here to talk to you about him. Then he disappeared. His name was in the paper today. He’s back in town, and he’s going to perform a show at the Imperial. That’s what you’re probably thinking about.”
“Robert Chesterfield,” Regina repeated. “What did he do?”
“They said that he murdered two people, but you were brilliant, and you forced the DA to dismiss the case.”
“Was he guilty?”
“You were evasive the only time we talked about the case. You said that you would have had a reasonable doubt if you served on his jury, but you never told me what you really thought about his culpability.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
When Robin entered the contact visiting room at the jail, she found James O’Leary sitting with his hands folded in front of him, smiling serenely like a Buddhist who has achieved Nirvana.
“Hi, Mr. O’Leary. My name is Robin Lockwood. I’m a lawyer, and Father Gregory asked me to help you with your case.”
“I don’t need a lawyer,” Jimmy said.
“You’re charged with attempted murder, so you probably do need a lawyer.”
“God is my attorney.”
“God won’t be able to represent you in an Oregon court unless he’s a member of the Oregon State Bar.”
The smile never left Jimmy’s face, but he did shake his head. “It ain’t nice to joke about the Lord, Miss Lockwood.”
“You’re right. I apologize. But Father Gregory is very worried about you, and he wants me to help out. Do you have any objection to my working with God to help him get a just result?”
Jimmy thought for a moment. “I guess that would be okay.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Jimmy told Robin about Peter Knox, Loretta, and Timothy Rankin. Then he told her about digging the gun and the bullets out from under the junk in the shed and what had happened at Rankin’s house. When Jimmy had finished, Robin had a few ideas about what had turned Timothy Rankin into a superhero.
* * *
Several days of rain had given way to a few dry days. A heavyset man with a beer belly and thick beard was sitting on his front porch, drinking a Widmer IPA and taking advantage of the weather.
“Timothy Rankin?” Robin asked when she and Jeff Hodges walked up.
“Who wants to know?”
Robin held out her business card. “I’m Jimmy O’Leary’s attorney, and this is Jeff Hodges. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”
“Is this about Jimmy saying he tried to shoot me?”
“Yes.”
Rankin broke out laughing. “Those cops said Jimmy told them he shot me in the chest and the bullets bounced off.” Rankin laughed again. “Does Jimmy think I’m Superman?”
“So, you’re saying that Jimmy didn’t shoot you.”
“Would I be talking to you if Jimmy shot me?” Rankin shook his head. “Did they test Jimmy for drugs, because it sounds to me like he was smoking something powerful.”
“If Jimmy didn’t shoot you, why did you call the police?”
“I didn’t.” Rankin cocked his head toward the house next door. “It was the neighbor. She’s always sticking her nose in where it don’t belong.”
“Jimmy said he threw the gun away. Did the police find the gun or the bullets?”
“I saw them looking around, but I don’t know how they’d find something that was never there.”
“Am I correct in concluding that you will not testify that Jimmy O’Leary tried to kill you?” Robin asked.
“Of course not. I like Jimmy. We were cellmates. I don’t know why he made up this crazy story, but it is crazy.” Rankin chuckled. “Jimmy is fucked up in the head, if you ask me. Bullets bouncing off me. Who ever heard of such a thing?”
Robin decided to go while the getting was good. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Rankin.”
“I ain’t got nothing but time. Say hi to Jimmy for me when you see him, will you?”
Jeff led Robin to their car.
“What do you think really happened?” Jeff asked when they drove away.
“I think Jimmy shot Mr. Rankin, but Rankin doesn’t want to press charges.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because he’s helping a friend who was lied to by Peter Knox, or maybe he’s afraid Jimmy’s friends will come after him if he testifies.” Robin shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter, if we can get the DA to dismiss.”
“And the gun and the bullets?”
“My guess is that Rankin got rid of them.”
“What about O’Leary’s crazy story about the bullets bouncing off Rankin?”
“It’s not so crazy. I talked to Paul Baylor at Oregon Forensics. Those bullets had been sitting around for a long time in an old shed. Jimmy told me that