Page 31 of Witness To Murder
Lambert stared at Owen for a moment before turning back to Leah. “Mrs. Morris stated that you had been to the lake house many times with her daughter, Isla.”
“That is not true,” Leah responded. Owen had suggested she not answer any questions unless it was something very straightforward that they had already discussed. This one—a comment, actually—fit those parameters. He also warned her not to expand upon the most direct answer.
“You’re saying,” Lambert pressed, “that Mrs. Morris lied in her official statement.”
“What Ms. Gerard is saying,” Owen countered, “is that Mrs. Morris has never personally witnessed Ms. Gerard at the lake house. Her statement on the matter is mere hearsay.”
Exactly.Leah managed a deep breath. She was so glad she had been smart and let Owen answer that one. She would never have been able to come across so emphatic and logical. All the more reason she was incredibly thankful for this man.
She stared at him now. Maybe more than she should admit.
Lambert considered the open file in front of him once more. Leah wished she could read the words and clearly see the images on the pages, but she could only make out enough to be worried all the more. This thing just kept expanding.
“In your statement,” the detective said as he lifted his gaze to Leah, interrupting her worrisome thoughts, “from the incident at the restaurant, you said Raymond Douglas was being dragged across the floor and that there was blood on his temple, as if he had sustained a head injury.”
“Yes.” Leah bit her lips together to prevent saying more.
“Why couldn’t you see who was dragging him? That person was surely taller than the stainless steel table that blocked Douglas from view once he was pulled fully behind it.”
Leah waited for Owen to answer that one. She glanced at him. His full attention rested on the detective; the stony set of his jaw warned that he was losing patience.
“I visited the restaurant and viewed the window through which she witnessed the events that occurred in the kitchen that night,” Owen said. “The only way to see between the two tables that stood perhaps eight feet apart was to be looking straight through the window in that swinging door. On the other hand, the only way to see the person dragging Mr. Douglas would have been for her to step to her right and lean against the door.”
Leah nodded as he spoke. He was right. The view she’d had was limited, not only by the small size of the window but also by the shelving units flanking the door on the kitchen side. The window was designed to alert anyone approaching the door of someone about to push through it, not to provide a wide-angle view into the kitchen.
“My guess,” Owen went on, “is that the reason she did not do this was because, obviously, she was in shock. It’s a perfectly logical reaction. She saw Douglas on the floor, bleeding, and then his body being dragged along. It’s human nature to stare atsomething so surprising or shocking for a few seconds to ensure that you are indeed seeing what you believe you are seeing. Then another moment is required to react. By that time, the person pulling the victim would have been blocked from view by the stainless steel shelving unit loaded with pots and pans and other cooking related items next to the tables. I’m sure you noticed this as well, if you had a close look at the scene.”
Leah had not really thought about any of it at the time. She had been too busy staring at Raymond, unconscious or dead, on the floor. For several seconds she had been certain she was imagining it. She hadn’t even thought to look at who was pulling him—if she could have seen him or her. Once she realized it was actually happening, her only thought—the one pounding in her brain—had been to run for her life…and call the police.
The detective looked from Owen to Leah. “The medical examiner has tentatively called time of death at some point on Monday. In the afternoon, he suspects. But there is a good deal more work to be done in order to narrow down that time frame.”
His words echoed over and over in her brain before she could react. “Then you know it wasn’t me,” she said before she analyzed the prudence in doing so. Lambert had mentioned he had someone watching her after she went home Sunday morning. No doubt she was watched until she went to the safe house with Owen on Tuesday.
“In addition to watching Ms. Gerard,” Owen said, “I’m confident you’ve monitored the location of her cell phone.”
“We’re aware,” Lambert admitted, “that you did not murder Raymond Douglas.”
The words struck Leah like a tidal wave washing over the shore. Finally. Did this mean the truth was emerging? She wanted to be relieved, yet she knew there was abutcoming. She could hear it in his words, see it in his face.
“However, we still have questions as to whether you and your roommate have been working together. Planned and executed the event. Perhaps Isla decided to double-cross you, Leah. Have you considered this? It would be to your advantage to tell me all you know, and perhaps there would be a deal for you.”
Every ounce of strength she possessed was required to prevent responding to that statement with all the fury building inside her. She wanted to shout her indignation, to rant at him for wasting time by being focused on her. Instead, she deferred to Owen. He would know how to best react to the man’s ridiculous suggestion.
“In any scenario you can concoct,” Owen began, “how would Ms. Gerard’s participation in the murder of Raymond Douglas be believable, considering she would have known that the insurance policy would scream her guilt? You must be aware by now that she is a victim in this scam as well.”
Lambert scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He looked from Owen to Leah. “Not once in three years did you suspect your roommate was some sort of scam artist?”
Leah shook her head. “Never. Honestly, I can’t believe she would do this. Isla is brilliant. She’s going to be a doctor. Why would she throw it all away—even for five million dollars—when she has so much future potential to lose? I’m confident her lifetime income potential is far more than that amount. She’s young, with her entire life ahead of her. Think of all that would mean she was throwing away.”
It simply did not make sense. Who would do such a thing?
Big exhale from Lambert. “The answer is quite simple. Because your roommate is not a student in medical school or anywhere else. Not legally.”
Leah drew back at his words as if he’d slapped her. “What are you talking about? Isla is in her final year of medical school. I’ve watched her studying. Her schedule is insane.”
“Isla Morris was a medical student, yes,” Lambert confirmed. “But your roommate and Isla Morris are not the same person.”
Shock shimmered through Leah, rocking her to the very core of her being. She somehow managed to turn her head and exchange a glance with Owen. Judging by the expression on his face, he was more than a little surprised as well.
