Page 37 of Left Behind

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Sheriff Woodley arrived at the hospital with Carey’s personal belongings. Detective Gardner, the detective in charge of Billy Eggers’s murder, was with him as they made their way to Carey’s room. Even though they’d read the reports, they were not prepared for her appearance.

She was covered in bruises, healing cuts, and scratches, with visible staples in her head and the bandages still on her upper body from the gunshot wound. Johnny was sitting in his wheelchair beside her bed, and Tom was at the foot.

After the introductions were made, Rance Woodley held up a paper bag. “Miss Eggers, we’re returning your purse. It was on the floorboard of the car you wrecked and has nothing to do with either of our cases, so we’re returning it to you intact.”

“Is the money still there?” she asked.

“There’s money in there. I don’t know the amount of which you’re speaking.”

“Five hundred dollars. Billy gave me five hundred dollars,” she said. “Give it to Johnny. It was for his medicine.” And then she started to cry.

“I’m sorry this is upsetting. Is it still okay that we do this today?” Woodley asked.

“Yes, I want to get it over with and get well enough to go home. Give Johnny the bag, please. I don’t want it here in the hospital with me. Have you caught the man who shot Billy?” she asked as Woodley set up the video equipment.

Gardner shook his head as he handed the bag to Knight. “Not yet, but we have an ID from prints and DNA.”

Woodley fiddled with the focus until he was satisfied, and then began.

“Miss Eggers, since this is going to be your official statement as to all that transpired to get you where you are today, we’ll be recording it. Detective Gardner is investigating your brother’s murder, and I’m investigating what happened to you after the wreck and the attempt made on your life. If you get tired or need a break at any time, just let us know, okay?”

“Yes,” Carey said, and felt Johnny reach for her hand.

“Will you state your name, occupation, and where you’re from for the record?” Woodley said.

“Carey Jean Eggers. I’m a waitress at an IHOP in Bowling Green, Kentucky. I also live in that city.”

“Are you married?” Woodley asked.

“No, sir, but I am engaged to Johnny Knight. He’s a lineman for BGMU… That’s Bowling Green Municipal Utilities in the city. We live together.”

“For the record, Detective Gardner will begin the questioning.”

At that point, Gardner already had tests results from the crime scene, including Carey’s and her brother’s DNA at the scene, and fingerprints and DNA taken from beneath Billy’s fingernails belonging to man named Lonny Joe Pryor, a.k.a. Gunny, from Sparta, Tennessee, but he needed her verification on some details.

“Miss Eggers, why were you at your brother’s house on the day of the murder?” Gardner asked.

“Johnny was recently injured on the job and had surgery on his leg. He suffers a lot of pain. His workman’s comp hadn’t come through, and my payday was about five days away when we ran out of pain pills. I’d gone to my brother, Billy, to borrow money so I could get Johnny’s pain meds refilled.”

“Did you drive there?” Gardner asked.

“No. Our only vehicle was in the shop, so I caught the bus, then walked the rest of the way to Billy’s house. He was coming out of the house when I arrived, and of course, he immediately offered to help when he heard why I was there.”

“What happened next?” Gardner asked.

“We went inside together. He told me to help myself to a cold drink, so I got a Pepsi from the refrigerator while he went to open his safe. I asked to borrow a hundred dollars. Johnny’s meds were over eighty dollars. But Billy gave me five hundred dollars and told me it was a gift, not a loan. I was so grateful, and just as we were getting ready to leave the house, someone drove up.”

“Did you see the person or the car they were in?” he asked.

“I only heard the vehicle. I didn’t see anything when they drove up. I’m not even sure the driver was alone. I did briefly see one man come running out of the house from my side mirror as I was driving away, and I saw the man’s vehicle when I was getting into Billy’s SUV. It was a black Chevrolet short-bed pickup with a set of fancy mag wheels and a decorative rebel flag sunshade on the back window.”

Gardner frowned. Lonny Pryor didn’t own a vehicle, but they still had the DNA. “Okay, so what did Billy do when the person drove up?” Gardner asked.

Carey’s eyes welled. “He cursed. I knew it meant trouble. Then he handed me his car keys and told me to go to the kitchen and hide, and if I heard fighting and gunshots, to take his car and run and not look back. I argued. I didn’t want to leave him stranded, but he was firm, and I was scared and did what he said. I went through the kitchen into the utility room and shut the door between, opened the back door in case I needed to run, and waited.”

“What did you hear?” Gardner asked.

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