by Robin James
34
I didn’t make it home until well after midnight. I had met Sam at headquarters as they processed Graham Sutter. They’d picked the kid up blitzed out of his mind, trying to leave town before the cavalry showed up. The media broke news of Doyle Harvey’s death. They swarmed the Sheriff’s Department. Sam worried it wasn’t safe for me to head straight home in case they followed me. So, he had me dropped off in an unmarked car. Will was already asleep. I crawled into bed beside him and neither of us woke until almost ten the next morning.
Kat was downstairs making pancakes and bacon. I saw no good reason to object when she offered to move in until the trial ended. I’d left a trail of broken promises in my wake about making it home by six.
“It’s almost over,” she said, flipping a perfectly executed Mickey Mouse cake on Will’s plate. He had one at Disney when he was five and had been nuts for them ever since.
Will was quiet. As of this morning, the Small-Town Killers podcast had entered the top ten for most downloaded true crime shows in the country. He knew about Graham Harvey.
I helped Kat clean up the dishes as Will disappeared into the den. He had science homework he insisted he didn’t need help on. At noon, he had a video call scheduled with Jason.
“He’s been listening,” I said to Kat over the running water.
“Yep,” she said. “Mara, I don’t know how to keep any of it from him. I think it’s worse if I try.”
“Yeah,” I said.
She slid a plate into the drying rack and turned to me. “He’s not worried about the Sutters or the Harveys, Mara. He’s worried about you. He’s afraid no matter what happens in that trial, that one side or the other is going to try to take it out on you.”
“I know,” I said.
“Mara,” Kat said. “I’m worried about you. You’re barely eating. You’re not sleeping. Have you stepped on a scale lately?”
The question caught me off guard.
“I ... no,” I said. “Kat, it’s almost over. This time next week the jury will have this case. Then maybe we can get back to normal. I just ... thank you. My life just wouldn’t work if you weren’t here. I feel like you’re the one constant in Will’s life. You could have bailed on me. Jason’s your brother.”
“Stop,” Kat said, raising a hand. “We’re family, Mara. I love my brother. I’d like to brain him half the time. But I love Will more. Just don’t tell either one of them. And I love you too. I’m where I want to be.”
“Are you sure? Because I know Jason’s offered to move you to D.C. I know he’s still offering.”
Kat went quiet. She didn’t know I knew. Well, in truth, I didn’t know for a fact. But I knew it was exactly the kind of thing Jason would have done.
“I’m staying put for now.” She smiled. “Besides, you’re not the only reason I have to stay in Waynetown.”
I caught a blush in her cheeks.
“Oh, really?” I said, drying the last of the dishes. “You wanna tell me about it?”
“Maybe later,” she said. “It’s new. She’s …”
“Is it the girl from the coffee shop?” I asked.
“No,” Kat said. “Ugh, that’s so cliche. We met through a friend.”
“Does she have a name?” I teased.
“Bree,” she said. “And that’s all I’ll say. Don’t dig.”
“Oh, I’ll dig,” I said. “With a big ol’ shovel. I have no life outside of Will and work, remember? I need something exciting to talk about.”
Kat rolled her eyes and stepped around me.
We had an uneventful day after that. Will lit up, talking to Jason. They made plans for the holiday break. I got Will Christmas Eve, then he and Kat were flying to D.C. after Christmas morning. He’d spend New Year’s out there and come back the Saturday before school started.
Later, Will asked for sliders. There was only one place in town to go for them. Kat came along and I begged her to invite this Bree.
“If she can leave work early enough,” Kat said.
“So what does she do?” I pried. “That she’s working past dinner on a Saturday?”
“You’re worse than your mother,” Kat said as we pulled into the Blue Pony. We had reservations at six.
“How dare you!” I feigned indignation. Will ran ahead of us. He liked the pinball machines and wanted to play while we waited for our food.
