MITCH WAS SPOT ONabout Duncan Morgansen. He didn’t even crack a smile and he acted like shaking my hand was a chore, however, I could see the shrewd brilliance Mitch had alluded to shining from his dark, shark-like eyes. I was still rattled by my conversation with Mitch in the car so my greeting to my new attorney was just as cursory. It wasn’t like undergoing an interrogation was on my list of things that would make a day great. Besides, I couldn’t help but be mad at myself for the way I treated Mitch both the night before and then in the car.
I knew he was hurt by what I said and how I said it. I didn’t need to see his eyes to know that he was upset; I could read it in his body language. I had only shared a foster home with him for a little over a year before he was taken away, but during that time I knew him better than he knew himself. Apparently, I hadn’t forgotten his tells either. The stiffening of his lips and posture spoke volumes and I needed to find a way to make it right without letting him think I changed my mind about us. That text I sent him was stupid. I fucking knew better than to tease someone like that, especially a boss that I had a personal history with. I was ashamed of myself and I unfairly took it out on him. Unfortunately for me, I had a feeling my hasty words were going to backfire in my face.
“Mitch isn’t coming?” Duncan asked, while eyeing the car appreciatively.
Yeah, my mind immediately went there and I wondered if they’d fucked before. I was certain it wasn’t the car that held Duncan’s interest. Just that easily, I saw an image of them in my mind and I fucking hated what I saw. I knew it wasn’t fair to push Mitch away and then be jealous over his personal life, but I was.
“He said he had some important calls to make and he’d wait for me.” I took a deep breath and released it. “I guess there’s no time like the present to get this damn interview over.”
“Let me do the talking, Mark. Go in there with your head up, shoulders back, and give the appearance of a confident man who has nothing to hide because he didn’t kill anyone.”
“I’ve killed many people during my sixteen years in the Marine Corps, Mr. Morgansen, but I am confident that I did not kill Erik Schafnitz.”
“Well, you have two strikes against you right now, Mark. One, your bloody fingerprints were all over the place. Two, you hired me. In their minds, only guilty men hire lawyers like me. It doesn’t matter what they think, it only matters what they can prove. They can’t prove that you fired the fatal bullet that killed Schafnitz. If this goes to trial, we only need to prove that there’s reasonable doubt by showing the jury that someone else wanted to kill him. That won’t be hard to do from the sound of it.” He held out his arm for me to proceed him up the steps.
I did just as he asked. I went to the place in my mind that I did when it was time to go into battle. I felt a sense of calmness come over me, my vision was sharper, my hearing was more intense, and my mind was crystal clear of everything except what I needed to do.
I firmly shook the hands of the detectives in the interview room when they introduced themselves to me and took my seat across from them. The interview room was nondescript, like the ones you see in TV series and movies. I placed my hands in my lap and focused all of my attention on the detectives as they documented the interview and people present for the video camera. I wasn’t nervous, because I had nothing to hide. The worst I should be charged with was assault, because that was what I committed.
“Mark, can you please recount the events of the evening that led to Erik Schafnitz being shot in the head and murdered?” Detective Jack Fowler asked.
“Don’t answer that, Mark,” Duncan said from the seat beside mine. “That question is misleading.” He turned to me and said, “Answer only what you know since you weren’t the one who shot Schafnitz in the head.”
“I received a call from a guy in a band that I was a bodyguard for and he told me that Erik had nearly beat another one of the band members to death a few days prior. Erik had caught the guy off guard, knocked him out, and then tied him up so he couldn’t get away. Erik proceeded to beat the man before he started choking him. The bandmates heard the commotion and kicked in the locked door to save him. They knew that the beaten man was an important friend of mine and wanted to let me know where they stashed him so he could safely recover.”
“Does this man have a name?” Detective Stan Harmon asked me.
