Logan swallowed hard and pulled out a pad of paper to take notes. “What exactly were they questioning your husband about, Mrs. Kincaid?”
“They think he’s the Rosewood Peeper,” she said with dismay.
He tried not to stiffen too obviously in his seat. The people in Rosewood had gotten quite wound up about the peeper. If word got out that Pat Kincaid was a suspect, they’d have him strung up in the square before Logan could do anything about it.
“Why do they suspect your husband?”
“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say. But they did ask my husband a lot of questions about his work boots; where he ordered them, what size he wore, could they see them? He handed those shoes over without hesitation.” Jeanette frowned. “That was stupid of him. I watch enough Law and Order to know that was a bad idea. He should’ve waited for a warrant or subpoena or something. He’s so convinced that his innocence will be proven, he’s making dumb mistakes.”
Shoes? Logan remembered hearing a footprint had been found outside one of the windows where the peeper was reported. They probably wanted to compare treads, but to trace the shoe to Pat initially, they must’ve identified the type of shoe as one carried at the local shoe store, Good Soles. If they searched their records for that style and size and came up with Pat’s order, that might have brought the police to their door without any evidence.
“Does your husband have an alibi? Were you with him on any of the nights the peeper struck?” Jeanette got quiet then. He knew instantly that she wasn’t with her husband. Any officer worth his salt would’ve come to the same conclusion if they asked her that question as well. That was troubling from a defense standpoint. If he wasn’t home, how could she possibly know it wasn’t him?
“No,” she admitted at last. “I’m not certain of every date, but on the night they asked about specifically, I wasn’t with him.”
“Even though you weren’t with him, do you know where Mr. Kincaid was that night?”
“He told me he had to work late,” she said.
Logan noted that she answered the question without really answering it. Just because he said he was at work doesn’t mean that’s where he was. And judging by Mrs. Kincaid’s demeanor, she didn’t believe his story.
“Does your husband work in the evenings a lot?”
“Every now and then. He’s the manager at the Piggly Wiggly. Usually he works the day shift, but over the last few months there have been a lot of evenings where he’s had to stay until nine or ten at night.”
That would be something the records at the store could prove or disprove. Of course, if he was the manager, Pat could make sure the records said whatever he wanted them to say.
“Mrs. Kincaid, do you have any reason to believe that your husband wasn’t where he said he was on those nights he worked late?”
There was an initial flash of panic in her eyes, but it quickly faded. Her lips tightened into a flat line and she shook her head a little too adamantly. “My husband wouldn’t lie to me. If he said he was working, he was working. But either way, he’s not the peeper. That’s the most important thing you need to know. Are you willing to represent him?”
L
ogan sat back in his chair and considered his options. This could end up being a high-profile case, at least in Rosewood terms. It could bring a lot of publicity, both good and bad, to his tiny firm. He could make an ass of himself publicly if he botched this. And even if he did a flawless job and Pat was acquitted, there would be people in town who would still think he was guilty and would blame Logan for getting him off.
At the same time, it could all go well and he could really make a name for himself as an attorney in Rosewood. It would sure be sweet to see Norman Chamberlain knocked down a peg or two.
Before he agreed to anything, he wanted to talk to Pat. He got the feeling his wife wasn’t telling Logan everything. The question was whether it was because she was hiding the truth to protect her husband, or because she didn’t know the whole story. “Mrs. Kincaid, why isn’t your husband here to speak to me about this?”
“Like I said, he doesn’t think he needs an attorney. Old fool. I came here without telling him because I know, I just know, that they’re going to arrest him. It would be a huge mistake, but I know Sheriff Todd is under a lot of pressure to catch this guy.”
“Well, I have to admit I’m intrigued, and inclined to take your case. But before I do, I really need to speak with your husband.” The Piggly Wiggly was only a block away from his office, so there was no reason why he couldn’t come by after work. “If you could get Mr. Kincaid to come by here tonight when he gets off work, I’d be happy to chat with him. You can rest assured that if he needs an attorney, I’ll see to it he gets one, even if he’s resistant to the idea.”
Jeanette breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ll do that. Thanks so much, Mr. Anthony.” She stood up and Logan escorted her out of his office and down the hallway to the lobby.
Once she slipped out the front door, Logan decided to make a field trip to the Rosewood Library. The library archived every copy of the Rosewood Times and each incident of the peeper was likely reported in the paper. After that, he’d follow up with Clark Newton to see if there was anything he heard about that didn’t make it into the periodical.
Logan wanted to compile a list of dates and locations to see if there was a date for which they could exclude Pat Kincaid as a possible suspect. He technically wasn’t the man’s attorney yet, but Logan already knew which side he was leaning toward.
Playing Candy Crush Saga wasn’t going to build his law firm.
Being bold would.
And potentially representing the Rosewood Peeper was a make-or-break type of case that rarely popped up in a little town like this one.
Chapter 12
There was a lot to be said for the excitement of a southern wedding, but there was nothing like a southern funeral.