Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery) (7 page)

Either Wendy had been a well-behaved child who spent her teenage years being a goody-two-shoes, or she was a naïve parent. Somehow I suspected the latter. And since the neighbors had seen one of the sons leave his father’s house earlier in the day, I knew Wendy’s belief or insistence—whichever it was—was incorrect.

“Both boys were there when I got home around four,” Wendy insisted. “My oldest boy, Jacob, went to a friend’s house for dinner later, but other than that and the movies, he was home.”

“The friend’s name?” Richmond asked, his pen poised.

“Sean Fitzpatrick,” Wendy said, looking annoyed.

“And what time was he there?”

“From four-thirty until around eight, I think.”

Richmond wrote down the information, set his pen aside, and folded his hands on the table in front of him. “Mrs. Ames, I need to talk to your boys to verify their timelines, and I’d prefer to do it individually.”

Wendy gave him a
whatever
shrug, nodded, and blew her nose. “And I’d prefer to do it alone,” Richmond added when she was done honking.

Wendy gave him a puzzled look. “You mean without me here?”

“Yes.”

“Why? You’re not going to tell them about Blake, are you?”

“No, but I do need them to tell me where they were today, and where you were, since they are part of your alibi. And I don’t want them to have a chance to conspire and fabricate something.”

“My boys wouldn’t fabricate anything,” Wendy snapped. “They have no need to.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem if I talk to them,” Richmond said. “As I mentioned before, the sooner we can rule out the innocent people, the quicker we can get on to the real killer.”

Wendy took half a minute or so to consider the request. I could see her mentally weighing the pros and cons. Finally she said, “You can talk to them individually, but I insist on being in here with them.”

Richmond gave her a half-hearted shrug of acceptance, then tossed out his own ultimatum. “That’s fine as long as you stay here while I have each of them brought in, and you remain quiet while I talk to them.”

Again Wendy took her time answering, and when she did, she leaned across the table and pointed a finger at Richmond. “I can live with that as long as I don’t think you’re asking them things you shouldn’t be. But if I hear something I don’t like, I’ll stop you dead in your tracks.”

I arched my brows at her choice of clichés, and she saw my reaction. A few seconds later she realized why. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, it’s just a saying!” she snapped. “You people . . .” She left the rest of her opinion hanging, and I spent the time it took Richmond to fetch the first of the Ames boys filling in the blanks.

R
ichmond brought the younger boy, Michael, in first. He had his father’s wispy blond hair, but his mother’s dark, almond eyes and slight build. Derrick Ames had been of average height—around five-ten or so—but with thick, tree-trunk legs and a broad chest. His son Michael, on the other hand, was short and skinny with a narrow, slightly concave chest and stick legs that looked lost inside the baggy, knee-length shorts he was wearing.

“Have a seat right there beside your mom,” Richmond said, directing the boy with his hand. At first I was surprised by this, thinking it would be better to put some distance between mother and son, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized how smart Richmond’s seating arrangement was. With his mother nearby, the boy would feel more comfortable and willing to talk. And with the two of them sitting side by side, it would be impossible for Wendy to give her son any looks or mouth any words to him that we might not see. It did allow for some under-the-table hand or foot stuff, but at the moment Wendy had both of her hands on top of the table, shredding the last tissue she had ripped from the box.

Michael looked sad, and I could tell he’d been crying. I felt for the kid, and hoped Richmond would be gentle and tactful with him. I hadn’t interviewed a child with Richmond yet, so I had no idea how he would handle it.

“Hi, Michael,” Richmond said, settling into his seat. “My name is Bob, and this is Mattie. We’re trying to figure out who hurt your dad. I’m so sorry about what happened to him. You must be very sad.”

Tears welled in Michael’s eyes, and as he nodded, one of them coursed down a cheek that I saw was still covered with down. It stirred something deep in my gut, and oddly enough, it also made my boobs ache. I pushed aside my curiosity over these sensations for later contemplation, assuming they were probably related to my pregnancy.

“Are you cops?” Michael asked, sniffling.

“I am,” Richmond said. “Mattie works with . . . with the coroner’s office.”

Michael looked at me with a curious expression. “What’s a corner office do?”

