. You have a phone, I assume?” Abbott nodded and Rumsfeld continued. “And every patient room is equipped with a wall clock, for exactly that reason.”
Abbott leveled him with an icy stare. “My wife had been in a coma for two and half days. I’d hardly slept or eaten and was out of my mind with worry. Quite frankly, I wasn’t watching the clock.”
“And yet, you left the hospital.”
“I felt like if I didn’t, I was going to explode.”
Yes, Billy Ray thought. Spoken like a true psychopath.
Rumsfeld jumped right on it. “Interesting choice of words. ‘Explode.’ Tension that was going to erupt.”
Billy Ray noted that Abbott dropped his hands to his lap.
“I was afraid. For my wife. I needed a moment to center myself.”
“A moment. Is that how long you were gone?”
“Of course not.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know. Again, I wasn’t watching the clock.”
“What were you doing, Mr. Abbott?”
He blinked, looked away. “Praying.”
Billy Ray wanted to shout, “Bullshit!” but contented himself with thinking it.
Rumsfeld pretended to skim the notes again. When he looked back up at Abbott, his gaze was steely. “You weren’t worried she would come to while you were gone?”
Abbott flinched slightly, expression stricken. “I did worry about that, yes.”
“But you went anyway?”
“I told you, I felt like I had to. Like I was going to go crazy if I didn’t.”
“Explode, you said.”
“You know what I meant. We’ve all been there at one point or another.”
Rumsfeld cocked an eyebrow. “Have we?”
Deliberately aggravating him. Working his way toward that last nerve. Billy Ray smiled grimly. And they’d only just begun.
King stepped in. “Let’s get on with it, Detective.”
He nodded, then re-pinned Abbott with his gaze. “Would you be surprised to learn you were gone two hours?”
“That’s not possible.”
“We have time-stamped video of you leaving and reentering the hospital.”
“Not possible,” Abbott said again.
The attorney leaned over and whispered something in his ear, Abbott nodded. “But as I said twice now, I wasn’t watching the clock.”
“Two hours is a long time to pray.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.”
Billy Ray snorted. He’d just bet he didn’t. Because the truth would get his ass fried.
“Where did you go during that time?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropped his hand and looked up. “I don’t know. I just drove. I was in a fog.”
Rumsfeld’s eyebrows shot up. “Let’s see, you were about to explode, afraid you’d go crazy and in a fog. A man of many emotions.”
Color flooded Abbott’s face and Billy Ray silently congratulated the sheriff’s detective. The man knew his stuff.
“My wife was in a coma. You try it and see how you feel.”
“How is your wife, Mr. Abbott? She recover her memory yet?”
“No.”
“It’s ironic, it’s seems you’re both suffering with amnesia.”
“If you’re so concerned about my whereabouts, check my cell phone records. Can’t you all follow the pings, or something like that?”
“We have, Mr. Abbott. Your cell phone never left the hospital.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your cell phone never left the hospital.”
Abbott looked at his attorney. Rumsfeld went on. “I find it strange, that a man who professes to be out of his mind with worry over his wife, who hasn’t left her bedside in days and wanted to be at her side when she awakened from her coma, would not only leave the hospital for two hours, but would also leave his cell phone behind. If you wife had awakened, how would the hospital have reached you?”
Abbott blanched. “I didn’t realize I’d … I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
“Actually, I think you were thinking quite clearly.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You tried to cover your tracks by leaving your cell phone behind.”
“That’s crazy.”
“You knew about our ability to trace your whereabouts tracking your cell pings, so you deliberately left it at the hospital.”
Abbott shifted in his seat. He had begun to sweat. Billy Ray smiled. They had him. And he knew it.
King stepped in. “You’re making an assumption you’ll never prove in court. In fact, assumptions are all I’ve heard so far. If you plan to make this stick, I hope you have more than a concerned husband forgetting his cell phone or being confused about time and place.”
“Oh, we do, Mr. King. And we will. I promise you that.” He turned back to Abbott with a thin smile. “You own several vehicles, is that correct, Mr. Abbott?”
“It is.”
“And which of your vehicles were you driving that night?”
“My pickup truck.”
Rumsfeld flipped through his notes. “A black Ford F-150?”
“That’s right.”
Rumsfeld leaned forward, looking as delighted as Billy Ray felt. His gaze bored into Abbott’s. “What would you say if we told you we have a witness who saw Dixie Jenkins getting into your truck that night?”
A desperation Billy Ray had waited all these years to see came into Abbott’s eyes. He looked stricken and Billy Ray wanted to stand up and shout it from the rooftops.
It was Abbott’s fault True was dead.
And finally, he would pay.
“I’d say that was impossible.”
“You have my client’s answer. He and I need some time alone.”
“I’m sure you do, Mr. King. But don’t plan on going anywhere. We have lots more to talk about.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Wednesday, April 23
5:25 P.M.
In Billy Ray’s opinion, attorney-client privilege was total bullshit. Just one of the many ways offenders like Abbott went free, time after time. Guilty was guilty. If someone knew that for certain, he should be forced to say so.
Of course, Billy Ray didn’t make the laws, but he was forced to abide by them, so he’d played nice with the other detectives, reviewing the video and eating sandwiches all the while knowing Abbott was in the next room plotting with the lawyer on how he was going to wriggle free.