Busted (7 page)

“Wayne Walker is a lying asshole.” Gloria Pringle stabbed her cigarette out in the ashtray, only to grab up her pack for another. “Hell no, I never dated him. He should be so lucky.” Her hands shook as she lit a new cigarette. “What were you going to do, bust in here and kill us all?”

Amanda used her diplomatic voice. “We were told the men who were holding you hostage were trained mercenaries.”

Gloria laughed out loud. “And you believed that?”

Will let Amanda handle the question. He glanced around the woman’s kitchen, which was decorated in a strawberry theme. Strawberry wallpaper. Strawberry curtains. Strawberry tablecloth. Even the canisters on the countertop were shaped like strawberries.

“I don’t even know why he bothers to go to church,” Gloria said. “Not like he’ll get into heaven.”

Faith came into the kitchen with three surly-looking young adults in tow. “There’s no one else in the house. They all tell the same story. They’ve been here all morning. They have no idea why Wayne Walker would say they were being held hostage.”

“We could sue you,” the girl said.

“For?” Amanda asked.

The girl didn’t have an answer.

Amanda turned to Gloria. “Why would Wayne target you like this?”

No one spoke, but there was a definite air of guilt among the strawberries.

Finally, the litigious girl spoke up. “Terri used to date Connor.”

Will guessed Connor was the young man slumping against the refrigerator. He had the floppy blond hair and boyish good looks of a player.

“I broke up with her,” Connor said. “She wanted to get serious, but I was, like, not with you being gone for a whole year. Oh, hell no.”

Will provided, “Walker said he wanted Terri to know he was thinking about her.”

“Thinking about her?” Gloria trilled. “Sending a SWAT team to my house because my son broke up with his daughter?” She waved her cigarette in the air. “Fucking crazy, that’s what this is! Just crazy!”

“Whatever.” Connor started to leave.

Amanda asked, “Where did you say you were this morning, young man?”

“Here.” He indicated the house. “Me and Sheila was sleeping one off.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Gloria said, as if she would offer up her son otherwise. “I checked on them when I got in from work.”

“When was this?”

“Around eight-thirty this morning. I work the night shift at O’Kelley’s.” She sucked on her cigarette. “They’re a parts supplier off Kennedy Road.”

Will asked, “That’s near Exit 40?” The Lil’ Dixie was off 40.

“Yeah, I just missed all that traffic this morning from the holdup.” Her hand stopped a few inches from her face. The cigarette smoldered. “That was Wayne, wasn’t it? That whole thing this morning.”

Amanda asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because that’s just the kind of asshole stunt he’d pull.”

“You seem to know a lot about him.”

“I got a pair of ears and we go to the same church. He’s probably just as much up in my business as I’m up in his.” She took a hit off the cigarette. “Plus, I dated Wayne’s half brother back in high school. Caused a bit of a stir.” She told her children, “Believe it or not, there was a time when a white woman could get killed for sleeping with a black man.”

“And I’m outta here,” Connor said. He slinked back out of the kitchen with the two girls following close behind.

Will saw the vein in Amanda’s forehead had started to throb. It seemed like she was having trouble speaking. “Wayne Walker has an African American half brother?”

Gloria nodded vigorously. “He lived with his daddy over on the other side of town, but everybody knew.” She played with her lighter, flipping it end over end. “Me and Doug-Ray dated in high school, then he moved to west Georgia to go to college, then he moved back here a couple’a-three years ago. His daddy died recently. I read about it in the paper. I guess I could’ve taken off to go to the funeral, but we’re on time and a half, you know?”

Will couldn’t keep the reluctance out of his voice. “What about Pete McClendon? Do you know him?”

“Pete.” Gloria huffed out some smoke. “There’s a blast from the past. I don’t know how that fool managed to get in uniform. He stole my purse one time when I was over at his aunt’s house. We found it under his bed, bless his heart.”

No one asked the obvious question, but Gloria was on a roll now.

She explained, “Pete is Wayne’s cousin on his mama’s side. Now, as I recall, Miss Mina passed away when Pete was a baby, so Wayne’s Maw-Maw raised him.”

Will got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Maw-Maw?”

“That’s Mrs. Lewis. I’m sure she has a first name, but I can’t remember it.” She jabbed her cigarette toward Amanda. “You run across her, you wanna be careful. That woman’s nothin’ but a spoon. She’s always stirring up shit.”