“Not corner, coroner,” I corrected gently. “We help the police when someone dies by figuring out how it happened and whether or not a crime has been committed.”

Michael frowned at that. “Is that because someone killed my dad?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said, giving him a sympathetic look. “And I’m so very sorry that that happened. I know you must be very sad right now, but it’s important that we find out who might have wanted to hurt your dad.”

Michael’s tears welled again, and as he nodded they rolled down his cheeks and fell into his lap.

Richmond continued in a soft, friendly voice. “We have to ask you some questions about where you, your mom, and your brother were today. It might sound like we think you had something to do with what happened to your dad, but the main reason we need to ask these questions is so we can figure out where everyone was when your dad was hurt. It helps us to focus on the right people. Does that make sense to you?”

Michael nodded again, staring at his hands in his lap. His mother grabbed a used tissue and reached over to try to wipe his nose, but Michael shied away from her and swiped his nose with his arm.

“Can you tell me how you spent your day today?” Richmond asked. “Start around lunchtime.”

“Mom took us to the movies for lunch.”

“What movie did you see?”

Michael named the same movie his mother had.

“Did you like it?” Bob asked.

Michael nodded.

“What did you do after the movie?”

“We came home. I played some video games, and Jacob went to his room.”

“Was Jacob home with you all afternoon?”

Michael’s eyes shifted toward his mother for a second and then, just as quickly, back to his lap. He reached up and started pulling at a lock of hair at his nape. “Yes,” he said, but he wouldn’t look at us when he answered, and I felt certain he was lying.

Even his mother shot him a look, her brows drawn together with worry. “Michael? Did Jacob go out somewhere this afternoon while I was at Donna’s?”

Michael looked at her again but quickly averted his gaze. He squirmed in his chair. “He was there. We both were home all afternoon. Nobody went anywhere.” His answers came out rapid-fire, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as us.

Richmond leaned across the table and stared at the boy, who refused to look at anyone. “Michael, you know how important it is to tell the truth, right?”

Michael nodded, still staring at his lap.

“Was your brother really with you all afternoon?”

Michael didn’t answer, and after a long period of silence, Wendy said, “Michael David Ames, you need to tell the truth. Did Jacob leave the house today while I was gone?”

Tears flowed down Michael’s cheeks, and my boobs were practically throbbing.
What the hell?

“Michael!” Wendy yelled. “Tell the truth!”

“Jacob’s gonna get mad at me. He told me not to tell.”

“Tell what?” Richmond pushed.

“He went out this afternoon for a little while. He climbs out his bedroom window all the time. He doesn’t think I know it, but I do, and I knew he was gone because I went to his bedroom to see if he wanted to play Mario Brothers with me and he was gone. When he came back, he came out and pretended he’d been in there the whole time, but I told him I knew he’d gone out. He got really mad and went back in his bedroom and slammed the door.”

Wendy leaned back in her seat and squeezed her eyes closed. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. Then she sat up and looked at Richmond. “Derrick was killed this evening, correct?”

Richmond nodded.

“Then it shouldn’t matter where Jacob was this afternoon.” Wendy said, looking relieved. Her reprieve didn’t last long.

“Though it does show his propensity to lie to you,” Richmond said.

He gave her a moment to digest this, and after a few seconds, Wendy’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward with that fierce mother-bear-protecting-her-cub look that moms seem to come by naturally. “We’re done talking until I can consult with a lawyer,” she said, trying to sound stern, though I heard a definite quaver in her voice.

Richmond sighed and leaned back in his chair. Michael started sobbing, his shoulders shaking, while I struggled to resist an urge I had to massage my aching boobs.

Wendy stood abruptly, yanked Michael out of his chair, and dragged him toward the door. She exited the room and steered a tearful Michael down the hall into the break room, where Jacob was waiting with Officer Brenda Joiner. “Let’s go,” Wendy said to the older boy, her lips and voice tight.

Jacob Ames was a big boy, with his father’s sturdy build and height but his mother’s dark hair and eyes. As we entered the room, he looked from one person to the next, his expression one of surprise initially, then suspicion. “What happened?” he asked, settling his gaze on his mother.

“I said let’s go,” Wendy repeated.

Jacob shifted his attention to Michael, and his eyes narrowed. “You squealed, didn’t you, you little weasel.”

