“That’s Jack Tobin over there. He says he was the shooter. I want you to read him his rights and then take a statement if he’ll give you one. Take a statement from Danni, too. Same procedure. I know she’s one of us but I want it done by the book.”
“Jack says Felton had a gun,” Danni said to Sam.
“I want someone to look for a gun,” Sam said to the people on the ground. “You don’t happen to know what kind of gun, do you?” he asked Jack.
“No,” Jack said. “I was about fifty feet away.”
“But you’re sure it was a gun?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?”
“Yeah, like I said.”
Sam turned to the two detectives. “No need for you to be here. Why don’t you take them down to the station and interview them there.”
“What’s going on, Sam?” Danni asked.
“Nothing, Danni. It’s standard procedure—you know that. I’ll have this team scour the area. We’ll find the gun if it’s here. Then you and Mr. Tobin will be able to go home.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
By the time they started for the police vehicles, Jack had made the decision to stop talking. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything to begin with, but even experienced trial lawyers made mistakes, especially when they were innocent and wanted to help the investigation. When he heard his own words that he was “pretty sure” Felton had a gun and then heard Sam Jeffries repeat those words as a question, he instinctively knew he had said too much. So he sat in a small room for two hours across from a homicide detective named Cal. Cal asked questions, and Jack smiled and refused to answer.
“Do you want a lawyer?” Cal asked. “Because we’ll get you one.”
I’ll bet you will, Jack thought to himself as he smiled at Cal and said, “No thanks.”
Jack knew a slew of criminal lawyers, but he was not sure who to call or even if he wanted somebody at this point. At least Cal knew enough not to give him the usual line that things would go easier with him if he started talking.
Sam Jeffries had not yet decided what he was going to do with the gun. He wanted to let things play out for a bit. He was disappointed that he hadn’t gotten the chance to shoot Felton, but that had been a long shot from the start. At least he had gotten in a few final blows. Now he had the opportunity to get Tobin, the prick who’d gotten Felton out of jail—for money—so he could kill Sam’s daughter. It was a dangerous game. He’d have to beat Tobin in his own bailiwick—the courtroom. But he had nothing left to lose. He’d lost too much already. And it would be such sweet revenge to outwit the now infamous Jack Tobin.
His crew at the scene had already called and informed him that they had found a pup tent and some clothes, food, and a credit card with Jack’s name on it.
So he was staying out there waiting for Felton. How do I spin this? Or can I? I’ll just wait and see what else they come up with. In the meantime I’ll work on Tobin.
He made his first move while Jack was sitting in the interrogation room.
He made sure nobody was in the observation room before walking in and tapping Cal on the shoulder.
“You can take a break, Cal.” Cal didn’t need any prompting. He left immediately.
“How are you doing, Jack?” Sam said when the two men were alone.
Jack didn’t know what to make of the situation—Sam Jeffries being nice to him. Something was wrong.
“Fine.”
“Listen, I’ll have you out of here in no time. We just need to finish up some paperwork. Cal didn’t bust your balls too badly, did he?”
“No. We had a nice conversation.”
“A little one-sided, I’m sure. I want you to know that I’ve got people scouring those woods for Felton’s gun. They’ll be out there until dark and if they don’t find it, they’ll be back again tomorrow morning. If we find the gun, I’ll call you right away.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that. I’m surprised that you’re even talking to me.”
“You did a job and you did it to the best of your ability. I’ve got an obligation to do the same thing. I don’t hold you personally responsible for my daughter’s death if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“It is. I don’t know that I wouldn’t hold you responsible if our roles were reversed.”