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Authors: H. Terrell Griffin
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tired, Counselor. I’m fine.”
“Where are you?’
“Can’t tell you yet, Matt. You might have to tell the cops at some point.”
There was a small chance he was right. “Okay, for now, Logan. I met with the prosecutor yesterday. She wants you to give yourself up.”
“No way. I’ll rot in jail waiting for the trial. The only way I’m going to get out of this is to find out who killed Connie.”
“I also met with the medical examiner. It may not be as bad as it looks.”
“What did he say?”
“He can’t conclusively say Connie was raped, but he can conclusively say the semen was yours.”
“I told you we had sex that night. When I left you at Moore’s I took my boat back to Bradenton Beach Marina, and Connie was waiting. As soon as I tied up, she jumped in the boat. The place was deserted, and Connie started grabbing at me, telling me she wanted me bad. She didn’t have anything on under her skirt, and she lay back over the engine cover and told me to get on. I tell you Matt, it was erotic. Here this woman is with her skirt up at her waste, no panties, her legs spread, and ordering me to perform. I about lost it right there in my pants. She kept screaming at me to do it.”
“Logan, Doc Hawkins says there was a lot of bruising around her vagina. How could that happen?”
“Matt, she was crazy that night. Every time I got near her she would push her body at mine. I know this sounds terrible, but she liked to have broke my dick a couple of times. It hurt like hell. I would get close, and she would lunge. Finally, it went in, and I came immediately. She did too.”
“Was this unusual behavior, or did you two go at it like this regularly?”
“It was unusual, Matt. Sometimes she liked it rough, but that never turned me on. She wanted me to slap her once, and I refused. Another time she asked me to squeeze her nipple hard enough to hurt. I did and it seemed to turn her on. I think there was something dark down in her mind; something left over from the husband. But she had never been like this before.”
“What time did this happen?”
“As soon as I got to the marina. I left Moore’s about 9:30, and its only a ten minute run up to Bradenton Beach.”
“Did you stay there long?”
“No. It was really weird. The whole sex thing didn’t take more than ten minutes, and she left. She was strange that night. I asked her if she wanted to come to my place, and she just laughed. She didn’t say anything else; just left.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went to Dewey’s.” Dewey’s was a bar on Bridge Street on Anna Maria Island.
“How long were you there?”
“About time for one beer. I ran into my Army buddy, and we left and walked down to Frisco’s where it was quieter and we could talk.”
“The buddy with no name. Why didn’t you tell the cops you had been with Connie that night?”
“Gotta go, Matt. Call you later.”
The phone went dead. I sat at my desk, thinking again about trial strategy. If the state couldn’t prove rape, and I didn’t see how they could after what Bert Hawkins had said, all they had was that Logan had hd sex with Connie on the night of her death and that she was found in his condo. That wasn’t much to hang a murder case on, and I figured Elizabeth Ferguson knew that as well as I did. She must have something that I didn’t know about.
Elizabeth probably didn’t know about the alibi and the nameless army buddy. Given the time of death, I was pretty sure that Logan’s army friend could clear him. If Logan’s times were correct, he would have gotten to the marina about 9:40, had sex and left by 10:00. Dewey’s was only about two blocks from the marina, so he would have been there a few minutes after 10:00. That also fit with Pearl’s memory that Connie showed up at her piano bar a few minutes after 10:00. It would be about a ten minute drive from the marina to Pearl’s bar.
The ME said that Connie was killed between 11:00 and 1:00 with maybe
“Where are you?’
“Can’t tell you yet, Matt. You might have to tell the cops at some point.”
There was a small chance he was right. “Okay, for now, Logan. I met with the prosecutor yesterday. She wants you to give yourself up.”
“No way. I’ll rot in jail waiting for the trial. The only way I’m going to get out of this is to find out who killed Connie.”
“I also met with the medical examiner. It may not be as bad as it looks.”
“What did he say?”
“He can’t conclusively say Connie was raped, but he can conclusively say the semen was yours.”
“I told you we had sex that night. When I left you at Moore’s I took my boat back to Bradenton Beach Marina, and Connie was waiting. As soon as I tied up, she jumped in the boat. The place was deserted, and Connie started grabbing at me, telling me she wanted me bad. She didn’t have anything on under her skirt, and she lay back over the engine cover and told me to get on. I tell you Matt, it was erotic. Here this woman is with her skirt up at her waste, no panties, her legs spread, and ordering me to perform. I about lost it right there in my pants. She kept screaming at me to do it.”
“Logan, Doc Hawkins says there was a lot of bruising around her vagina. How could that happen?”
“Matt, she was crazy that night. Every time I got near her she would push her body at mine. I know this sounds terrible, but she liked to have broke my dick a couple of times. It hurt like hell. I would get close, and she would lunge. Finally, it went in, and I came immediately. She did too.”
“Was this unusual behavior, or did you two go at it like this regularly?”
“It was unusual, Matt. Sometimes she liked it rough, but that never turned me on. She wanted me to slap her once, and I refused. Another time she asked me to squeeze her nipple hard enough to hurt. I did and it seemed to turn her on. I think there was something dark down in her mind; something left over from the husband. But she had never been like this before.”
“What time did this happen?”
“As soon as I got to the marina. I left Moore’s about 9:30, and its only a ten minute run up to Bradenton Beach.”
“Did you stay there long?”
“No. It was really weird. The whole sex thing didn’t take more than ten minutes, and she left. She was strange that night. I asked her if she wanted to come to my place, and she just laughed. She didn’t say anything else; just left.”
“What did you do then?”
“I went to Dewey’s.” Dewey’s was a bar on Bridge Street on Anna Maria Island.
“How long were you there?”
“About time for one beer. I ran into my Army buddy, and we left and walked down to Frisco’s where it was quieter and we could talk.”
“The buddy with no name. Why didn’t you tell the cops you had been with Connie that night?”
“Gotta go, Matt. Call you later.”
The phone went dead. I sat at my desk, thinking again about trial strategy. If the state couldn’t prove rape, and I didn’t see how they could after what Bert Hawkins had said, all they had was that Logan had hd sex with Connie on the night of her death and that she was found in his condo. That wasn’t much to hang a murder case on, and I figured Elizabeth Ferguson knew that as well as I did. She must have something that I didn’t know about.
Elizabeth probably didn’t know about the alibi and the nameless army buddy. Given the time of death, I was pretty sure that Logan’s army friend could clear him. If Logan’s times were correct, he would have gotten to the marina about 9:40, had sex and left by 10:00. Dewey’s was only about two blocks from the marina, so he would have been there a few minutes after 10:00. That also fit with Pearl’s memory that Connie showed up at her piano bar a few minutes after 10:00. It would be about a ten minute drive from the marina to Pearl’s bar.
The ME said that Connie was killed between 11:00 and 1:00 with maybe
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