Free Out For Justice by Vicki Taylor Page A

small tables that bookended the couch. The rest of the dusty, sticky surface held empty and partially empty beer cans. Beer cans and soda cans even littered the floor along the front of the couch and the only chair. Looking up at the ceiling, she could see brown-ringed watermarks where the roof leaked. From the look of the house, it probably hadn’t had any repair work done in years.
    The room had an unpleasant, sour odor that Karen wrinkled her nose at. The more she stayed in the room, the stronger the odor became.
    An avalanche of clothes spilled out of a box in the corner. Karen couldn’t tell if they were dirty or clean. Looking for anything that might link Thomas to the crime scene, Karen used a gloved hand to sift through the mess of jeans and t-shirts. Finding nothing, she turned and perused the room. She’d made her way mostly around the room, stopping once to pull the couch from the wall so she could look behind it. As she looked around the room from her new angle, she hoped she’d find something, anything she might have missed.
    Her gaze fell on Maggie. She wondered when she returned to the living room and how long she’d been standing in the doorway. Karen looked at what Maggie held in her hands. A pair of brown hiking boots with red laces. They looked to be about the same size as the print they found near the body. Karen crossed the room to get a closer look at them. She itched to snatch them up and examine them closer. Keeping her hands behind her back, she kept her distance in order to preserve the possible evidence.
    Karen called out, “Sam, get in here.”
    Footsteps sounded in the other room. The floor creaked in the kitchen as Sam strode across it and entered the living room.
    He stood in the middle of the room, not looking at Maggie. “What’d you find?”
    Standing next to Maggie, Karen gingerly held up a boot between her gloved finger and thumb. “How about these?”
    Sam let out a low whistle.
    Karen nodded and smiled. “I think Mr. Thomas has just become a very special person of interest in this case.”
    “Sykes, how did you find these? Were they in one of the common rooms?”
    “I mentioned to Maggie that we might be looking for a pair of boots. She went into the bedroom and returned with the pair you see here.”
    “Ms. Morris, do you own these boots?”
    “Me? No, sir.”
    “Do these boots belong to Mr. Thomas?”
    “Ray? Yeah, I think so.”
    “Ms. Morris, are you offering these boots to us?”
    “These boots? I don’t know. I mean, they’re not mine, but the detective did say you were looking for boots, and these were the only ones I could find. Do you think I should?” Maggie turned from the doorway and cast questioning eyes toward Karen.
    “I can’t make that decision for you. You must make it on your own.” Karen kept her voice level and tried not to sound too excited. She didn’t want to influence Maggie in any way that could lead them to trouble in case they had to go to trial.
    “Me? I can’t do that. I guess I’d better keep them here and talk to Ray when he gets back.” She held the boots close to her chest, hugging them and staring at the floor.
    “That’s your prerogative, ma’am.”
    “Sykes?” Sam leaned against the door jam, his eyes narrowing. A crease wrinkled between his eyebrows.
    “Yeah, Sam?”
    “Let’s talk outside.”
    After explaining to Maggie that they were finished for the moment, Sam and Karen headed out of the stifling little house and into the cooler comfort of their air-conditioned car.
    “So, what do you think?” Karen asked while she stripped off the gloves she’d been wearing. Sam had already taken his off as soon as he left the house.
    “I think we need those boots.”
    “But how do we get them if she’s not going to give them to us?
    “I don’t know.” Sam adjusted the vents in the car to blow the somewhat cold air toward his face. “We’re walking a fine line here. We can tell her how much they mean to our case,