“His name stays out of this unless it goes to trial and we need him to testify on Mark Bradley’s behalf,” Duncan snapped back. “I’ll share the details with the prosecutor during discovery, but not until it’s needed. The guy’s been through a lot and is rebuilding his life.” In that moment, I saw a spark of humanity in Duncan and I approved.
“What happened next?” Fowler asked.
“Damien… I mean Schafnitz was the band’s manager and I’d been to his house for parties a few times so I knew where he lived.” I left out the parts about the loser trying to seduce me, even though he was in a relationship with Xavier. What kind of friend was I to Xavier by not telling him that? I had so many regrets about a lot of things I should’ve done differently for him, but sitting across the table from eagle-eyed detectives was not the time to ruminate and show an ounce of guilt or remorse for anything.
“Did you drive to his house with the intention of beating him?” Harmon asked.
“I wanted to give him a dose of his own medicine, so yes. There was never a time I lost control of the situation or feared that I would kill him.” I leaned forward and pinned them with a confident stare before I added, “Uncle Sam trained me to be a killer who could sneak in to kill and sneak back out undetected. If I wanted to kill him, I promise you I could’ve made it look like a suicide or an accident and I guarantee the coroner would’ve agreed. When I hung up my rifle four years ago, I vowed to never kill anyone ever again and I meant it.” It wasn’t lost on me that I worked as a private bodyguard with a license to carry. Let’s just say that I hoped I had to never shoot someone again. “That promise didn’t include roughing up abusive sleaze bags who took pictures of the naked men he drugged to exploit and blackmail them. Whoever killed him hated him a hell of a lot more than I did.” Duncan placed his hand on my arm, which signaled me to stop talking. I was shocked he hadn’t stopped me before then.
“What time did you leave Mr. Shafnitz’s home and where did you go afterward?” Fowler followed up.
“I arrived at my employer’s house at around midnight so I must’ve left Erik’s house at around eleven twenty.” I hated to involve Mitch, but I had to tell the truth. The police hadn’t released Erik’s time of death so it was entirely possible that Mitch was my alibi. “I stayed there until around three thirty in the morning.”
“That’s kind of late for a visit to your boss,” Harmon commented. He raised his brows in speculation.
“He’s also my friend.” Well, he was until I accused him of wanting me to whore for him.What had I been thinking?
“I think that’s enough,” Duncan interjected before anything else could be said. “You’ve searched my client’s home and car and haven’t discovered the gun used to kill Schafnitz. You have no evidence tying my client to the shooting, just the assault he confessed to. I’m sure there were plenty of traffic cameras that caught Mr. Bradley on film at the times he said to corroborate his story and if you need a statement from his employer in regard to his alibi then I will make sure you have one. If you want to arrest him for assault, then please do so.” He reached over and tapped the evidence folder that the cops had on the table in front of them. “I know damn well you’ve seen the blackmail photos that my client mentioned, so I’ll happily take my day in court if you want to proceed with a trial. Any juror would want to give this decorated war hero a standing ovation for roughing up that jerk. An ass kicking doesn’t mean he killed him. If I’m you, I’m saving all of my energy for finding the real killer and leaving my client alone.” Duncan sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his expansive chest confidently.
The cops must have agreed because they ended the interview, but not before Fowler told me not to leave the state.
“No can do, fellas,” Duncan said. “Mr. Bradley runs security for Mitch Heston and travels with him wherever Mitch goes. You’ll need to get a court order to prohibit Mr. Bradly from leaving the state. And with the evidence you have, good luck with that.”
We stood and left the interview room without another word. In fact, I didn’t say anything until we left the precinct and were once again standing on the front steps. I stopped to shake Duncan’s hand once more before I continued onto the car. I was certain Mitch had better things to do than wait on me. I was glad to have the ride to the hotel to try and make amends and soften the tone of our earlier conversation.
When I got in the car, I learned that Mitch had different plans. “Where’s Mitch, Richard?”
“Something came up and he needed to leave so I called Steve to come and pick him up.”
“Alone?”