Michael hiccupped a sob and stuttered, “I’m . . . s-s-sorry . . . J-jake.”

Jacob walked over and cuffed Michael behind the ear. “You stupid little brat! I should have known better than to trust you.”

“Shut up, both of you!” Wendy snapped. “And move it, Jacob!”

I watched Jacob shuffle his way toward the hall. His stonewashed jeans were baggy and long on him, the backs of his hems worn and frayed from being stepped on and dragged along the ground. They swished with every step he took, marking the group’s progress down the hallway, through the door to the front public area, and out the front door.

Richmond, Stephanie, and I watched as Wendy herded the two boys across the parking lot and into her car, nearly getting hit by a sporty little convertible that was pulling in. As soon as the two boys were settled in the backseat of Wendy’s car, Jacob punched Michael in the arm, Michael shoved back, and seconds later the two of them were going at it, wrestling and punching one another in the backseat while Wendy screamed at them loud enough for us to hear her inside the police station.

Richmond turned to me and said, “That went well,” in a sarcastic tone. Then he stomped from the front area into the back hallway.

I followed him into the break room, where Brenda Joiner was still sitting at the table where she’d been with Jacob. “I take it things didn’t go so well?” she said with a questioning look.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Richmond grumbled. “I don’t suppose the kid said anything to you that might be helpful?”

“Afraid not,” Brenda said with an apologetic shrug. “But then, I didn’t ask him anything related to the crime. I didn’t want to jeopardize any formal statement he might make.”

Richmond huffed his frustration.

“If you don’t need anything else from me, do you mind if I split?” Brenda asked.

“That’s fine,” Richmond said. “Thanks for babysitting.”

“No problem.” With that, Brenda got up and exited out the back door to the rear parking lot where all the squad cars are parked.

Richmond turned and looked at me with a frown. “Well, at least we know the older kid has a habit of sneaking out of his house. But the time we know he did it doesn’t help us. We’ll have to verify his alibi for later on, see if he was actually at this friend’s house when he said he was.”

Stephanie came back, wearing her headset. “That Terwilliger woman you told me to call just got here.”

“Send her on back,” Richmond said.

As Stephanie went to fetch Mandy, Richmond turned to me and said, “This ought to be interesting. Let’s see if we can find out why Ms. Terwilliger felt it necessary to lie to us.”

M
andy Terwilliger’s eyes were bloodshot and redrimmed, and her short, white-blond hair was all spiky, as if she’d been running her hands through it. She looked frail and wounded, though it might have been her diminutive size that gave that impression, particularly since she hadn’t come alone. Walking beside her, dressed in slacks and a blouse rather than a bathrobe, was Rose Carpenter, Derrick’s neighbor. As the two women strolled down the hallway toward us, Stephanie hollered to Richmond.

“Sorry, I tried to get the other woman to wait up here, but they insisted on coming back there together.”

Richmond dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand and then shifted his attention to Mandy. “I have no interest in talking to your friend,” he said.

Rose pouted, and I noticed she’d put on some makeup since we last saw her: mascara, eye shadow, blush, and a sexy red shade of lipstick. I bit back a smile, certain that the makeup had been applied for Richmond’s benefit. Lest I had any doubts, Rose’s flirtatious eye flutters and coquettish posturing confirmed my thinking. Unfortunately, I don’t think Richmond was aware of it. Mandy said, “She’s not here to talk, she’s here to provide me with moral support.”

Richmond frowned and looked over at Rose, who broke into a broad smile. Richmond quickly averted his gaze back to Mandy. “Some of the questions I need to ask you are intimate, private ones,” he said. He then looked back at Rose. “You need to go wait in the lobby area.”

“And if I don’t?” Rose said, straightening up and looking ready for a fight.

“If you don’t, I’ll find something to charge you with and have you arrested,” Richmond shot back irritably. I suspected it was an empty threat, but it was also a wasted one.

Rather than looking intimidated, Rose looked intrigued. “Would you have to handcuff me?” she asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

“I might,” Richmond said gruffly, and once again I had to bite back a smile because it was obvious he was clueless about Rose’s sexual innuendo.

Rose looked over at Mandy and said, “I’ll wait out front for you.”

