"No.” He paused. “I don't know.” He shook his head. “I would never do something like that. It's not in my nature.”
Without his workout gloves on, the abrasions on his knuckles were obvious.
"Your prints were on Liam’s racket.”
John said nothing. He continued to sob.
"How did you get home from the club?”
"I don't remember."
We asked a few more questions, but we had enough. John was going to go down for murder. There was no doubt in my mind. Even the best defense attorney couldn't get him out of this one.
The cuts and abrasions on his knuckles were photographed. After that was taken care of, he was transferred to the pod where he would wait overnight for arraignment. I had no doubt John Wescott had the funds to make bail. With no prior history, there was a good chance it would be a reasonable amount. He’d probably be out by tomorrow afternoon.
JD and I spoke to the sheriff afterward, feeling reasonably confident.
“Nice work,” the sheriff said.
Jack beamed with pride. “What would you do without us?”
“How much time do you have? I’ll give you a list.”
Jack frowned at him.
“Don’t pat yourself on the back just yet.”
“He’s not getting out of this one,” JD assured.
“Pull his phone records,” I said.
“What am I going to find?”
“That he’s a hypocrite. My source tells me his phone makes numerous calls and texts to Megan Altman. Their phones show up together numerous times at the Seven Seas.”
“Who’s Megan Altman?”
“From what I can tell, she’s his daughter’s best friend.”
The sheriff groaned. “Good Lord. Those people in Stingray Bay are more messed up than anyone on the island.”
He shook his head in disgust as he walked off.
I jogged after him and caught up. “Hey, you got a minute?”
“What is it?”
“It’s about Denise.”
“What about her? You didn’t get her pregnant, did you?”
My brow wrinkled at him. “No. We are keeping our relationship strictly professional.” I told him, “She’s getting a little antsy.”
“Antsy?”
“Sitting behind a desk all day.”
“Maybe she needs a vacation. Hell, we all need a vacation.”