We asked for a table in the center of the restaurant. All the booths were taken. I saw the back of a familiar head at the bar. Sam sat nursing a beer. There was a woman sitting beside him I didn’t recognize. She laughed at something he said. He saw me come in and his eyes lit up. I waved as Kat and I made our way to the table. Will was already in the game room with a stack of quarters in his pocket. I sat on the side of the table so I could keep my eye on him.
“Looks like he’ll be busy for a while,” I said to Kat.
“So,” she said. “What about Christmas?”
“What about it?” I said.
“Well, Will and I will be in D.C. with Jason. Your mother usually heads down to Palm Springs. So, where will you be?”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I do worry,” she said.
“I’ll be fine,” I reassured her. “I’m spending Christmas Eve with my son and part of Christmas morning. That’s all I need.”
Kat shook her head. “In that big house all by yourself. What about New Year’s Eve?”
“I’ll figure it out, Kat. Promise. Don’t worry about me.”
“Hmm,” she said.
We ordered our burgers. Kat got a glass of wine. I stuck with water. The dinner rush poured in. I heard Will let out a gleeful shout as he worked the knobs on the pinball machine. The thing was old and Magnum P.I. themed, the original version.
“You ought to get one of those things in the rec room,” Kat said.
“Just what I need.” I laughed. “You really want that noise all evening?”
“Good point.”
A commotion drew my attention to the bar. A group of men started shouting at Sam, recognizing him. He rose and said something to the woman sitting with him. Her face fell.
“Trouble?” Kat asked.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I answered. The shouting drew Will’s attention. He’d run out of quarters. He turned away from the pinball machine and made his way over to Kat and me. “Food will be here in a few minutes,” I told him. I’d ordered him a lemonade with a curly straw. He climbed into his seat and took a sip.
“That’s Detective Cruz,” he said.
“It is,” I answered.
“They’re trying to say he didn’t pursue enough leads with the Sutter family,” Will said, louder than I cared. It drew a few looks our way.
“Shh.” I put a finger to my lips. “Never mind what kind of gossip you hear, Will. Detective Cruz is very good at his job.”
He was also off duty. I looked around the bar. Two other off-duty deputies sat at one of the high tops. They noticed the group of men harassing Sam and left their seats.
“Maybe we should get our sliders to go?” Kat asked.
“I’m not done playing!” Will protested.
“It’s okay,” I said. Thankfully, it looked like the men were backing down.
“I think that’s Denny Harvey,” Kat said as the server brought our tray of food. “He’s a cousin or second cousin of Mickey’s. Ed’s nephew’s kid, I think.”
“They’re everywhere,” I said, taking a bite of my burger. “I never realized how deeply Harveys and Sutters were embedded in this town.”
“I go to school with Sierra Harvey,” Will added. “Mickey’s her cousin too. She says he thinks he did it. She says her mom calls him a douchebag.”
“Will!” Kat and I spoke together.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just reporting the facts.”
The group moved off. Sam caught my eye above the crowd. He gave me a wink. I waved back. He turned to talk to his date.
“Is tha
t his girlfriend?” Will asked.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said, dipping my fries in ketchup.
“Because he keeps looking at you,” he said. “Ms. Digby, my speech therapist, says it’s rude to pay attention to someone else when someone’s talking to you. You’re supposed to keep looking at the person who’s talking to you. I bet that girl thinks he’s being rude.”
Kat giggled over her fries. I narrowed my eyes at her. Will wolfed down four sliders, then started attacking his French fries.
A little while later, Paula Dudley, the owner of the Blue Pony, came out from behind the bar. Backed by two bouncers, she politely asked the group of Harveys to leave.
I braced myself, waiting for one of them to protest. I read lips well enough to see one call Paula something nasty. But all four of them rose together and headed for the front of the bar.
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Will proclaimed and popped out of his seat.
“Oh no, you don’t. I’ll go with you,” I said. No way I was letting him out of my sight with Sutters and Harveys and tempers swirling around.
