Passions of the Dead (A Detective Jackson Mystery/Thriller) by L.J. Sellers Read Free Book Online Page B

the recorder. “Stand up, please.” Jackson walked to the other side of the table and scrutinized the suspect’s clothing. He saw no blood but he hadn’t expected to. Twenty-four hours had passed. “Roll up your sleeves and hold out your hands.”
    Engall did as instructed. His fingers had a grayish tinge from years of paint stain. “Turn them over.” A two-inch gash on his forearm was still fresh, the skin around it raised and red.
    “How did you get the cut?”
    “I work with my hands and use a utility knife every day. What’s this about?”
    Jackson pulled his camera from the bag and took a picture of the wound. “It looks like somebody in the Walker family fought back.”
    “It’s a scratch! I come home with these all the time.”
    “I’ve already talked to your wife, Roy. I know you didn’t come home last night. Tell me where you were.”
    “I was drinking at the Time Out Tavern.”
    “What time did you leave?”
    “I don’t know.” Roy took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I had a blackout. I woke up early this afternoon in my van in the parking lot of Value Village.”
    “Your statement is you don’t remember anything about last night or this morning?”
    Roy hesitated. “Yes.”
    “I’m supposed to believe that?” Jackson gave him a look of incredulity.
    “It happens sometimes.”
    “Who were you drinking with?”
    “I had a few beers with my painting crew, then they went home. I had a few beers with another friend named Steve Zuckerman. After that I don’t remember.”
    “It’s not much of an alibi.”
    “Why would I need an alibi?” Engall blinked rapidly as he spoke. He was a terrible liar.
    “Jared Walker and his family were murdered last night. A white van was seen outside their house, and you experienced a binge drinking blackout. You also have a defense wound made by a knife. This doesn’t look good for you.”
    Engall’s face crumbled. After a moment, he remembered to act surprised. “Jared’s dead? And his family? How horrible.”
    “What did you and Jared argue about when you went to his house last night?”
    “I wasn’t there!”
    “How much blackmail money was Jared asking for?”
    Engall’s eyes registered a little panic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “We found Jared’s list.” Jackson slid the paper across the table. He needed Engall to feel trapped.
    “Jared never said anything to me. We haven’t talked since I laid him off. ”
    “Your wife called Jared’s cell phone this morning looking for you. I believe you and Jared have been in touch.”
    Engall slumped a little. “I called him a few times last month asking him out for a beer but he never picked up or called back. He was mad at me.”
    Jackson decided to mix it up. “What have you got against Carla?”
    “Nothing. I like Carla.”
    “Did she hit or scratch you to defend Jared? Is that why you cut off her hand?”
    Engall lost a little of his natural flush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    Jackson slid an image of Carla’s severed hand across the table and laid it next to the blackmail list. “She must have really pissed you off.”
    Engall stared at the wall.
    “Look at the photo!”
    “You’re wrong about me.”
    Jackson stood. “Let me see your feet. Put one shoe up on the table.”
    Engall started to object, then thought better of it. He lifted his right foot to display a pair of white, paint-stained running shoes.
    “Size ten?”
    “So?”
    “The tread looks familiar. You left tracks in the blood on your way out of the Walker house. It’s enough to convict you.” Jackson took close-up photos of the shoes, then snapped shots of Engall wearing the shoes. He didn’t have a subpoena yet to seize evidence from Engall. The blackmail list and this photo, alongside the crime scene picture of the footprints, would convince a judge to let them search Engall’s property and collect his DNA.
    “I want to call my lawyer.”
    “First, let’s