The Murder of Sara Barton (Atlanta Murder Squad Book 1) Lance McMillian (ereader with android .txt) 📖

“Glad to hear it, but this is not a social call. Something’s happened in the Barton case.”

I joke, “Barton confessed?”

The joke doesn’t go over. Lara jerks her head to me, confusion worrying her face. I shake my head and mouth, “No.”

Scott continues, “Sam Wilkins is dead. Gunshot wound to the head.”

The line stays silent as I process the news about my friend. The brutal world I inhabit claims another victim. I fight the good fight, but it is no use. I cannot win.

“I’m sorry,” Scott says to break the quiet.

“What do we know?”

“Not much. I got a call from the FBI a few hours ago about a body found in the East Palisades area of the Chattahoochee National River Park.”

I interrupt, “Is that in the city limits?”

“Barely. I got the call and made my way over there. Very secluded part of the park. I arrived and there he was, lying on the ground with the gun next to his body. He’d been there for some time. The feds think maybe a day, yesterday afternoon probably. Since it is federal property, the FBI technically has the lead. It’s too dark now to do much of anything. They’ll be out early tomorrow morning to see if any evidence is about, and I’ll join them.”

The gun next to the body throws me for a loop. I had assumed murder.

“Suicide?”

Lara’s eyes go wide. I try to make Sam for suicide. That night at The Varsity, he seemed more together than at any other point after Sara Barton’s murder, but that was months ago now. His mood was always one that swam with the tide—up when things were good and down when things were bad. Maybe the tide turned against him again.

Scott answers, “Don’t know yet. We’re not ruling out homicide. The FBI stopped doing gunshot residue testing about ten years ago, and we can’t tell yet if Sam fired the gun or not. The feds are letting us perform the autopsy. I’ll make sure that Cecil tests for the residue. We’ll have a better idea then.”

“The feds going to be a problem?”

“I doubt it. I don’t think they really care and would probably welcome us handling most of it. They’re not murder guys. Now if he had chopped down a tree in their park, they would be all over it. Him being dead under the tree doesn’t bother them as much.”

I agree. The federal connection to the case is marginal. The FBI will likely defer to us. Murder or suicide, the case against Barton just got bushwhacked. All Millwood has to do is convince one juror that reasonable doubt exists. With another dead body muddying the waters, his job becomes that much easier.

I ask, “Does Liesa know?”

“The FBI told her an hour ago. I don’t know how she took it. Should I go try to talk to her?”

“No. Let her grieve. She has her children to think about.”

“Okay. She might better respond to you anyway. You coming up?”

“Not tonight. I’ll head that way in the morning.”

We hang up. I think about Liesa and our disastrous interview following Sara Barton’s murder. I doubt she would respond well to me at all. The thought is short-lived. Lara pounces on me for information.

“Who killed himself? Bernard?” Something akin to hope shows in her.

“No. Sam Wilkins. And we don’t know yet if it was suicide.”

“Sara’s lawyer? The one who found the body?”

“Yeah.”

She looks confused, which matches my own feelings. Her confusion soon gives way to agitation.

She asks, “What does this mean for Bernard?”

“It complicates things.”

The answer doesn’t agree with her. She stands up and stews around the room. I remain numb. The bodies keep piling up around me.

“‘Why does it complicate things? You still have the gun.”

“The more dead bodies, the more Millwood can divert the eyes of the jurors off the core of the case—Barton’s murder of your sister. That’s what we want to talk about. Now Millwood gets to talk about something else.”

I pretend to be Millwood.

“‘Sam Wilkins is dead. That’s interesting. Sam Wilkins had the opportunity to kill Sara Barton. He’s the one who discovered the body. Why was he even there at that time of night? That’s curious. Did he kill her and then kill himself out of guilt over his terrible deed?’ Stuff like that is the problem. It complicates things. But you’re right, we still have the gun. We still have a lot of things.”

I try to sound confident, but doubt seeps into my voice. The threat to the case is deeper than I let on. I know something that Lara does not. Sam was sleeping with her sister. Does Millwood know? Scott never memorialized his interview of Sam on the night of the murder, which means that no written record of Sam’s admission exists. Scott planned on writing it down but never had a chance in the hurried aftermath of the discovery of Sara Barton’s body. By the time he circled back around to it, we had Barton in our sights and decided the less said about Sam the better. But Scott won’t lie on the stand. If Millwood asks the right questions, the information may come out unless I can prevent it on hearsay grounds. That is a battle for another day.

Lara screams, “This is crazy. Just because some guy who barely knows my sister shoots himself, Bernard may walk? You promised me you would get him!”

She smashes her wine glass against the fireplace. The glass is part of my Mom’s favorite set of crystal. Mom will notice it missing within five minutes of returning home. That’s not an insignificant problem in my world. But the trouble before me is a more pressing concern. I dare not tell Lara about Sam and her sister. That news would push her over the edge.

While I work out the new math in my head, Lara paces like a caged tiger in heat. The back-and-forth progression is dizzying. I need her to calm down and think straight.

“Relax,” I