“Gross, Mom,” he said.
“I mean, I’ll wait outside for you.”
I had a bad feeling. The restrooms were toward the front of the restaurant where I couldn’t see Will coming and going.
“Be right back,” I said to Kat.
We weaved our way through the tables, toward the game room and the front of the restaurant. They were small, one-stall restrooms, and the door was locked when we went there. I tried the woman’s door. It was open.
“No way,” Will said. “I’m not going in there.”
I opened my mouth to argue but saw the better of it. The look on my son’s face told me I’d be wasting my breath.
So we waited. The noise from the pinball machine drew Will’s eyes.
“Nice moves!” Will exclaimed as he watched a teenage boy work the levers. Shaking my head, I couldn’t believe Kat actually thought having one of those things off my living room was a good idea. Beside it, the Pac-Man machine lit up and thumped away as a new player took the controls.
The door opened and Will scooted into the men’s room. The Pac-Man player ran into a spot of bad luck and the lilting, electronic sound of failure reached my ear. I could barely hear myself think.
I could barely hear myself think.
I turned toward the bar. From this short hallway, I could see half of it. Sam’s back was to me. He leaned in to hear whatever his date was saying. He shook his head, unable. She put a hand on his shoulder to repeat herself.
The pinball machine lit up as the teenage player hit the jackpot.
It’s all I could hear. I felt the blood rush from my head and settle somewhere south of my knees.
It’s all I could hear.
And now, I could barely bring myself to breathe.
“What’s wrong, Mom?” Will said. He had to shout it.
Sam caught my eye. His eyes narrowed in question. He would ask me if I was okay, just like Will had.
My answer to both of them would be no. I was very much not okay.
35
“Kat,” I said, taking two twenty-dollar bills out of my purse. “Can you take Will home?”
After finishing his sliders, he’d gone back to play pinball. If we let him, he’d be occupied for hours.
“Of course,” I said. “But how are you going to get home?”
“I’ll worry about that later,” I said. “There’s something I need to do.”
It wasn’t quite judgment in Kat’s eyes, but deep concern. I knew what she thought. It wasn’t like me to bail on my son. I would make it up to him. If he knew my reason why, Will would tell me to go. I was as sure of that as anything else.
Kat knew me well enough not to press me further. I said goodbye and weaved my way back to the bar. Sam sat alone now, his companion having gone to the restroom herself or something.
“Sam,” I said. “I need you.”
His eyes widened and the hint of a smirk settled on his face. “Well, I …”
“He’s lying,” I said. “Jody Doehler’s been lying.”
“What now?” Sam said, sliding off his bar stool.
“You questioned him. We both did. He said he was waiting in line at the bathrooms. That’s when he heard Mickey threaten to kill Skylar Sutter. Twice he testified he heard Mickey tell her he’d put her in the ground. Only he couldn’t have. You can’t hear anything over there except video games and pinball machines.”
“Mara, what are you talking about?”
“See ... or rather, hear for yourself.”
I tugged on Sam’s sleeve and had him walk with me to the restrooms. He nodded to the bartender, gesturing for his check.
I pulled harder.
“I’m coming,” Sam said. “Mercy, woman. What’s gotten into you?”
I got him to the short hallway leading to the restrooms. The electronic pulse of the Pac-Man machine ramped up beside us. Underneath that, someone had just started shooting ducks on the hunter’s arcade game of it.
“Stay here,” I said. I walked over to the bar and sat at the end where Jody said he saw Skylar and Mickey. I picked the stool closest to the bathroom hallway.
I turned to Sam, cupped my hand on one side of my mouth and shouted. “Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.”
The guy sitting next to me turned and, reasonably, looked at me as if I’d sprouted horns.
“Up above the world so bright?” I said. He shook his head and turned back to his beer.
I walked back to Sam.
“Could you hear me?” I asked him. “What did I say?”
