A.W. Hartoin - Mercy Watts 04 - Drop Dead Red (31 page)

“It was, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.”
 

I headed past a rather ramshackle Tudor style house, down the street toward Derek’s frat. I didn’t plan on getting him to go with me, but Faith’s father and the rain changed that. I felt vulnerable after his hostility. With the decreased visibility, the black hoodie guy could walk right up to me, and I wouldn’t know it until it was too late.
 

“What are you going to do?” I asked.
 

“I’ve got a few markers I can call in.”
 

“To do what?”

“To take a second look at Pamela Farrell’s death, of course. Morty just texted me. Her insurance settlement was huge.”

“Do we really have to borrow trouble?” I asked as I turned to walk up the garish steps of Derek’s house.
 

Dad’s voice grew hard. “We didn’t borrow shit. Donald Farrell tasked us. He could’ve been polite to a young woman who showed up on his doorstep, but he wasn’t. He scared the shit out of you, didn’t he?”
 

I rang the doorbell. “Maybe a little.”
 

“Well, I’m going to scare the shit out of him. I’m damn good at it, too. Ask anybody.”
 

I didn’t need to ask. I knew first hand. Dad chased one of my dates down the street with a bat after he showed up for our date with a bottle of Colt 45 in hand and smelling like weed. I never saw Shane Ridley again, but I heard through the grapevine that he had to throw his underwear away. Dad was plenty scary when he chose to be.
 

“Don’t we have enough victims to deal with?’ I asked.
 

“We don’t make the victims, Mercy, my girl. We just deal with their deaths.”
 

“Well, if you’re sure.”
 

“Oh, I’m sure.”
 

That had an ominous tone to it, and I felt a bit sorry for Mr. Farrell. Dad would make his life miserable until he was satisfied, which he rarely was when it came to crime. If he got a whiff of something not adding up, he’d be on Farrell forever.
 

“I only wish Chuck was still there. You could use some backup on this,” he said.
 

I rang the doorbell again. “He is, unfortunately.”
 

“What the…Chuck is still there?”
 

“I left him at Nana’s this morning.”
 

“Are you kidding me? Stevie didn’t show? I thought we had that skinny idiot.”
 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve got him, too,” I said.
 

“Then why is Chuck still there? He’s supposed to get him and get out before the Costilla brothers get wind of Stevie’s whereabouts. I don’t want one of those freaks anywhere near you.”
 

“I don’t know what to tell you. They’re still here.”
 

“What did you do?” asked Dad. Darn it. I was so enjoying him being pissed at someone else for a change.
 

“I didn’t do anything. I don’t want either of them.”
 

“I knew I shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job.”
 

I laughed. “Chuck will be thrilled that you consider him a boy.”
 

“He’s a boy when it comes to you. You need to stop it now.”
 

“Stop what?”
 

“You know.”
 

“I don’t.” The door opened and an unknown frat guy looked out at me curiously. “Gotta go, Dad.”
 

“Mercy!”
 

I hung up with pleasure and smiled past the dripping curl that hung in my face. “Hi. Is Derek here?”
 

“Dude. You really know him?”
 

“I’m here, aren’t I?”
 

“I thought he was bullshitting me,” he said.
 

“Is he here?” I asked.
 

His shoulders slumped. “Nah. He’s at Intro to Criminology, I think.” Then he perked up. “I can help you.”
 

“Thanks, but I was looking for an update.” I put my umbrella back up. “Tell him I stopped by.”
 

Darn that Derek. Any normal student would’ve taken one look at the downpour and said screw it, but not my guy. He had to be good and go out in this deluge. I’d have to find the one person who might know exactly what happened to Faith Farrell on my own. I wasn’t leaving Tulane until I found Anne Marie Murphy.
 

Chapter Twenty

ANNE MARIE WAS a girl after my own heart. I found her in her dorm room, wearing pajamas, not going anywhere. She knew who I was and, after a moment’s consideration, she asked me in and offered me a mug of Swiss Miss she made in her mini dorm microwave.
 

I accepted and sat on her new roommate’s bed, blowing on my steaming mug and watching her fuss around to avoid talking.
 

“This isn’t going to hurt,” I said after she rearranged her books for the third time.
 

Anne Marie pulled her shoulder-length curly hair back into a big barrette and plopped onto her bed, resigned to talking at last. “I know.” Her heart-shaped face tried to look glum, but couldn’t manage the expression. She was just too adorable with pale Irish skin and a sprinkling of freckles below her green eyes. Her face was made to be happy.
 

“You know why I’m here?” I asked.
 

“About Faith.”
 

“About the rape specifically, yes.”
 

“Why do you care?”
 

I sipped my cocoa, allowing her to stew for a moment. “I shouldn’t care if a rape was brushed under the rug?”
 

Anne Marie tucked her legs under her bottom. “Of course, you should.” She was not convincing at all.
 

“I really came here about Christopher Berry.”
 

She’d been about to reach for the books again, but her hand stopped in mid-gesture. “What about Christopher?”

“You heard about his father’s murder?”
 

“Everybody has. I haven’t seen him, though. I heard he was still in St. Louis,” she said, now very attentive.
 

“He is.” I ran down what happened to his brother and sister.

