“The prosecutor will spin it that she was merely avoiding questions and took that time to come up with a story.”
“Or that I suggested it when I met with her on Monday morning.” Morgan sighed. “That’s exactly how I would have spun it when I was an ADA.” She leaned forward and wrote on her legal pad. “I’ll prepare a motion to get her initial statements to the sheriff’s department disqualified due to her confused mental state brought about by her untreated Addison’s disease. I’ll need to get Haley’s doctor to testify that her medical condition made her disoriented and confused.”
The doorbell chimed.
“That’ll be the pizza.” Lance went to the front door, handed the delivery kid some cash, and brought the pizza back to Morgan’s office. He opened it on her desk. She ripped her attention from her notes long enough to inhale two slices. Lance ate four, then stowed the rest of the pizza in the refrigerator in the kitchen.
He returned to Morgan’s office. They watched the second video. Colgate read Haley’s Miranda rights a second time. Then he confronted her with the results of the DNA test and the fingerprint analysis.
Haley’s eyes were sunken, her posture exhausted, and her skin paler. She replied to every question with a small voice. “I want to call my mother.”
“I’ll arrange it.” Colgate gave up, and the video ended.
Morgan stood, crossed the room, and brewed a cup of coffee. When she turned around, a deep-in-thought line divided her eyebrows. “We need to start interviewing people.”
“It’s three o’clock.” Lance returned to his place in front of the whiteboard. He studied the list of names.
Morgan went back to her desk, sipped her coffee, and tapped on her keyboard. “Let’s start with Haley’s girlfriend Piper. She’ll be the least hostile. We can go to Beats tonight and interview employees, but the club doesn’t open until later. We also have to talk to Noah’s three friends: Isaac McGee, Chase Baker, and Justin O’Brien.”
The police reports included driver’s license photos of all the witnesses. Morgan printed them out, including pictures of Noah and Haley. She made multiple copies of each, one for the whiteboard and another for her own file. She also liked to have pictures on hand when doing interviews. A photo could jog the memory of a waitress or bartender.
“We’ll walk the crime scene tomorrow,” Lance added.
“I’ll email the prosecutor’s office now and request entry to Noah’s house. Then I’ll call Piper and see when she’ll be available.” Morgan typed a quick email. She pressed the “Enter” key and froze.
“What is it?” Lance asked.
“An email.” She turned the computer, so he could read the screen.
Counselor Dane,
Haley Powell brutally murdered Noah Carter. If you continue to represent her, you will be complicit in her crime, and you will be punished for your wickedness. Consider this your only warning.
“You’ve been carrying your handgun, right?” Lance asked.
Both sides of a criminal case often received nasty emails. Most of the time nothing came of them, but the tone of this one set off his creep meter. Morgan could handle herself, but Lance still wanted to play bodyguard.
“Yes,” Morgan said. “Except at court appearances, like today.”
“Until this is over, don’t leave home without it.”
Chapter Thirteen
Morgan reached for the doorbell of Piper Allen’s second-floor apartment door. Gray siding and neat white trim gave the newer complex a crisp, clean appearance.
The young woman who opened the door wore slim jeans and a body-hugging top with the shoulders cut out. Thick gray socks covered her feet. Royal-blue highlights in her jet-black hair made her pale skin and blue eyes pop. Whether she intended it or not, the effect was elfin.
“Piper Allen?” When the young woman nodded, Morgan handed over a business card and introduced herself. “This is my investigator, Lance Kruger. \Thank you for seeing us.”
“Come in.” Piper stepped back and opened the door wider. “I’ll do whatever I can to help Haley.”
They went into a tiny tiled foyer. Piper closed the door and led them back to a living room, which was open to a bright kitchen and eating area. Her modern furnishings looked like the type that came in a flat box to be assembled with a hex key.
“How is Haley?” Piper walked into the kitchen.
Morgan followed her. “She should be home soon.”
Lance crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
“I can’t believe that she killed Noah, no matter what the police say.” Piper stopped in front of a cutting board loaded with onions, carrots, and celery. The rest of the apartment might have been furnished on a budget, but the kitchen appliances were all high-end. “You don’t mind if I continue chopping? I need to keep busy.”
“Chop away.” Morgan waved toward the cutting board. “You and Haley went out together Friday night? Whose idea was it to go to the club?”
Regret troubled Piper’s face, and her fingers trembled. She squeezed them into tight fists and then opened her hands. A little steadier, she picked up a large, fat-bladed knife and began to chop carrots. “It was mine. Haley doesn’t really like clubs. She’d rather stay home and game.”
“She plays video games?” Morgan asked.
“Online games. Haley’s a geek. She likes League of Legends, Call of Duty, and World of Warcraft.” Piper lifted the cutting board and used the back of the knife to scrape the chopped carrots into a large bowl. “She didn’t want to go out Friday night, but it was my birthday. She did it to make me happy.”
“Have you and Haley been friends long?” Lance’s gaze was fixed on Piper’s knife.
With practiced hands, she worked the blade through a row of celery stalks. “Since I took the job with the bank three years ago.”
“Would you say Haley is your best friend?” Lance asked.
“Yes.” Piper pushed the celery into the bowl and moved an onion to the center of the board.
“How closely do you work together?” Lance frowned as Piper sliced the onion in half in one deft motion.
“We don’t work in the same department.” She turned the cut sides down and chopped the onion into even pieces. “She’s in marketing, and I’m in tech support. But the bank isn’t that big. We see each other during the day.”
“What time did you get to the club Friday night?” Morgan eyed the wooden knife block on the counter. Piper had clearly not purchased her knives at Target.
“Around nine, I think.” Piper transferred the onion to the bowl, turned to the refrigerator, and took out a whole chicken. Despite her mad knife skills, her hands still shook as she removed the packaging and exchanged her fat knife for a skinny-bladed one.
“What are you making?” Morgan’s kitchen skills leaned more toward short-order than fancy fare.
“A chicken roll.” Piper set the knife down on the board. “My mom used to own a restaurant. I’ve been cooking since before I could reach the counter.” She paused for a deep breath. “I have problems with anxiety sometimes. Cooking helps me relax.”
Morgan watched, both impressed and slightly horrified as Piper snapped the chicken wing joints and slid the bones out whole. Piper picked up her knife, chopped off the tips of the wings, and added them to her bone pile. Then, in one stroke, she cut right through the center of the chicken breast.
“Does it work?” Morgan couldn’t take her eyes off the chicken. It was on its back, the breasts and wings splayed out in a position that reminded her of an autopsy.
Piper worked the knife through the shoulders and around the chest cavity, separating the carcass from the skin. She lifted one pale shoulder in a quick shrug. Her voice quivered. “Sometimes. At least I have a nice meal at the end.”
Had she been this nervous with the police?
“What time did you leave the club?” Morgan asked.
“Around eleven.” Piper shifted her attention to the chicken’s legs.
“You only stayed two hours?” Lance raised an eyebrow. “It was your birthday.”
Piper fumbled. “Damn.”