Right Behind Her (Bree Taggert #4)(14)

“Yes.” Bree checked her watch. She’d purposefully stalled until the judge would be gone for the day. “I don’t want to turn him loose just yet. He looks like a flight risk, and we have no idea if he killed those people or simply found the skull.”

“And decided to play with it?” Matt raised a brow.

“I’ve seen weirder.”

Matt agreed with a nod. “So have I, unfortunately.”

Bree chugged the rest of her coffee, set the mug in the sink, then turned to Matt. “Ready to interview Shawn Castillo?”

“Let’s do it.” Matt carried his mug with him down the hall.

Bree opened the door. Shawn sat at the table conferring with a middle-aged man in a slick charcoal-colored suit. Slick was the attorney, no doubt. His hair was jet black with the perfect amount of silver at the temples. He was writing on a yellow legal pad. When Bree and Matt entered the room, he flipped a page to cover his notes.

The room smelled like hamburger and body odor. Bree glanced in the trash can and spied a crumpled-up fast-food bag.

Shawn sat back, slumped his shoulders, and crossed his arms. He glared at Bree. He might be a middle-aged man, but he wore insolence like a teenager. A take-out drink cup sat on the table in front of him. Who had bought him food? Not the attorney. He’d just arrived.

The attorney half stood for a split second. “Lyle Croft. I’ll be representing Mr. Castillo.”

Bree introduced herself and Matt.

Lyle resettled in his chair and smoothed his tie. He offered no opening comment. He folded his hands on the legal pad in front of him.

“I have some questions for your client.” Bree slid a Miranda acknowledgment and a pen in front of Shawn. She recited his rights, then said, “I need you to sign that you understand these rights.”

Shawn glanced at his lawyer, who nodded. Shawn signed.

Bree put the signed sheet in the file and returned the pen to her pocket. “This interview is being recorded.”

“Now I have a question for you.” The attorney flipped a page on his notepad, then read off a list of the charges Shawn had been booked on. “Do you really think you’re going to make any of these charges stick?”

He was taking the offensive? Interesting.

“I do,” she said. “Shawn is being held on trespassing, assaulting an officer, drug possession, concealment of a human corpse, and tampering with evidence.” Though Bree had no doubt Shawn would ultimately plead to lesser offenses. Technically, this was his first offense.

Lyle lifted the paper to check his notes. “He assaulted an officer?”

“Yes,” Bree said. “He threw rocks at me. It’s there in the report.” She’d considered adding a second simple assault charge, but the rocks hadn’t come close to hitting her brother. Some cops would have padded the arrest to allow for negotiating room, but Bree wasn’t a game-player. She’d rather make her case on the evidence.

The attorney didn’t seem impressed. His mouth curled in a smirk much like his client’s. “Did you identify yourself as the sheriff?”

Bree nodded. “Yes. Multiple times.”

Lyle wrote a note.

“Your client had prescription opioids in his possession.” Bree faced Shawn. “Do you have a prescription for the hydrocodone?”

“Don’t answer that, Shawn,” the attorney said without taking his gaze off Bree. “How can you prove the backpack belonged to Shawn?”

“I saw him carrying it,” Bree said.

“How do you know he was carrying that particular backpack and not one that looked like it?” the attorney asked.

Bree didn’t break eye contact. “I saw the backpack very clearly.”

“While you were running at full speed through the woods?” The lawyer’s brows rose in doubt.

“Yes,” Bree said without hesitation.

The attorney lifted his pen. “Did you find my client’s fingerprints on the backpack?”

“No.” Bree let him think he had the upper hand.

Shawn gave Matt and Bree a smug stare. Bree wasn’t a violent person, but his privileged smirk was definitely slappable.

The attorney nodded but said nothing. “You’re going to file the drug charges anyway?”

“Yes.” Bree sat back. Did Shawn really think he could beat the charges by throwing his backpack a few yards? “We also found drugs in the footlocker in the loft.”

The attorney lifted a smug eyebrow. “Can you prove any of the items in the loft belong to my client?”

Bree dropped the bomb. “We matched a thumbprint from the baggie of drugs to Shawn.”

In the middle of writing a sentence, the attorney paused. Beads of sweat broke out on Shawn’s forehead, and his personal funk began to smell like fear. Had he not expected them to find prints? Seemed strange. Everyone knew all about prints in the age of CSI.

Bree addressed Shawn. “Why were you at the Taggert property?”

He shrugged, his eyes wary. “I like it there.”

Matt leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table. “We found a sleeping bag in the barn. Is it yours?”

Shawn’s gaze darted to his attorney.

“Lying to us will only make things worse for you,” Bree said. “We have your thumbprint on the bag of drugs from the footlocker. I have no doubt we will find additional prints that match yours. The things in the loft belong to you. There are hairs in the sleeping bag. I’m sure DNA analysis will prove they’re yours.”