Tracey V. Bateman - Reasonable Doubt

It had been some years since detective Keri Mahoney had heard her first love’s name, but it had cropped up only too often in recent weeks. Her sister Raven’s phone call got her full attention. “What about him?”

“I think the Kansas City police are getting close to an arrest. Justin and his lawyer spent the better part of the afternoon in an interrogation room with the detectives working his wife’s homicide.”

“I just can’t believe it,” Keri breathed, almost to herself.

“I absolutely don’t believe it,” Raven said emphatically. “Justin Kramer is no killer.”

“Not when he was fourteen, you mean.” But considering he never bothered to keep in touch after his family’s move, how could Keri really know if he was capable of murder at the ripe old age of twenty-nine?

The Mahoney Sisters: Fighting for justice and love.

REASONABLE DOUBT

SUSPICION OF GUILT

BETRAYAL OF TRUST

lives in Missouri with her husband and their four children. She writes full-time and is active in various roles in her home church. She has won several awards for her writing and credits God’s grace and a limited number of entries for each win. To relax, she enjoys long talks with her husband, reading and music and hanging out with her kids, who can finally enjoy movies she likes. Tracey loves to encourage everyone to dream big. She believes she is living proof that, with God, nothing is impossible.

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“For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”

—Jeremiah 29:11

Dedicated to my niece Amanda Guidry.

Thanks for your editorial input and practical,

commonsense ideas as I put the proposal together

for this book. You are so talented. I look forward

to watching as God unfolds your future.

Dear Reader,

Is God really a God of second chances? Would Jesus have told His disciples to forgive seventy times seven if He Himself were not willing to do the same?

These were the questions probing my mind and heart as I worked on Reasonable Doubt. Looking back at the poor choices I’ve made over the years, and particularly in my late teens and early twenties, I am awed and humbled at the grace God has poured into my life to give me a future and a hope that I don’t deserve. His mercies are new and fresh daily. Oh, how grateful I am for that.

The world is so hopeless, so unforgiving, but we have a message to give that there is hope. As Justin and Keri discovered, although poor choices drove them apart, God saw the end from the beginning and brought them back together in order to use them for His glorious purpose.

My prayer as I write this, my first letter to Steeple Hill readers, is that God spoke to your heart through this book, that He assured you that you have His plan and His purpose for you—a future and a hope, new mercies every day.

Until next time, may God bless you and keep you in His care.

Tracey V. Bateman

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Justin Kramer knew two things for certain.

One, he hadn’t murdered his wife.

Two, the detectives weren’t buying it.

The four-month-old memory of Amelia’s body lying facedown on the blue living-room carpet was etched as a horrifying image in his mind. An image Justin knew he wouldn’t shake for the rest of his life—which, if the cops had their way, would be spent up the river, without possibility of parole.

The detectives stood over him like a couple of lions working together to bring down a zebra. Justin’s glare swept them both. “What do you think my wife’s killer is doing while you two are playing good cop/bad cop for the third time?”

Detective Raney slapped his hands flat on the table and rested his considerable weight on tree trunk-like arms. He leaned forward and stared Justin square in the eye.

Disgusted, Justin clamped his lips together and shifted backward. The guy’s breath stank of cigarettes and coffee—one or the other was enough to gag a horse. Together they were nothing less than cruel and unusual punishment.

The detective pressed forward to close the distance caused by Justin’s not-so-subtle retreat. “Just shut your smart mouth and answer the questions.”

Without even trying to hide his amusement, Justin twisted his lips. “I can’t shut my mouth and answer the questions at the same time.” He knew he sounded like a juvenile delinquent, but he was getting pretty sick of being accused of murder when he’d done nothing worse than allow Amelia to run all over him for years.

Detective Appling clapped his partner on the shoulder, effectively getting him out of Justin’s immediate air space.

Appling’s face molded into an amiable expression—one obviously carefully practiced and intended to instill confidence in the would-be criminal. “Come on, Justin. Don’t you think it’s time to tell the truth?”

The good-cop routine was getting old. Justin leveled his gaze at Appling. “Didn’t you two switch roles? Seems like last time you hauled me in for questioning, you were the heavy.”

Detective Appling’s eyes glittered hard. His lips tensed and turned down at the corners. He perched on the edge of the table, no longer playing a pal. “Let’s talk about where you were the night your wife was killed. Say…around eleven-thirty.”

“He’s told you where he was. Repeatedly.” Bob Landau, a friend and the only attorney Justin knew, sat in a chair at the other end of the table, looking a lot more comfortable than he had any right to while Justin’s freedom dangled from a worn-out thread.

Justin’s call had interrupted a workout, so the lawyer had gunned it over to the police station without bothering to change out of a pair of sweats, running shoes and a sweatshirt. Nor had he bothered to remove his Chicago White Sox baseball cap. In Kansas City Royals territory that act alone was practically criminal.

Detective Raney sneered at Bob. He snagged a metal chair leg with his booted toes and pulled it out. With a grunt he plopped into the seat. “I’m tired of getting the same answer.”

Too bad for him. Justin only had one answer to give—the truth. “For the third time, I was at the Victory Mission Men’s Shelter. All night. I didn’t leave until a little after six the next morning.”

He’d never forget sitting up with Ike Rawlings all night while the alcoholic shook and vomited out his addiction. Only Jesus had gotten them through those horrific hours. In the morning, Ike had surrendered to Christ. Chills still crawled up Justin’s spine at the awe of a life changed. God’s love and glory manifested in one life-changing moment.