Page 80 of Fatal Fame
Marcus nodded miserably. "I told you I didn’t do it."
"Why didn't you just tell us about Sienna?" McKenzie asked.
"Like I said, the cameras weren't working, so you wouldn't have believed me, anyway. And would you tell someone this? I figured because Pierce was missing that night, that he might still be alive and show up again. If I announced I was with Sienna and having an affair, and then he showed up alive, that wouldhave gotten Sienna and myself in..." He paused, struggling with the words. "And then when he showed up dead, telling you anything different than what I told you earlier about being in my room would have?—"
"Made you look guilty," Noah finished.
Marcus nodded, relief evident in his posture.
"Well, I think you have your alibi now," Maddie said with professional satisfaction.
"But I don't understand," McKenzie interjected. "What about the phone? What about what Mike Torres said?"
Maddie leaned back in her chair with the confidence of someone about to dismantle a prosecution's case. "Wasn't Mike Torres the prime suspect in the Hale murders ten years ago? I think it would be convenient for him to say that."
"The carrier has a record of the calls made," McKenzie protested.
"Maybe so, but try convincing a judge that Marcus made them based on his voice alone. A witness saying, 'I think that was his voice' is circumstantial evidence, it does not directly prove guilt. People misidentify voices frequently, even under normal circumstances. A judge would require phone records, location data, motive, opportunity, and other circumstantial facts, along with physical evidence like DNA, fingerprints, surveillance videos, and a recording of a voice to be analyzed by experts to compare his voice to the one that was heard." She paused, letting her words sink in before continuing. "Even then, a good defense attorney like myself would argue multiple possibilities such as voice cloning or mistaken identification. Voice identification alone is rarely enough for a conviction. At most, it might be probable cause to investigate or issue a search warrant, but that's it. You know that, Noah."
Noah looked at the evidence spread across the table, witness statements, phone records, timeline analyses—all of it pointingtoward a case that wouldn't survive first contact with a competent defense attorney. The blood and DNA evidence had cleared Marcus, the surveillance footage provided an alibi, and the voice identification was questionable at best.
He reached for his keys and uncuffed Marcus. "You're free to go."
After Maddie and Marcus left, McKenzie leaned back against the wall and groaned. "Some days I wonder why we bother."
He walked out, leaving Noah alone to collect the paperwork they'd accumulated. Case files, witness statements, evidence logs, all of it representing hours of work that had led to another dead end. Noah stacked the documents, his mind already moving to the next lead, the next possibility, the next chance to find Landry's real killer.
The interview room felt smaller now, its cinder block walls closing in like the narrowing possibilities in their investigation. Somewhere out there, a murderer was walking free while they chased shadows and alibis. But that was police work, following every lead, eliminating every suspect, building cases one piece of evidence at a time until the truth finally emerged from the darkness.
29
Deputy Thorne stared at the evidence logs spread across her desk at the Adirondack County Sheriff's Office, her coffee growing cold as the implications of what she'd discovered settled into her bones like winter frost. Three hours of digging through decade-old paperwork had revealed a pattern that made her stomach churn—systematic manipulation of evidence that went far beyond simple bureaucratic incompetence.
Noah's request had seemed straightforward enough when he'd called that morning from following a lead his daughter had provided. "Look into the chain of custody on that latex glove from the Hale case," he'd said. "Something might not be right."
What Callie had found was worse than "not right"—it was criminal.
The original evidence log showed Deputy Anita Emerson as the collecting officer for multiple items from the Hale crime scene, including a single latex glove found in the kitchen area. But subsequent logs told a different story. The glove had been checked out for "additional testing" by Emerson herself monthsafter the murders, then never returned to evidence storage. No explanation, no follow-up documentation, no questions asked.
Worse yet, Callie had discovered a pattern of suspicious evidence sign-outs over the years, all bearing Emerson's signature. Cold cases that had gone nowhere, investigations that had stalled for lack of physical evidence, witness statements that had mysteriously disappeared from files. Always with Emerson's name attached, always with plausible explanations that looked legitimate on the surface.
Then there were the complaints, whispered concerns from other deputies about Emerson's rapid career advancement, her uncanny ability to close cases that had stumped more experienced officers, her tendency to work alone on sensitive investigations. Nothing actionable, nothing that rose to the level of formal accusations, but enough to paint a picture of someone who played by different rules. Or someone that had help.
Callie reached for her phone to call Noah, but it went straight to voicemail. Right—he was still in that interview with Greer, probably had his ringer off to avoid interruptions. She tried the direct line to the State Police office, but they told her he was gone.
Frustrated, she dialed Noah's home number, drumming her fingers on the desk as it rang twice before a familiar voice answered.
"Sutherland residence."
"Mia? It's Callie. Is your father there?"
"No, he's still at the station. Is everything okay?"
Callie hesitated. She'd been planning to discuss these findings with Noah first, to get his take on how to handle what amounted to potential corruption charges against a fellow officer. But something in Mia's voice made her reconsider.
"He must have turned his ringer off for the interview with Marcus," Callie mused. "Don’t worry. It's just police matters. I'll try him later."
"Is it regarding the chain of custody?" Mia asked, her question coming so quickly it caught Callie off guard.
