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“Just a random,” Jacqueline said. “I don’t know more than what I just watched with you. Matthew’s parents called me when they heard. No word from the police. No apology, no statement that Matthew had been wrongly accused. So goddamn typical. I’m heading to see him now.”
“Okay,” Alex said in a hesitant tone. “Are you buying it?”
“Buying what?”
“That a random auto mechanic from Maryland wound up at McCormack University and just happened to rape and strangle a student journalist who was about to drop an explosive story about the university and the Greek system it supports?”
The silence from the other end of the line was evidence that Jacqueline, too, doubted the sudden conclusion to the Laura McAllister saga.
“I agree that this development is surprising, but evidence doesn’t lie, Alex. Reece Rankin’s DNA was all over the scene. But Reece Rankin is not my concern at the moment. Matthew is. And until he’s fully out of the woods on this case, and no longer on the police department’s radar, he remains our main priority.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to pause.
“Matthew Claymore is our client and our only concern,” Jacqueline said.
“I got it,” Alex finally said. “I hope this nightmare is over for Matthew.”
“Me too,” Jacqueline said. “I’ll touch base when I know more.”
The call ended and Alex continued to watch the muted television, knowing that either Matthew Claymore had just gotten extremely lucky, or something wasn’t quite adding up.
CHAPTER 51
Washington, D.C. Monday, May 15, 2023 10:00 a.m.
TWO WEEKS HAD PASSED SINCE REECE RANKIN, THE RANDOM DRIFTER from a Maryland trailer park, was arrested and charged with the murder of Laura McAllister. Although there had been no motive for the crime other than a deranged man stalking a college student while she walked a forested trail near campus, the evidence of his guilt was overwhelming. The man had left his DNA all over Laura McAllister’s body—it included epithelial cells from where the rope he used to strangle her had frayed away the skin on his hands, pubic hair, and sperm. In addition, fibers recovered from Laura’s hair matched a rug that lined the trunk of Rankin’s Toyota, and footprints sequestered near Laura’s body were an identical match to the man’s work boots. It was a certainty beyond a reasonable doubt that this man had strangled and raped Laura McAllister for a reason that appeared to be no more complicated than lust, a lack of self-control, and a complete disregard for life.
The press coverage had calmed down since the arrest of Reece Rankin. Of course, there was a breathless, yet brief, dive into the man’s background—who he was, where he worked, what his neighbors thought of him—but the interest in Reece Rankin was fleeting, and the media were now on to other sensational stories. The press would circle back to Laura McAllister for brief updates when Reece Rankin appeared in court and when he was sentenced. They would flash photographs of the pretty girl on newscasts and in tabloids. But the media and the public would soon forget about Laura McAllister. A missing girl was more interesting than a dead girl. And a dead girl was interesting only as long as her killer was on the loose. It was the sad reality of American society. Gory crimes captured the public’s interest, especially if they involved young, attractive women. But that curiosity lasted only as long as there was mystery surrounding the gore and the girl. Once the pieces were laid out and the puzzle was assembled, the public’s thirst was quenched. Until, that was, another girl went missing or another family was mowed down in the middle of the night. Then society morphed into a thirsty nomad wandering the desert and denied of water for days. The public would gulp insatiably from any trickle that dripped from the media spigot. True crime had become pop culture—an ugly, circuitous guilty pleasure to which most people were so accustomed as to not even be embarrassed by it.
Despite the open-and-shut case surrounding Laura McAllister, no one had been able to explain how Matthew Claymore’s backpack ended up at the crime scene. It was an unknown that kept Lancaster & Jordan active on the case and interested in any new developments as they pertained to their client. During follow-up questions, which took place under the watchful eye of Jacqueline Jordan, Matthew had explained to detectives that he’d lost his backpack a week earlier. He surmised under questioning that perhaps Laura had taken it accidentally the morning she’d left his apartment—the last time he saw her. The police were less than satisfied with the explanation, but with no other forensic evidence tying Matthew to the crime, they had no choice but to drop him as a suspect.
Alex’s work on the case was finished, and she had already been assigned to another. Matthew Claymore was in her rearview mirror, but the case had brought her to an interesting crossroads. During her investigation she had managed to get her hands on Laura McAllister’s unaired episode chronicling rape accusations at McCormack University, and that information produced an opportunity.
She walked into The Perfect Cup, ordered two slow-poured Americanos, and took a seat at the same table where Annette Packard of the Federal Bureau of Investigation had ambushed her a couple of weeks before. Today, however, it was Alex who arranged the meeting and would be doing the negotiating. She was halfway through her Americano when Annette walked in and sat across from her.
“Thanks for calling,” Annette said. “I was glad you reached out.”
“I got you a coffee.”
Annette wrapped her hand around the cup. “Thank you.”
“I’ve thought about your offer.”
“And?”
“And, I think we might be able to help each other.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve managed to get my hands on Laura McAllister’s unaired story. Just because Laura was killed doesn’t mean her story is dead. It’s alive and well, and I’m in the strange position of being the only person with access to it. Well, that’s not true. I made a copy of it from a hard drive in McCormack University’s recording studio, so the university has the story as well. But the administration at McCormack will bury Laura’s story and hope for it to quickly decay. I feel like I owe it to this girl I’ve never met to make sure that doesn’t happen. And trust me, you’re going to want to know the details of Laura’s story before it goes live. It’ll have a direct impact on Larry Chadwick.”
“Duncan Chadwick was involved?”
Alex nodded. “Laura had proof—well, she wasn’t a detective, so ‘proof’ might be overstating it—but she had damning verification that Duncan Chadwick was the one who purchased a date-rape drug called Liquid G, spiked the drinks at his fraternity party, and raped the girl who filed the police report. Laura did a lot of legwork. Her story is big and towering, and its shadow covers many people, including school brass that did their best to keep the story quiet. But as Laura’s story pertains to you, Larry Chadwick’s son is not only going to come off terribly, but will likely be questioned in regard to the claims made in Laura’s story, and possibly charged with rape. If they can trace the purchase of the gamma hydroxybutyrate back to Duncan—and Laura managed to track down the dealer who sold it to him—things will be even worse for him.”
Annette stayed quiet for a moment and Alex saw that she was considering her options.
“If Laura’s story comes out,” Annette finally said, “and Duncan is attached to the scandal, it would sink his father’s chances of being confirmed to the Supreme Court. If I were made privy to this information before it made it to the mainstream media, I’d have no choice but to advise the president against nominating Larry Chadwick.”