Mandy nodded, and as soon as Rose was back in the lobby area, we led Mandy into the conference room, where Richmond directed her to sit across from us.

As soon as we were settled, Richmond flipped on the audiovisual equipment and recited the date, the time, the case this interview related to, and Mandy’s full name. He then informed Mandy that everything was being recorded. Once Mandy indicated her understanding of the situation, Richmond got right down to business.

“Ms. Ter williger—”

“It’s Mrs. Ter williger.”

Richmond looked surprised. “You’re married?”

“I’m a widow.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Richmond said with an apologetic smile. Mandy smiled back, but her smile disappeared in a blink with Richmond’s next sentence. “
Mrs
. Terwilliger, I’m interested in knowing why you lied to us earlier this evening when we asked you when you had last seen Derrick Ames.”

Mandy blinked several times very fast and squirmed in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Cut the crap,” Richmond said. “Several of the neighbors saw you at Derrick’s house earlier today, around the same time that his son Jacob showed up. Are you saying that isn’t true?”

Mandy swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers. “I was there this afternoon, around two-thirty or so for about thirty minutes.”

“Why did you lie to us earlier?”

“Because I was working delivering flowers, and I’m not supposed to be taking time for anything personal. If my boss finds out, I’ll get fired. And I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s hard enough as it is trying to get by on a part-time salary. My husband died a year and a half ago in a car accident, and while I did get a small settlement from the insurance company, he didn’t have any life insurance. The majority of the settlement money is earmarked for my kids’ college fund, and we’re trying to make a go of it with the rest plus my salary. As it is, we’re barely squeaking by. If I lose my job, I don’t know what will happen.”

I sympathized with her plight, one I feared facing myself.

“If you’re that tight on money, why don’t you get a full-time job?” Richmond asked.

“I’ve thought about it,” she said. “I worked as a bookkeeper full time when I first got married, but right now I need to be there for my kids. They’ve had a hard time of it, losing their father that way, and my youngest, Oliver, has been having some problems . . . acting out, hanging with a bad crowd, that sort of thing. That’s why I’m committed to volunteering at the high school three days a week, so I can keep an eye on him. I’m hoping to return to a full-time job at some point, and I’m keeping my bookkeeping skills up to date by working as treasurer for the PTA and doing some side work for the owner of the florist shop, helping out with the books.”

“You met Derrick at the school?” Richmond asked.

“Sort of,” Mandy said, nodding. “The first time I met him was at a PTA meeting, and after that we crossed paths a few times at the school. We started out with a few friendly waves and hellos in the hall and cafeteria. Things didn’t progress to another level until just a few months ago.”

“Tell me about your visit to his house this afternoon.”

Mandy glanced over at me, and her pale skin turned a fiery red in her cheeks. “I took the van home and parked it in my garage so no one would see it. Then I walked over to Derrick’s for a little, um, afternoon delight,” she said, looking sheepish.

“You had sex,” Richmond said, putting the blunt on it.

Mandy nodded.

“And did Jacob show up while you were there?”

“He did,” she said with a grimace. “We had already. . . you know . . . done it, and we were lying in bed. I said I had to go, kissed Derrick, and mentioned something about getting together for a late dinner tomorrow night. But Derrick was behaving strangely.”

“How so?” Richmond asked.

“He was standoffish all of a sudden, almost cold . . . hesitant about making any future plans. I sensed something was bothering him, and I tried to coax it out of him, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. So I tried a little, um, harder . . . you know what I mean?” she said, her cheeks flushing again. “And then suddenly Jacob was there, standing in the doorway to the bedroom, looking all pissed off.”

“Did Jacob say anything?”

“He did,” Mandy said, frowning. “I don’t recall his exact words, but it was obvious he was upset.”

“And what happened next?”

“Jacob ran off, and Derrick got out of bed, pulled on his jeans, and ran after him. Once they were gone, I got dressed as fast as I could and went downstairs to leave. I heard them in the kitchen arguing, and I knew that my presence there was only going to make things worse, so I left through the front door and walked back to my house. Then I finished my deliveries.”

“Did you overhear any of this argument Jacob and Derrick were having?”

“Some,” she said. “It was about Jacob wanting Derrick and his ex-wife to get back together. The kid’s had a hard time with the divorce, and he’s convinced that Derrick and Wendy can work things out between them.”

