Death Canyon by David Riley Bertsch Page B

house?”
    Terrell started to respond, but Jake cut him off. “And don’t forget to read me my Miranda warning; you should have recited it in the cruiser.” Jake looked toward the wall over his left shoulder and smiled slightly. Very few cops knew criminal law as well as Jake Trent.
    Upon Jake’s insistence, Terrell now did so. Jake interrupted him and waived his rights.
    â€œLook, Jake, you and I have a couple of problems.” The chief hesitated, not wanting to give away too much information to a suspect.
    â€œThe man you brought in yesterday didn’t drown and didn’t die from hypothermia or exposure. Suffocated, but there was no water in his lungs. It looks like he just had his airway cut off. Lungs stopped taking in oxygen.” Terrell paused, knowing that his next sentence would sever the now tenuous relationship between the two men. “Jake, we think he was murdered.”
    â€œWait, you mean he was strangled?” Jake interjected.
    â€œNo . . . not strangled necessarily. The coroner seems to think that something was held against his face to block the intake of oxygen to his lungs—a hand, a plastic bag, who knows . . . a pillow. There is some bruising around his mouth and nose, and his front teeth were loosened from his gums by a pretty considerable force.”
    The chief watched Trent, as he was trained to do, to see if his body language would give him away.
    â€œI didn’t see any signs of a struggle when I found him. Did you find lacerations or bruises on his knuckles or wrists?” These were usually evidence of the self-defense instincts that kick in when a person is attacked.
    â€œSmith didn’t mention any,” Terrell responded, referring to the coroner. “But I don’t know how you suffocate without struggling.”
    â€œInebriation,” Jake quickly replied, not intentionally aloud, “or the influence of certain drugs. Either could explain it. A large amount of alcohol or drugs can act as an anesthetic. The victim may not have even known that he was being suffocated.”
    â€œHold on, Jake. There’s more,” he said, trying to regain control of the conversation. The chief shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “We identified the body. The guy was a young lawyer working for a litigation firm in Boise. Went missing five days ago. Left work one day and never made it home.”
    â€œYou think I’m out eliminating my competition, Roger?” Jake laughed. “It’s a cutthroat business, man, but not literally. I don’t even practice anymore.”
    The chief pressed on. “That’s just it, Jake. This particular lawyer happened to be doing research for a developer working on a project here in Jackson. Finding loopholes, or whatever it is that you people do.” The slight was intentional. “The man was apparently trying to find an argument that would allow the developer to ignore a conservation easement, because it was not properly recorded or something.”
    Shit. Really?
    Jake thought of the argument he was to present to the council later that night. He hoped he would be released quickly and wouldn’t have to explain his absence.
    â€œAnyway,” Terrell continued, “some guys here at the station—cops, you know, also work as civil servants in other capacities . . . like you. Your name came up right away. They told me you are fighting any development of this piece of land that would violate the easement.”
    â€œAlleged easement, according to them. And so you think I killed the developer’s lawyer?” Jake asked, indignant. He was starting to wonder whether he should call a lawyer to represent him. No part of Jake wanted to spend any time in the county jail.
    Even the most experienced trial lawyers prefer to hire counsel rather than represent themselves in criminal matters. Perhaps this point speaks to the lawyer’s true opinion of