as hell didn’t want your good-for-nothing, thieving dad on my property. But that was a long time ago. I’m asking about recent affairs.”
“I made it a point to stay out of his business.”
“So you didn’t get along?”
Yeah, Sullivan was definitely homing in on him. “We were what you’d call estranged. We had very little interaction. But if you’re asking if I’m angry at him, or had some beef with him, no.”
That was a lie, but Raleigh’s beef had faded into the past. “Rose didn’t either. He didn’t live up to his financial obligations as far as their son was concerned, but killing him wouldn’t help much in that regard.”
“Rose isn’t a suspect, so you can stop trying to cover for her. We’re merely looking for her to gather information.”
To gather something incriminating against Raleigh.
Sullivan opened a folder and pulled out several pictures, laying them out on the table. Pictures of the truck under the murky water as it had been found. A skeleton wearing the remnants of clothing, a small fish swimming inside the rib cage. Close-up shots showed gashes in the old bones.
Raleigh’s stomach churned. So that was how his dad’s life had ended.
Sullivan had been studying his reaction to the pictures, probably hoping to see guilt. Well, he didn’t get what he wanted.
“We’re dredging the lake for the weapon. If it’s out there, we’ll find it. Maybe with fingerprints. People tend to think water erases evidence.” He grinned, showing the gap between his front teeth. “They’re wrong.”
“I hope you find it, because my fingerprints aren’t on the handle.”
Sullivan pointed to the close-up pictures. “See all those kerf marks on the skeleton’s bones? His ribs, face, hands, which are indicative of defense wounds. Someone stabbed him over and over with a large knife. That’s a lot of rage. Rage equals personal.”
Grace pointed to the pictures. “You have nothing here to charge my client with. I want the charges dropped.”
“The truck was found within a quarter mile of your client’s abode. Your client had a hostile relationship with the deceased.”
“Estranged,” Raleigh clarified.
“We have a witness who claims he saw you arguing with your father in the month prior to his death.”
Raleigh searched his memory. When his dad had tried to hit him up for a “loan” at the diner. “He asked me for money, and I told him to bite me. I was done giving him so-called loans. He called me ungrateful and a lot of other nasty names and stomped out. No argument.”
Sullivan wrote that down. “Sounds like an argument to me.”
“You know that won’t fly in court,” Grace said, her eyes narrowed at the sheriff. “You’re trying to build a case based on your own personal bias of the suspect.”
“Hell, I don’t much like the victim, either, but I’m doing my job. Are you accusing me of prejudice?”
“Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I know you, Sheriff. I’ve seen you tie the most tenuous evidence together to run down someone.” She ticked several names off her fingers, some Raleigh had heard.
“And some of them were convicted by a jury of their peers,” Sullivan said, mirroring her earlier pose. “Based on the evidence, witness statements.”
“Statements I understand you coerced. Something you’re good at.” Anger burned in her brown eyes. “One day that’s going to catch up to you. And when it does, don’t come to me for representation.”
The sheriff leaned back in his chair, signifying that he wasn’t taking her threat seriously. “Doubtful, Ms. Parnell.”
Coerced witness statements? Raleigh’s stomach tightened into a stone. He’d heard about local trials where the defendant was convicted based solely on eyewitness statements, shaky ones at that. Sullivan had a relationship, proximity, and was trying to string together a motive.
“You abuse your power, Sheriff.” Hatred burned in Grace’s eyes, reminding Raleigh of the kind of rage that precipitated the attack on his father. Whoa!
Sullivan laughed, the sound harsh. “I’m still going for first-degree murder. Unless your client wants to enlighten me as to what really happened. Maybe it was second-degree murder or voluntary manslaughter. But until I have more facts I have to go on my gut.”
“The state attorney won’t go for first,” Grace told Raleigh. “Not without having a reason for malice aforethought.”
Second didn’t sound a whole lot better.
“We’ll just see about that, Ms. Parnell.” The sheriff left the room without a backward glance.
Grace mouthed what Raleigh imagined were some pretty colorful words at his back. Her anger disappeared when she turned to Raleigh. “We’ll fight this.”
The deputy led him out