Prologue
November 4, 2010
Carly Davenport-Caine never imagined that she would be here. Sitting in the cold and stark questioning room at an Atlanta police station was not in her grand plan. The smell of bitter, burned coffee pervaded her senses as she tapped her foot nervously on the dingy white tile flooring. Her life had started off so promising, so how in the world did she end up here?
Waiting for the detective to come question her yet again, Carly knew that they were probably staring at her through those double mirrors that she had seen on TV crime shows. Did they think that she had something to do with this? How could anyone think that she was capable of killing another person in cold blood? How could anyone believe that she had participated in the sick scheme to take the life of another person? She had never even had a speeding ticket, so surely they weren’t concocting a scheme to put her behind bars for a crime she didn’t commit.
She knew who did it. She told them who did it. Did they even believe her? Did they think she was an accessory? Every episode of Cops that she had ever seen in her life was running through her head. Every legal show that she had watched with bated breath seemed to be playing out in her mind as she tried to think through what would happen next. She had been at the police station for hours now. She felt disgusting, like she needed to take the world’s longest shower.
Telling the police the whole story had been the most frightening thing she had ever done. Watching someone get murdered was horrific enough, but knowing that she was putting her very life in the hands of strangers was just as scary.
She tapped her fingernails on the cold, metal table in front of her. Sighing, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her long blond hair. At thirty years old, she felt as if her life might be over soon. If anyone knew what she had witnessed, would she be dead soon too? Even though the killer was now in custody, she felt evil lurking around every corner.
“Carly?” Detective Cloud appeared behind her. He was an older man, and he reminded her of her late grandfather who used to take her fishing and camping when she was very young. His bushy white hair and matching mustache made him approachable, even if he was wearing a gun on his belt.
“Yes?” she said quietly. Looking in the mirror, she noticed that her mascara had stained her cheeks, but vanity was not high on her list of priorities at the moment.
“We need to talk a bit more about what happened tonight, okay?” Detective Cloud’s deep Southern drawl put her at ease, but she still wanted to get the heck out of there. He slid back into the chair across from her and cleared his throat before taking a sip of the stale smelling police station coffee.
“Detective, I have told you everything I know. I am exhausted mentally and physically. I just don’t know what else to say…” She laid her head down on the table for a moment before looking up at him with her sad blue eyes. Those blue eyes had gotten her out of some tight jams before, but they didn’t seem to be doing a darn thing this time.
“Carly, I need you to run through the events one more time with me while I record our conversation,” he said as he took a digital recorder out of his shirt pocket.
“What? Why? I thought you recorded it earlier.” Carly put her head in her hands. She got the feeling that they were trying to wear her down - that they were trying to make her so exhausted that she couldn’t think clearly. She decided that she had better play along to protect herself. “Fine,” she said sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.
“Good. Let’s get started,” Detective Cloud said as he pressed the record button. “For the record, please state your name.”
“Carly Davenport-Caine.”
“And your age?”
“I am thirty years old.”
“And what is your relationship
November 4, 2010
Carly Davenport-Caine never imagined that she would be here. Sitting in the cold and stark questioning room at an Atlanta police station was not in her grand plan. The smell of bitter, burned coffee pervaded her senses as she tapped her foot nervously on the dingy white tile flooring. Her life had started off so promising, so how in the world did she end up here?
Waiting for the detective to come question her yet again, Carly knew that they were probably staring at her through those double mirrors that she had seen on TV crime shows. Did they think that she had something to do with this? How could anyone think that she was capable of killing another person in cold blood? How could anyone believe that she had participated in the sick scheme to take the life of another person? She had never even had a speeding ticket, so surely they weren’t concocting a scheme to put her behind bars for a crime she didn’t commit.
She knew who did it. She told them who did it. Did they even believe her? Did they think she was an accessory? Every episode of Cops that she had ever seen in her life was running through her head. Every legal show that she had watched with bated breath seemed to be playing out in her mind as she tried to think through what would happen next. She had been at the police station for hours now. She felt disgusting, like she needed to take the world’s longest shower.
Telling the police the whole story had been the most frightening thing she had ever done. Watching someone get murdered was horrific enough, but knowing that she was putting her very life in the hands of strangers was just as scary.
She tapped her fingernails on the cold, metal table in front of her. Sighing, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her long blond hair. At thirty years old, she felt as if her life might be over soon. If anyone knew what she had witnessed, would she be dead soon too? Even though the killer was now in custody, she felt evil lurking around every corner.
“Carly?” Detective Cloud appeared behind her. He was an older man, and he reminded her of her late grandfather who used to take her fishing and camping when she was very young. His bushy white hair and matching mustache made him approachable, even if he was wearing a gun on his belt.
“Yes?” she said quietly. Looking in the mirror, she noticed that her mascara had stained her cheeks, but vanity was not high on her list of priorities at the moment.
“We need to talk a bit more about what happened tonight, okay?” Detective Cloud’s deep Southern drawl put her at ease, but she still wanted to get the heck out of there. He slid back into the chair across from her and cleared his throat before taking a sip of the stale smelling police station coffee.
“Detective, I have told you everything I know. I am exhausted mentally and physically. I just don’t know what else to say…” She laid her head down on the table for a moment before looking up at him with her sad blue eyes. Those blue eyes had gotten her out of some tight jams before, but they didn’t seem to be doing a darn thing this time.
“Carly, I need you to run through the events one more time with me while I record our conversation,” he said as he took a digital recorder out of his shirt pocket.
“What? Why? I thought you recorded it earlier.” Carly put her head in her hands. She got the feeling that they were trying to wear her down - that they were trying to make her so exhausted that she couldn’t think clearly. She decided that she had better play along to protect herself. “Fine,” she said sitting back in her chair and crossing her legs.
“Good. Let’s get started,” Detective Cloud said as he pressed the record button. “For the record, please state your name.”
“Carly Davenport-Caine.”
“And your age?”
“I am thirty years old.”
“And what is your relationship
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