Read Online Playing Dead by Allison Brennan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Allison Brennan
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girlfriend, Claire had already left a message for him, but he hadn’t returned her call.
She tried digging deeper into Oliver Maddox, but there was very little about him. He had a paper posted in the archives of the UC Davis newspaper website. As an alum—even though she’d never graduated—she could access it using her former student ID. It was a paper on the criminal justice system, more than twenty pages. She skimmed it to see if it mentioned her father’s case. It appeared to be an indictment against the current appeals process. She didn’t see anything related to her dad, but she printed it out to read over more carefully later.
Claire’s father had been convicted because of opportunity and motive. His gun was used, but there were no prints on it. It had been wiped clean, which the prosecution claimed was O’Brien’s attempt to cover up the murders. There was GSR on his hands, but he’d been at the gun range earlier that morning. The prosecution claimed he’d premeditated the murders, and therefore made sure that he had a good reason to have gunshot residue on his hands.
Other than the timeline, there was no other hard evidence. The jury, like the prosecution, didn’t believe that anyone else had the means or motive to kill two people at that exact time. No one had seen anyone else—stranger or friend—in or near the house.
Claire had trusted the prosecutor, Sandra Walters. Ms. Walters wanted justice for her mother and Chase Taverton. She’d been kind and supportive from the beginning, treating Claire with kid gloves both on and off the witness stand. Dave and Bill Kamanski, whom she stayed with during the trial, made sure that Claire was treated well. Everyone seemed overly nice to her then, but those months were a blur.
Bill hadn’t wanted her to come to the trial at all, but Claire had to. She had to hear everything, to try to understand how her father could have killed two people. How he could have killed her mother.
Claire didn’t remember the specifics of the trial. It was as if she’d listened to every word, and imprinted the transcript in her mind, but when she tried to recall details of testimony they were fleeting, just snippets of conversation here and there.
Two weeks before she started her sophomore year in high school, her father had been convicted. The trial had only lasted eight days, but it had taken nine months to build the case.
Three days after the conviction, the judge sentenced Thomas O’Brien to death.
In the courtroom, her father had turned and stared at her, his eyes haunted.
She’d run to the bathroom and dry-heaved.
“I’ve told the truth.” Her father’s flat plea bounced in her head. I’ve told the truth. I’ve told the truth.
She could not accept it. Who else? Who else could have killed them? And why?
Her father had never admitted that he killed Lydia O’Brien and Chase Taverton. Even fifteen years of prison time and a half-dozen appeals hadn’t changed that.
And today, he’d said the same thing.
Oliver Maddox had found something. At one time, the Western Innocence Project had been interested in the case, otherwise why would they have had the files in their office?
Still, maybe Maddox was just trying to grandstand and come up with some brilliant thesis, or get himself some press, but he had to have a reason to tell his girlfriend that he had proof of “The Perfect Frame.” He had to have a solid reason to come to Claire and tell her he believed her father was innocent. He had to have something to convince her father that proof of his innocence was attainable.
She owed her dad—Claire owed herself —the truth. If not now, when? When her father was dead? When it was too late?
Tammy said Oliver was supposed to meet with his advisor, Professor Don Collier, that Monday. The missing person report would have been filed with the Davis Police Department. She needed to talk to the detective in charge and see if she could get copies of his reports—who
She tried digging deeper into Oliver Maddox, but there was very little about him. He had a paper posted in the archives of the UC Davis newspaper website. As an alum—even though she’d never graduated—she could access it using her former student ID. It was a paper on the criminal justice system, more than twenty pages. She skimmed it to see if it mentioned her father’s case. It appeared to be an indictment against the current appeals process. She didn’t see anything related to her dad, but she printed it out to read over more carefully later.
Claire’s father had been convicted because of opportunity and motive. His gun was used, but there were no prints on it. It had been wiped clean, which the prosecution claimed was O’Brien’s attempt to cover up the murders. There was GSR on his hands, but he’d been at the gun range earlier that morning. The prosecution claimed he’d premeditated the murders, and therefore made sure that he had a good reason to have gunshot residue on his hands.
Other than the timeline, there was no other hard evidence. The jury, like the prosecution, didn’t believe that anyone else had the means or motive to kill two people at that exact time. No one had seen anyone else—stranger or friend—in or near the house.
Claire had trusted the prosecutor, Sandra Walters. Ms. Walters wanted justice for her mother and Chase Taverton. She’d been kind and supportive from the beginning, treating Claire with kid gloves both on and off the witness stand. Dave and Bill Kamanski, whom she stayed with during the trial, made sure that Claire was treated well. Everyone seemed overly nice to her then, but those months were a blur.
Bill hadn’t wanted her to come to the trial at all, but Claire had to. She had to hear everything, to try to understand how her father could have killed two people. How he could have killed her mother.
Claire didn’t remember the specifics of the trial. It was as if she’d listened to every word, and imprinted the transcript in her mind, but when she tried to recall details of testimony they were fleeting, just snippets of conversation here and there.
Two weeks before she started her sophomore year in high school, her father had been convicted. The trial had only lasted eight days, but it had taken nine months to build the case.
Three days after the conviction, the judge sentenced Thomas O’Brien to death.
In the courtroom, her father had turned and stared at her, his eyes haunted.
She’d run to the bathroom and dry-heaved.
“I’ve told the truth.” Her father’s flat plea bounced in her head. I’ve told the truth. I’ve told the truth.
She could not accept it. Who else? Who else could have killed them? And why?
Her father had never admitted that he killed Lydia O’Brien and Chase Taverton. Even fifteen years of prison time and a half-dozen appeals hadn’t changed that.
And today, he’d said the same thing.
Oliver Maddox had found something. At one time, the Western Innocence Project had been interested in the case, otherwise why would they have had the files in their office?
Still, maybe Maddox was just trying to grandstand and come up with some brilliant thesis, or get himself some press, but he had to have a reason to tell his girlfriend that he had proof of “The Perfect Frame.” He had to have a solid reason to come to Claire and tell her he believed her father was innocent. He had to have something to convince her father that proof of his innocence was attainable.
She owed her dad—Claire owed herself —the truth. If not now, when? When her father was dead? When it was too late?
Tammy said Oliver was supposed to meet with his advisor, Professor Don Collier, that Monday. The missing person report would have been filed with the Davis Police Department. She needed to talk to the detective in charge and see if she could get copies of his reports—who
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