Page 69 of Her Final Hours
“I can appreciate that,” McKenzie said. “However, there has been a development, and we just want to rule you out. If you were cleared of all wrongdoing back then, you have nothing to worry about now.”
“What part of go away do you not understand?”
McKenzie turned and cursed a few times as he passed her. “Come on. We’re wasting our time.”
Callie, who had been in the background throughout the fiasco, glanced at the door and pressed the doorbell, to McKenzie’s annoyance. “Mr. Mitchell. On behalf of the Adirondack Sheriff’s Office, I sincerely apologize for how you were treated in the past. We won’t bother you any further. Thank you for your time.”
She turned to leave.
As she did, the door automatically unlocked.
“Five minutes. That’s all you get,” he said.
McKenzie looked stunned. “Oh, I see how it is. Maybe if I put on a wig and pair of heels, I would get in the door.”
Callie smiled, saying the one thing that would wind him up. “It’s psychology.”
“Oh, it is? I think you’ve been staring far too long into those big thick books of your mother’s. It’s much simpler. It’s called being a lass and him being a dirty bastard.”
“Alleged.” She raised a finger. “Alleged, McKenzie,” she said in a hushed voice as they entered, brushing the snowflakes from their coats.
The warm air greeted them, and Callie was immediately struck by the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with a hint of cinnamon. The hallway extended into the main living area, where they found Caleb Mitchell, a man now in his mid-fifties, standing with an air of annoyance.
He was average height, with graying hair that was neatly combed back. Deep lines etched his face, a testament to the weight of the accusations that had plagued his life. He wore a plaid flannel shirt, its sleeves rolled up to reveal weathered hands and tattooed arms. His faded jeans hinted at a simpler, more practical lifestyle. Despite his casual attire, there was an underlying defiance about him.
“Thank you for inviting us in,” Callie said, extending a hand. He shook it while eyeballing McKenzie. It was clear from his expression that he had disdain for the detective. However, there was a flicker of curiosity and perceptive openness when he looked at her. His gaze softened momentarily, hinting at a willingness to engage in conversation.
“Yeah. Well. Let’s get this over with,” he muttered. “And Iwant you to make a note after. I don’t want any further contact with police.”
“Aye, we will,” McKenzie muttered as he gazed at the minimalistic elegance. The open-concept design emphasized spaciousness, with clean white walls and gleaming hardwood floors. There were large windows that allowed natural light to flood the room. Callie sat on the leather sofa in front of a glass coffee table. She soaked in the room, making judgments and assumptions. The walls were adorned with a few family photographs, capturing moments of joy and togetherness from the past. Yet it was noticeable that none were from the present. Each one was a time capsule. Old vehicles, dated homes, and businesses that no longer existed in High Peaks. All of which hinted at a sense of loss and solitude that Caleb now faced.
“Coffee or do you prefer arsenic!” he said, his gaze shifting to McKenzie.
McKenzie took the jab in stride, leaning forward with a smile. “Ah, I see what you did there. Touché.”
Caleb, on the other hand, didn’t look amused.
“Maybe later; we don’t want to take up much of your time,” Callie said.
The conversation began hesitantly, with Caleb expressing his weariness over the accusation that had tarnished his reputation and torn apart his family life.
“Twenty-five years I have lived in the shadow of a false accusation that forced me into a limelight that I didn’t want. I lost everything, so much that I had to leave High Peaks and move here.”
“Still close, though,” Callie said.
“I needed to be near my family.”
For the first time, McKenzie seemed content to let her take the helm on this one. If she wasn’t mistaken, he looked uncomfortable. Callie glanced down at the tablet, her notes, andquestions. She knew she had to delicately broach the subject, offering empathy and understanding while at the same time seeking to uncover anything that hadn’t made it into the reports. It wasn’t so much a process of elimination as it was understanding Caleb’s perspective.
“Tell us about that time?” Callie said. “From what the reports say, you were brought in after someone accused you of sexual assault.”
“Falsely.”
“Of course,” she was quick to say. “You were cleared of all charges.”
He shook his head, glancing out the window at the harsh Adirondack winter. “Back then, I was a taxi driver for Peaks Taxi. I had just dropped someone off when I picked up this seventeen-year-old. She looked older. It was after one in the morning. It wasn’t far from High Peaks Resort. She said she’d been drinking and had lost her friends and cell phone. She asked how much it would cost; I told her eighteen dollars based on the miles. She only had ten, so we stopped at a bank where she took out another ten. I took her to her house, dropped her off, and she gave me twenty. The following day based on CCTV footage at the bank, they tracked me down and arrested me on the accusation that I had sexually assaulted this girl in the back of my taxi.”
“Right, which they eventually ruled out because your taxi was fitted with a tracking device that recorded all the movements of your vehicle.”