“Do you think that’s possible?” Richmond asked. It was a smart question, a fishing expedition to see how much Mandy knew.

Mandy pondered the question for a few seconds and then said, “Does anything I say in here stay private?”

Richmond shrugged. “It depends on whether or not anything you say becomes critical or evidentiary in solving this case. I can’t make any promises. But I will tell you that we’re not in the business of spreading gossip unnecessarily.”

Mandy nodded, looking indecisive for a bit before she made her decision. “From what Derrick has told me, there’s no chance of it,” she said. “Wendy has . . . um . . . how can I put this delicately? She has other leanings.”

“Meaning?” Richmond pushed. I figured he was doing so to keep Mandy unsettled since we knew exactly what Wendy’s other leanings were.

“She’s a lesbian,” Mandy said with a roll of her eyes. “Apparently she now likes women instead of men.”

“I see,” Richmond said, and he scribbled something on the pad in front of him. “Did Derrick have any enemies that you’re aware of?”

Mandy gave it a moment’s thought and then shook her head. “No. Everybody likes him. The students like him. The other teachers like him. As far as I know, all his neighbors like him. I’ve never heard anyone say anything to the contrary.”

“Have you dated any other men since your husband died?”

“God, no.”

“Any other men show an interest in dating you?”

“Sure, there have been a few. A couple of the other male teachers made some overtures a while back, and a friend of my husband’s hinted around a few months ago. But I made it clear I wasn’t interested, and I never went out with any of them.”

“So you don’t think any of them would resent Derrick for succeeding where they failed?”

“No way,” Mandy said, with an adamant shake of her head.

“Just to be sure, can you give me the names of these men?”

Mandy did so.

“Can you recall any of the specific things that were said between Jacob and Derrick during this argument they had?”

Mandy’s brow furrowed in thought. “Jacob was doing most of the talking, or rather yelling,” she said. “He was chastising his father for not trying hard enough to save the marriage. The usual stuff. It’s a recurring theme with Jacob.”

“One final thing,” Richmond posed. “Did Derrick have a cell phone when you saw him today?”

Mandy frowned at this and gave Richmond an odd look. “I suppose so, though, to be honest, I can’t recall seeing it. My attention was focused elsewhere most of the time.”

“Did the two of you talk on the phone much, or message back and forth?”

“We did,” Mandy said. “He texted me sometime after I left his house to say he wanted to see me. I texted him back around six or six-thirty, and when he didn’t answer, I sent him another one an hour later, and again when I was getting off work.” She paused, looked sad, and shook her head. “I knew something was wrong when he didn’t answer me. He’s usually so prompt.”

“Do you still have those text messages on your phone?”

“I do.”

“Would you mind if I took a look?”

Mandy frowned. “I guess,” she said. She reached into her purse and took out her phone. Then she tapped the screen a few times and handed the phone over to Richmond.

I leaned over and read along with him. Derrick sent a text to Mandy just before four o’clock that said
WE NEED TO TALK
. At 6:20 she texted him back:
WANT ME
2
COME BY AFTER WORK
? At 7:31 she texted him again:
WHEN SHOULD I COME BY
? Then at 8:14 she texted him one last time:
IS EVERYTHING OKAY
? That was the end of any exchanges between them.

Richmond handed her back the phone and then looked over at me. “Any questions?”

I shook my head. Richmond turned back to Mandy. “Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Terwilliger,” he said. “If I have any other questions, I’ll be back in touch. But before you leave, would you mind letting us print you?”

“You want my fingerprints? Why?”

“For elimination purposes. Obviously we expect to find your prints in Mr. Ames’s house, given the nature of your relationship with him. We’re looking for prints that don’t belong there, so we need to know whose prints are whose.”

Mandy nodded, and Richmond used the new tablet device the department received a couple of months ago to scan her prints and upload them to a database. Once he was done, Mandy got up and left the room without so much as a good-bye.

“Did her demeanor seem odd to you?” Richmond asked me once Mandy was gone.

“I guess,” I said. “It’s hard to know.”

Richmond cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “You seem a little out of sorts tonight,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded, and then, like the emotionally stable, utterly professional woman I was at the time, I burst into tears.