Free Behind the Yellow Tape: On the Road With Some of America's Hardest Working Crime Scene Investigators by Jarrett Hallcox, Amy Welch Page B

in the tip, and it wasn’t long until the hunt was on for Beckham. Rodney had heard that he was being sought after, and so he hid for a couple of days to “sober up” and to get his story straight. Even so, he eventually told the police several different stories to cover his own ass, weaving a bizarre tapestry of lies and half-truths that even he couldn’t keep up with. He told stories about buying crack supplies at a Kroger supermarket, including Bic lighters, a Chore Boy (a copper scouring pad commonly used as a filter in a crack pipe), and rubber gloves—to “throw off” the cashier, he said. He told more stories, of leaving Stacy in the hotel room and going back to find her beaten, and others of how he knelt down to hold her head as she moaned, and how her limp neck allowed her head to roll, striking him on the chin and “spattering” fine drops of blood onto his arms and into his eyelashes. He told more imaginative stories of how he touched nothing except a shiny tire gauge that he saw out of the corner of his eye as he fled the room, which he then threw across the motel parking lot. The police never found many items: Stacy’s money, underwear, pants; the hotel’s television remote and towels; all of the items Beckham claimed to have purchased at Kroger; and whatever was used to beat Stacy. And Beckham told yet even wilder stories of not knowing how a bloody shirt of his ended up in the trash where he lived, and how somebody else must have put it there. Linda would later tell the jury in her closing arguments that he “wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him in the butt.”

    The bloodstained mattress at the Beckham murder crime scene.
PHOTO BY TIM CARNAHAN, OFFICE OF THE COMMONWEALTH’S ATTORNEY,
54TH JUDICIAL CIRCUIT
    After police discovered that Rodney Beckham was lying to them, not to mention the bloody T-shirt in the trash behind his place of residence, he was arrested for the attempted murder of Stacy Beals. She managed to survive for weeks on life support. But eighty-three days later doctors removed Stacy from life support, and she slipped away forever. Beckham’s defense team tried to argue that he couldn’t be charged with murder because “she’d be alive if they had left her on life support.” But their argument fell on deaf ears, and the charge was amended to murder.
    On the final day of trial, the defense called their last witness to the stand—Rodney Beckham. They examined him slowly, methodically, coddling him through his lies, his specious timeline, while ignoring many of the details that mattered most, like the bloody shirt in the garbage (and the blood spatter in his eyelashes). It was almost embarrassing to watch; there was little for them to defend. While Beckham answered the questions on the stand, Linda furiously took notes at her table, her demeanor growing more and more tense every time he spoke. The anger on her face came to a crescendo when Beckham began his tearful sobbing at the very end of his testimony. “I might be a piece of shit to a lot of people, but I’m not a murderer,” he told the court, his final words under direct examination. It was now Linda’s turn to cross-examine. Up until this point of the trial, she had been very friendly with the witnesses, but her demeanor changed with Beckham. Where the defense was slow, quiet, and unsure, Linda was not.
    “Mr. Beckham, you indicated that Stacy was a friend of yours and that you thought a lot of her,” Linda began as Beckham continued to wipe away his tears. “Yes, I did,” he said, sniffing. “You know what today is?” Linda asked angrily. “Yes, I do,” Beckham responded, with an almost glad tone. “And what is it?” Linda asked again of Beckham. “Today is her birthday,” Beckham informed the court. “Today is Stacy’s birthday,” Linda repeated softly and remorsefully, fighting back tears. “Would you have known that prior to this happening?” Linda asked him, with disdain. “No, I would not,”