Chapter 48 Part 48
Asher
Finn’s name flashed on the phone’s screen, and Asher wiped his hands on the back of his jeans before he answered.
“Finn.”
“Sheriff Bill Connely’s on his way to your house with a search warrant. Because we’re related, I’m not allowed to join him, but he called deputies in from Fork Valley to assist him.”
“Do you know why?”
“You’re officially a suspect in Malcolm Walters’ murder.”
“Thanks, Finn.”
“If there’s anything in the house, get rid of it. Now.”
The call ended, and Asher stepped out of the shed. Three cruisers were headed down the road toward his house. It was too late now. A van followed behind the cruisers, and Asher gritted his teeth. It was a crime scene crew.
He had no idea if they would actually find anything in the shed, but he knew the house was clean. He’d burned the shirt and hosed off his truck. He doubted they would find any blood on the bed of the truck.
He walked to where Sheriff Connely had parked his cruiser, and the man had a grim look on his face.
“Afternoon, Sheriff.”
“Asher,” Sheriff Connely said. “We’ve got a search warrant for your house, the shed, and your truck.”
“I take it you’re not in the mood to wait until my lawyer arrives,” Asher said.
“Mike has the warrant. Please don’t interfere, Asher, or they will arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
Asher nodded his head, and turned toward the deputy that had just joined them. “Hi, Asher.”
“Hi, Mike. Thanks.” Asher took the offered search warrant, and scanned through it. It stated that they could search his property, the house, the shed, and his truck, securing any evidence they found.
While three deputies and the crime scene crew walked into his house, Asher walked to his porch, and sat down on the chair swing. There was nothing he could do but wait until they either found something or left with nothing.
The sheriff sat down opposite him, and for a moment, Asher wondered if they thought he’d make a run for it. He could hear the deputies moving around in his house, and now he was glad that he’d cleaned the fireplace.
It felt like hours before the first deputy walked out of his house, and shook his head. Sheriff Bill almost looked relieved. The other men from the house joined the first deputy, and they split up, three men going to the shed, and two men heading to his truck.
After the sheriff’s first visit, Asher had checked the shed again, but he hadn’t found anything. But now, as the men walked into his shed, he started to worry a little.
Asher stretched his legs out in front of him, and the sheriff shifted in his seat. He took his hat off and placed it on his lap. He looked conflicted, and Asher understood it. He’d known the sheriff his whole life and had, in fact, been arrested by him a few times.
“Asher, is there anything you’d like to get off your chest?”
“No, Sheriff.”
“I hope to God they don’t find anything. I don’t much like the idea of arresting you,” he said.
“It wouldn’t be the first time, Sheriff.”
The man grinned, and shook his head. “This ain’t like the time you kids stole Mr. Rutherford’s tractor, and when you borrowed Mrs. Granger’s horse. It’s not even remotely the same as that time you lot almost burned down the church.”
“I know, Sheriff, but I still don’t have anything to say,” Asher said.
“All right.”
“I’d offer you some coffee, but I’m not sure if I’m allowed to go into my house,” Asher said.
Two trucks sped down the dirt road, and Asher sighed. Of course, Finn called their father. Thomas was driving the first truck, and Blair was right behind him. His father jumped out of the truck, and stalked toward them.
“What in the hell is all this?” Thomas demanded.
“Calm down now, Thomas. We’ve got a legal search warrant on the grounds of new evidence discovered in the murder of Malcolm Walters.”
“What evidence?”
“I don’t have to tell you that.”
“Asher?” Thomas looked at him.
“I don’t know either, Pops,” Asher said, with a shrug.
“Sheriff Connely, you’ve known Asher his whole life. Murder?” Blair looked furious as he stood next to his father.
“Sheriff! We found blood!” The crime scene technician was standing in the doorway of the shed.
“I’ve got trace amounts of diluted blood on the bed of the truck as well,” the second technician said.
The sheriff lowered his head and sighed. “Anything you want to say to that, Asher?”
“No, Sheriff.”
“I’m going to need you to turn around, and place your hands behind your back.”
“On what grounds are you arresting him?” Blair asked, as he stood with his hands on his hips.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can, and will be, used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford one, the State will provide one for you.” The sheriff placed the cuffs on his hands, and gripped his arm.
“I understand my rights, Sheriff.”
“Blair! Call Preston!” Thomas followed the Sheriff as he led Asher toward the cruiser. “This ain’t right, Bill. Asher didn’t kill that man!”
“I’m only following the evidence, Thomas; it’s not like I want to do this,” he said.
Asher was guided onto the back seat of the cruiser, and the door was closed.
Asher watched as the crime scene guys took samples, and placed clear baggies into what looked like a steel toolbox. Photographs were taken, and notes were being made.
As the sheriff started the cruiser, he glanced in the rearview mirror. “I’m really sorry about this, Asher.”
“That makes two of us, Sheriff.”
At the Sheriff’s Department, he was taken to a cell, where the handcuffs were removed. “Mike will process you when he gets back. I can’t stomach it.”
“That’s fine, Sheriff. It’s not like I’ve got anywhere to be.”
Bill Connely grinned and shook his head. “Damn shame.”
Asher sat down on the bed, and rested his elbows on his knees. Someone killed Malcolm Walters, but it sure as hell wasn’t him. His biggest fear was that one of his brothers did it. They all had a lot to lose, but Asher knew the blood they’d found wouldn’t amount to anything unless they tested the blood. The longer he kept quiet and let the evidence prove his innocence, the more time his brothers had to get their stories straight.