She shook her head. “I didn’t know about that.”
 

“It’s not common knowledge. In any case, the trail brought me to you,” I said.
 

“Me? I didn’t have anything to do with any bacteria.”
 

“Not you exactly. You because you knew Faith and it doesn’t look like anybody else did or wanted to.”
 

Anne Marie grimaced. “Yeah…well…Faith wasn’t real popular, but I liked her.” She paused. “Sort of. You don’t think Faith did something to Chris’s brother and sister.”
 

“It’s a lead. I have to follow it.” I took a drink of the watery mixture. Too bad Aaron wasn’t there. He would run out and come back with amazing hot chocolate in order to educate her in the ways of awesome. On second thought, maybe it was better that I was alone. First of all, I didn’t want to talk about rape or sex of any kind in front of Aaron. Second, if Anne Marie was happy with Swiss Miss she was really better off that way. I craved the good stuff all the time to the point where I dreamt about it and woke up drooling. It wasn’t pretty.
 

“What do you want to know?” asked Anne Marie.
 

“Tell me about Faith. Could she have come up with the plan to poison those kids?”
 

“Sure. She’s smart as in straight As without study grouping.”
 

“Do you think she would to do?”
 

“No. Faith was sweet. She wouldn’t hurt kids.”
 

“Even after what happened with Christopher?” I asked.
 

She sighed. “I don’t really know what happened.”
 

Anne Marie was hesitant to say anything about Faith. She did like her or, rather, she wanted to like her. “She was just very young, you know. I thought we were going to get along great. We did on paper.”
 

“But?”
 

“But she had no clue about real life. She acted more like she was in middle school than college. It made everybody think she was weird and I guess she was. I don’t know how to explain it. She was just really, really young.”
 

“Not much experience with guys.”
 

Anne Marie shook her head. “Zero. I don’t think she’d ever been on a real date. She had dates for Homecoming and Prom, but I think they were arranged by her dad. Their parents worked in the same company or something. She never had a second date with anybody. She was real close with her dad, though. They talked every day. I mean, seriously, I like my dad, but not that much. He was always checking up on her and he knew where she was, like he was tracking her. If she didn’t answer her phone, he’d call me. Like I was supposed to watch her or something. Totally weird.”

“Did you know that she lives over in the Garden District?”
 

“She told me. She said she wanted to go away to college, but her dad said she wasn’t ready.”
 

“Sounds like he was right,” I said.
 

“Yeah, I guess. But how is she supposed to grow up with him calling her all the time?”
 

“Good question. He probably thought he was doing the right thing. My dad always does.”
 

Anne Marie laughed. “Mine, too, but he has no clue.”
 

“Faith’s dad had a clue. He went with her to report the rape,” I said.
 

“He’s the reason she went at all.” She crossed her arms.

I finished my cocoa and rolled the cup between my palms. “Tell me what happened. I suspect you’re the only one who knows. Christopher’s mom hasn’t found out about this yet. I’d like to clear him before she does if that’s possible.”
 

“He didn’t do it.” Anne Marie told me in a straightforward manner that spoke of the absolute truth. Faith was crazy about Christopher. They hooked up a few times, but she couldn’t play it cool. She called and texted him constantly, found reasons to be waiting outside his classes, and told everyone that they were going out. They weren’t, not in any traditional sense anyway. Christopher liked Faith well enough, but he got sick of her and stopped answering his phone sometime in early October.
 

The revelations embarrassed me for Faith. I went through a phase like that. But I was thirteen at the time, not a college freshman.
 

“How long did she keep it up?” I asked.
 

“Oh my god. Forever. Like November. It was so embarrassing. She would go into people’s rooms and talk about him and ask them what she should do. I told her it was over, but she didn’t understand. She thought if she could talk to him, he would understand how much she liked him.”
 

“Probably not helpful.”
 

“I felt sorry for her, but get a clue.”
 

“When was the rape supposed to have happened?” I asked.
 

“Her dad said it happened in early September.”
 

September? Her dad said?

I watched her closely. “Her dad told you, not Faith?”
 

“Yep. It was her dad. I never got to talk to Faith about it. He was always there after they went to the campus cops.”
 

 
“So it happened in September, but she was still into Christopher through October?” I asked.
 

“Yeah. Who texts their rapists?”
 

No victim I’ve encountered.
 

“Did Faith tell her dad that she was raped in September?”
 

“No, I don’t think so. Everything was fine until right before Christmas break. She woke up and her bed was full of blood. I think she had a miscarriage. I wanted to call an ambulance, but she made me call her dad instead. He came and took her away. She was gone for three days. When she came back, they’d already been to the cops. She was hysterical. I had to call our RA to calm her down. We packed up her stuff and I never saw her again. I tried calling, but her phone’s disconnected. Then I got called into campus security and I told them what I just told you.”
 

“You told them about the miscarriage?”
 

Anne Marie fiddled with her blanket. “No. I should’ve.”
 

“Why didn’t you?”
 

“The cop was sure Chris didn’t do anything, so I thought it would be okay,” she said, her pretty eyes growing moist.
 

“If you were so worried about Christopher, why didn’t you tell Wellow everything you knew?” I tried not to get irritated and failed. Tell the truth. How about that? Everyone tell the truth and save me some time.