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"Lucille Avery?" the male voice on the phone asked.
"Yes, how may I help you?" I asked.
"Actually I can help you. I am looking at a package which I have for you. It's from the Texas State Police. If you stop by and do the paper work I will be happy to return your .38 Saturday night special to you," he said.
I had expected a detective with whom I had previous contact to make the delivery. Instead it was a patrolman who was assigned to the property room. My guess is that the pistol was in some kind of area safer than a detectives desk drawer while it awaited my arrival.
"Fair enough, I will get down there this morning," I said into the smart phone.
Once he was off the line, I finished my morning routine. That routine included a shower and a quick hair brush. Just enough make up so that I didn't look like a corpse. With those two items completed, I rode the trike to the police station where I picked up the pistol.
Since I wasn't on the road, I rode the trike to the mall so that I could walk. I decided that forty five minutes was a minimum amount of walking for a woman my age. I could walk all day, but I doubted that more was all that much better. I had been a downtown walker at lunchtime now and then, but never a mall walker. The place and the people were new to me.
Probably because I wasn't in any hurry, I made only two miles in forty five minutes. I was walking for flexibility not cardio. That being the case I figured the two miles was fine. Besides I decided that I would get some exercise messin' around with a bike, even one without pedals.
I was on my way back to the office when the phone rang. I had to pull the trike over since I was expecting a call from Todd, the realtor. Sure as hell it was him.
"So are you ready to go the $150k?" he asked without even a good morning.
"Good morning Todd, no I'm afraid not. I would still like to make a deal at 100 k though." I said.
"I just can't do that. How about we make a compromise at 125k?" he asked.
"Not in this economy, I just can't justify it. Tell you what I will do, I ill give you 110K in nice new hundred dollar bills. You won't have to deal with a week of jumping through hoops only to have someone's credit be bad. I would still want all the same checks and balances a mortgage company would ask." I said.
"Oh hell with the economy like this Cash is worth the discount," he said in agreement.
I spent the morning getting the money into my safety deposit box at the bank. I wanted the money ready whenever Todd got the paperwork ready. I sat down at an old laptop and prepared a check list of things I needed before I handed over the money.
I got around to seeing Jane Sutton at 2PM. It was in the visiting room at the jail. The room I met her was supposed to be free of cameras and audio recorders. My digital audio recorder would be the only one allowed.
Jane had that hollow junkie look about her. She would probably get healthy again while she was in jail. Then most likely she would rush out and get high again. Once people fell into that life style, they seldom got clean just from a few months away from the junk. It was always rattling around on the edge of their consciousness, I am told.
"Well Jane you look like shit,"I said as a greeting. I had no intention of pulling any punches with her.
"I know," I been coming down for the whole tree days that I have been inside. I think I am at baseline now." she said.
"Where did you hear baseline?" I asked.
"One of the Doctors at the rehab clinic used it a lot. You know, have to get you to baseline before we can do any real work. That kind of thing." she said. She was also biting her nails between tortured sentences.
"You do know he meant you can't work on kicking the habit unless you are totally clean?" I asked. It could easily have been a case of the doctor and the patient speaking different languages.
"Yeah I knew, I'm not a complete idiot," she said.
"There are those who would disagree." I had picked up a copy of the police report on the way inside. I looked down at it then said, "Felony possession of heroin and conspiracy to commit murder. So tell me about it." I demanded.
"I turned a trick and needed to get well, so I went to Lowball's crib," she said.
"Lowball is the street name of the murder victim?" I asked.
First she nodded then said, "I was at the door knocking when I heard an explosion, A minute or two later the door burst open and a man with a shotgun pushed past me. He pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger. I was terrified, but the gun was empty."
"You told this to the police?" I asked.
"Hell no Mrs. Avery, I have to go back to live on that street. That little animal will finish the job on me if I talk."
"If you don't. you are going to take the weight for this killing. You don't want to do that, do you?" I asked, "So what did you do after he ran past you?"
"I went inside and found his drug stash. I took it all and ran from the house. The cops found me high that same afternoon." she said.
There was one big question, what turned the cops on to my client. That was the first question I had for the detectives. Instead of talking to the detectives, I settled for the police incident report.
According to the report a neighbor saw Jane leaving the house after the shot. If the story was true the neighbor heard the shot went to the window but the killer had gone. Jane was already in the house stealing the drugs. The neighbor saw her leave.
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