“I appreciate you taking the time to meet with us,” Imperatore said once Pete had claimed the vacant seat.
“As I told you on the phone, Detective Baronick will be questioning Mr. Landis. DA Frattini wants a fresh perspective on the case.”
“We understand and will cooperate fully with the detective.” Imperatore shot a glance at his client, who slouched in the chair next to him, gaze lowered to the table. “Nevertheless, Mr. Landis believes you and he developed a bond during the initial investigation. From my own experience, I know you’re a fair man, Chief Adams. I hope you’ll hear what Mr. Landis has to say and keep your mind open.”
Pete recognized when a lawyer was blowing smoke up his ass. The “bond” Imperatore mentioned had only lasted until Pete uncovered the truth. “I’m listening.”
Client and attorney exchanged a look. Imperatore nodded.
Landis placed his folded hands on the table and raised his eyes to meet Pete’s for the first time. “I didn’t kill my wife.”
“That’s what you brought me here to tell me?”
Imperatore narrowed his eyes. “Chief. Please.”
Pete gestured with one hand—go ahead.
“I’ve said all along that someone else—a stranger—killed her that night in the parking lot. But no one looked into the possibility.”
“You’re wrong. We did. No one in the plaza saw a stranger.”
Imperatore raised a finger to stop Pete. “Your own witness saw a man running from the scene after the shooting.”
“A man whose description matches your client.”
“No one saw a face. Only a tall male dressed in black.”
“We questioned the employees at the 24/7 Market. The only people who came in that night were regulars.”
“Did anyone see Mr. Landis?” Imperatore already knew the answer.
“No,” Pete said. “This was all gone over in the trial. The witness’ testimony alone didn’t convict Landis. The murder weapon he tossed in his office’s trash—”
Landis clenched his fists. “I never saw that gun before,” he said, his voice raising in pitch.
“Enough.” Imperatore shot a stern look at his client and then at Pete. “We didn’t bring you here to reiterate what’s already been said in the past.”
“So far, that’s all you’ve given me.” Pete checked his watch. He needed to get back to the station.
“Let me cut to the chase.” Imperatore reached into his briefcase, withdrew a photocopy of a newspaper story, and slid it in front of Pete. “Read this.”
He perched his reading glasses on his nose and picked up the sheet of paper. The headline read “Local Woman Shot in Parking Lot.” Then in smaller print, Assailant still at large. A quick check revealed the article was from a paper in western Ohio and dated eleven years ago.
The body of a forty-two-year-old Yellow Springs woman was found shot to death Tuesday night inside her car at the Oak Glen Shopping Plaza. According to the police, the gunman and a motive remain unknown. The coroner reports the victim died of a single gunshot to the head. The police are asking anyone who may have seen or heard anything to contact them.
“Sound familiar?” Imperatore asked.
Pete took off his glasses. “This article is from over a decade ago. I’m sure the shooter’s been caught.”
“You would be wrong, Chief. I’ve called the Yellow Springs Police Department. It’s still an unsolved case.” Imperatore placed another photocopied news clipping in front of Pete. “As is this one.” Another sheet. “And this one.” A fourth sheet. “And this one.”
Pete put his glasses back on and scanned the pages. The locations varied across Ohio, Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Maryland. The dates spanned a decade with the last one dated two years ago. But the similarities curdled Pete’s stomach. All were small towns. All the victims were women in their mid-thirties to mid-forties. All died from a single gunshot wound to the head. And all were found in their vehicles in deserted parking lots.
None of the police departments involved could name a suspect or a motive for the slayings. An FBI investigation was mentioned in the last article.
Pete looked over his glasses at Imperatore. “You’ve followed up on each of these?”
“I have. All remain unsolved to this day. And I think you have to agree, Vance Township falls well within the killer’s territory.”
“Assuming there’s only one killer,” Pete muttered.
“What are the odds of different killers all choosing the same type of women, the same type of location, and the same method of dispatching their victims?”
Not good. Except…Pete pushed the papers back to the attorney. “You’re still overlooking the fact that the gun used to kill Mrs. Landis was found in the trash right outside your client’s office. In a plastic bag bearing his fingerprints. Explain that.”
“It wasn’t my gun,” Landis said firmly. “I never saw it before the police showed it to me. And I throw at least a half dozen plastic grocery bags out in my own trash every week. The real killer could easily have taken one and used it to make me look guilty.”
“Your serial killer stuck around long enough to frame you?” Pete tapped the pile of news stories and looked at Imperatore. “In your research, did any of the other murder weapons show up on or near the victims’ spouses?”
The attorney’s expression told Pete he’d found the fatal flaw in their theory. “No,” Imperatore admitted. But he sat taller. “Our district attorney has assigned you and Detective Baronick to investigate the homicide of my client’s wife. From scratch.” Imperatore slid the photocopies back toward Pete. “So investigate. I’m offering you material that could very well provide our reasonable doubt.”
Which brought up a good point. “Why are you handing your defense strategy over to me? Why not have your own investigator dig into this for the retrial?”
Imperatore looked at Landis and gave a nearly imperceptible nod.
Landis faced Pete, his eyes glistening. “Because I don’t want to be cleared just for me. I didn’t shoot Elizabeth, which means the real killer is