Sam’s expression wasn’t much different from the guy at the bar.
“You don’t know, do you? Admit it.”
Sam put his hands up in surrender. “No. I couldn’t hear what you were saying.”
“I was practically shouting,” I said. In fact, I had to do almost that for Sam to hear me as we were standing right next to each other. He leaned in so he could hear me.
“Come here,” I said. I tugged on his sleeve and he followed me out of the bar and into the parking lot.
My ears were still ringing from the noise.
“He’s lying,” I said again. “There is no way Jody Doehler could have heard what he said he did. Not here. Not in that bathroom line.”
“Mara,” Sam said. “It’s busy in there tonight. How do you know whether anyone was playing in the game room?”
“It was a Sunday night,” I said. “And when have you ever been to the Pony when it wasn’t just as loud as that? Plus, that was the April Fool’s bash. Dollar pitchers. It was probably twice as packed as tonight. And we just had to come outside to have a normal conversation. Jody was particular in what he said. Both when you interviewed him and when he testified. But it’s a lie. He just flat out couldn’t have heard Mickey threaten Skylar like that.”
Sam gritted his teeth. “It doesn’t mean …”
“No,” I said. “I know. It doesn’t prove Mickey didn’t kill Skylar. I believe he did. But I think we need to talk to Jody Doehler again. Now.”
“This isn’t up to you,” he said. “Jody was cross-examined. Well, I might add. I was in that courtroom, Mara. Elise Weaver’s already blown some holes in his credibility. Mickey’s guilt doesn’t hinge on Jody’s story. Plus, it wasn’t just Jody’s story. Chad Carmichael and Sarah Bosch said they saw an altercation between them too. The same exact night, Mara.”
“I don’t know. I’m not saying it all makes sense. But I can’t ignore this, Sam,” I said. “I have a duty. So do you.”
Exasperated, he shook his head. “What exactly are you proposing we do? You wanna call Elise Weaver and tell her how to win her case? She doesn’t need your help. She’s got Judge Denholm helping her out enough.”
“Tell me you think I’m wrong,” I said.
He took a step back and looked at the stars as if they could talk some sense into me.
�
�Say it,” I said. “Go back in there and see what you can hear. Put yourself in Jody’s position. Think about it. Chad and Sarah never said they saw Jody here. We all just assumed he was telling the truth. Something’s wrong. I feel it. Sam, who came to you first with the story about the Blue Pony? Chad and Sarah or Jody?”
He reared back. “Chad called me. I’d have to look at my notes, but I think Jody called me the next day.”
“Something’s not right. Could he have known? Could Jody have known about Chad and Sarah’s statement somehow? Then he just backed it up because he thought it would help? Sam, please. Go in there. Tell me what you hear.”
I swear, steam started coming out of Sam’s nose. He paced in front of me. I held my ground. Raising my finger, I pointed to the front doors.
“Fine,” Sam finally said, storming off toward the entrance.
I waited. It was freezing. I’d left my coat on the rack near our table. A minute passed. Then another. It took almost fifteen before Sam came back out.
A car pulled up beside me. An Uber driver. Shivering, I went back into the bar. The door flew open and Sam’s date came charging out, her expression reading red murder. She climbed into the back of the car.
Sam followed her a few seconds later.
“Oh,” I said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …”
Sam waved toward the driver. His date responded with a middle finger as the car turned and headed toward the street.
“Yikes,’ I said. “I really am sorry. She seems ... um ... she seems nice.”
Sam waved it off. “Don’t get me started.”
“Well?” I said.
“Well what?” Sam grumbled.
“Well, what do you think?”
He scowled. In the dim light with his dark hair and features, he looked downright devilish.
“Son of a ... I think you’re right. I think Jody Doehler is full of it. He couldn’t hear a thing in there if he was at the Blue Pony that night at all.”
I had ... feelings. I couldn’t really sort out whether it was relief or dread. Both, actually.