Amanda pressed her fingers to her temples. “Samantha Lewis is Wayne Walker’s mother?”

“And Doug-Ray’s.” Gloria laughed out some more smoke. “Which was hilarious, because if you’ve ever talked to her for even a second, you know she’s racist as hell.”

“Yes,” Will said. “We’ve talked to her.”

“It’s not just blacks.” Gloria wasn’t finished. “She found out one’a the teachers at Wayne’s school was a lesbian and had her run out on a rail. And it takes a
lot
to get fired from the Clayton County school system.”

Faith shook her head, like she needed to clear it. “Where does Billie Lam fit into all of this?”

“That piece of trash?” Gloria stubbed her cigarette out by the others. “Like I said, I haven’t talked to any of them in years, but I hear she followed Doug-Ray up here when Wayne got him a job at the school.”

Amanda made it clear. “Billie followed Doug-Ray back to Forest Park, not the other way around?”

“What she wanted to do up here is beyond me. Same trailer, different park.” Gloria lit another cigarette. “Why are y’all looking at me funny?”

“Billie isn’t Maw-Maw’s granddaughter?”

She sputtered out smoke as she laughed. “Oh, hell no. Maw-Maw woulda drowned a girl before she raised her. You think she hates men? You should see what she does to women. I’m not sure why she talked Gilbert into hiring Billie to work at the store, but mark my word, Maw-Maw was working an angle. Don’t let her fool you. She’s a crafty old bitch.”

Will noted an absence of saliva in his mouth.

Faith said, “Gilbert Caldwell is Maw-Maw’s son, not his son-in-law?”

“By a different daddy from Wayne and Doug-Ray. Never married none of them, of course.” She pursed her lips. “My mama used to say Samantha Lewis had a rocking chair for an ass.”

Faith asked, “Did she have any more children?”

“Just the three boys, God bless their souls. And Pete, though like I said, he was her sister’s kid.”

Amanda pushed herself up from the table. She rarely showed her years, but today was an exception. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Pringle. We’ll follow up if we have any more questions. In the meantime, if you hear where Billie might be, we would appreciate a phone call.”

“No problem. You’ll be the first to know.” Gloria walked them toward the door. There was a look of concentration on her face. In Will’s experience, the best details always came out when an interview was over. Gloria Pringle was no exception.

“What about the house?” she asked, holding open the front door. “Did ya’ll check Doug-Ray’s house?”

“Yes,” Faith answered. “Doug-Ray’s house, Wayne’s apartment, Maw-Maw’s house.”

She didn’t mention that Maw-Maw had given them the slip, but Will could tell from the way’s Amanda’s jaw set as she walked onto the porch that the thought was prominent in her mind.

“What about Arthur’s?” Gloria smiled when they all stopped and turned around. “Arthur Pierce. He was a mailman. Died about three months ago.” Her smile started to falter. “Y’all know Doug-Ray’s daddy left him a house?”

Arthur Pierce had left his son a two-bedroom clapboard house located in a section of Forest Park that bordered Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport. The house wasn’t exactly on the runway, but Will felt the need to hunch his shoulders as a Delta jet came in for a landing.

He walked up the driveway on foot. There was a silver Pontiac Firebird parked in front of the closed garage. Will glanced in as he passed, making sure no one was hiding in the back. He headed toward the front porch. Weeds had grown through the cracked concrete, but Will could tell the house had been well maintained until three months ago when Arthur Pierce passed away. And he had really died, because they’d all seen his death certificate, tax returns, property deeds, and records on his closed pension account.

The day’s events so far had served as an unwelcome reminder of why they taught you at the academy to verify all witness testimony down to the last detail.

Arthur Pierce was without question deceased. They’d talked to the funeral home that buried him and his friends at the VA who’d been there when he clutched his chest and keeled over onto the poker table. By all accounts, the senior Mr. Pierce was a stand-up guy. He’d been a mailman, which explained why his mailbox was painted dark blue with an American flag on each side. The front door was a matching blue. There was another American flag hanging from a column that held up the small shed roof over the door. The material was tattered from the elements, which Will was glad Mr. Pierce did not have to see.

Will had planned to knock, but the front door was cracked open. He used the toe of his boot to push it the rest of the way. He had Faith’s Glock tucked into the back of his pants, but he didn’t pull the weapon. Maybe this wasn’t exactly wise. Every minute of Will’s day had been spent underestimating people.

The house smelled musty and closed up. Doug-Ray hadn’t bothered to clear out his father’s furniture or mementos, but he’d availed himself of all the copper in the house. Plaster had been hammered away in chunks. The ceiling looked like the world’s largest rat had bounced its way across the beams. Pipes, electrical wire – anything that could be sold for scrap had been removed long ago.

Which didn’t explain the coppery smell in the air.

Will felt the hairs on the back of his neck go up. He put his hand on the Glock, but didn’t pull it. There was only one thing he could think of that smelled like copper but wasn’t copper, and that was congealed blood. Something about the iron hitting oxygen brought about the scent. Every cop had a different description for it, but what it boiled down to was the smell of metal that hooked into the back of your throat like a fishing lure.

He walked through the front room as quietly as he could. Broken plaster littered the floor. The carpet was wet and moldy. There was a hole in the roof somewhere. Doug-Ray had probably talked to a real estate agent and realized very quickly that no one would be interested in buying his father’s house. According to the tax records, Arthur Pierce’s home was one of only three in the neighborhood that wasn’t in the process of foreclosure.

Will peered into the two bedrooms and a tiny hall bath before making his way to
the kitchen. Something told him this was where he would find Billie, and he was right. Only, he hadn’t anticipated the state in which she would be found.

She was lying on her back in the kitchen doorway. Her bleached blonde hair flowered around her head. Her arms were out, hands open. Her eyes were deep blue. They were also glassy, most likely because of the large kitchen knife sticking out of her chest.

Will stood over the body. He didn’t bother to bend down and check her pulse. He didn’t want to give Maw-Maw the opportunity to jump him.

The old woman was sitting at the table smoking a joint. She blew on the tip, one eye on Will as he stepped over Billie’s body and entered the kitchen.

“She came at me,” Maw-Maw said, her voice raspy from the smoke. “I thought she was gonna kill me.”

Will looked at the scene. There was some evidence to support a struggle. Kitchen utensils were scattered on the floor. Drawers were open where someone had furiously searched them.

Only, it wasn’t just one or two drawers that were open, but every single drawer in the room. In Will’s lengthy experience with stabbings that occurred in the kitchen, he was hard-pressed to think of a case where someone searching for a knife started with the bottom drawers and worked their way up.

Maw-Maw waved at the chair across from her. “Sit down, sonny. Let’s talk.”

Will reached into his pocket. He took out his iPhone. “I’m going to record this.”

“Suit yourself.”

“As a police officer, I have to inform you that you’re entitled to a lawyer. You
have a right—”

“To remain silent, et cetera, et cetera,” she interrupted. “I’m eighty-four years old. You think I haven’t seen my fair share of
Murder, She Wrote
?”

Will didn’t recall Jessica Fletcher ever making an arrest, but for the sake of the recording, he asked, “You’re waiving your rights, Ms. Lewis?”

“Yes.” She impatiently pointed at the chair. “Now sit.”

Will sat. He put the phone on the table between them. The little needle on the readout bounced back and forth as a jet roared overhead.

Will waited for the noise to fade, then asked, “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Maw-Maw held a lungful of smoke before letting it out. “Poor Billie. She knocked on my kitchen door a while ago. I knew those cops were outside. I tried to get them, but she grabbed me.” She showed Will a mark on her wrist where he had no doubt Billie Lam grabbed the old woman, probably to keep the knife from going deeper into her chest. “She took me out the back and brought me here.”

“That’s her car in the driveway?”

“Gilbert’s,” Maw-Maw provided. “He let her drive it to work. That’s just the sort she was. Give her an inch and she takes a mile.”

“Was Gilbert the third man at the gas station today?”

She gave him a disappointed look. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

Will held out his open hand, indicating she should continue spinning her defense.

“I tried to help that sweet girl. Got her a job at the store. Took her into my home. And then she drags me here. Holds that very knife to my neck and tells me she wants all
my money.” She inhaled deeply. “I don’t know how it happened. I managed to get the knife somehow. I wasn’t going to hurt her. I just held it out in front of me, and she ran toward me, and…” Her voice trailed off. She gave Will a cat’s smile. “Poor little thing. She was so young.”