An Eye for an Eye

by Caroline Fardig

  I shook my head. “Wyatt, you seem like a nice guy. What in the world did you do to get eighteen months in here?”

  He bowed his head. “I broke into the video game store I used to work at and stole some money and some merch. See, I got my girlfriend pregnant, and…she kept needing all this stuff to get ready for the baby. She wasn’t working, and I couldn’t afford all the extra stuff, so…I took the easy way out.” Sighing, he muttered, “I’ll never make that mistake again. I didn’t get to be there when my little boy was born.”

  I made a mental note to track down Wyatt’s girlfriend and send some of Nate’s outgrown clothes and toys her way. Rachel could easily have found herself in a similar situation, but at least her loser baby daddy had done her the favor of dumping her at the first mention of the word “pregnancy.” Thinking about my sister took my head out of the game momentarily, but I managed to pull my focus back to our interview.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Wyatt. One more thing: can you think of anyone Justin would turn to for help? If he needed a place to live or something like that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess either that first family or Courtney. Maybe Tyrone, but probably not. He was older, so he didn’t pay much attention to us. But that was years ago, and I’m sure there were other foster families after that, right?”

  “Not exactly. Justin ran away from the family he was placed with after the Greens. We assume he was on his own after that.”

  “Whoa. I would not have survived all by myself as a teenager.”

  “Justin Fox is proving to be rather resourceful,” Baxter griped.

  ***

  I was off in my own little world on the drive to Linda Beasley’s home. I’d let that errant thought about Rachel get in while we were at the jail, and I couldn’t seem to shake the worry I had in my gut. If Justin Fox had lashed out so horribly toward Wyatt—a guy who was practically a brother to him, and one of his only friends in the world—what might he do to Rachel in the time he was holding her? He seemed to be obsessed with fire. Would he go through with his threat to burn her? Or would he abuse her in other ways?

  “Where’s your head right now?”

  I turned to Baxter. “Nowhere it should be.”

  “I have to hand it to you, Ellie. All I’ve seen out of you today has been game face. Last night, too, once we started the investigation. I don’t know how you’re doing it, but keep it up.”

  “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

  He smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. New topic. You want to be the bad cop at our next interview?”

  I chuckled. “No, thank you.” I looked at the info sheet we had on Linda Beasley. “Why would you assume that a fifty-seven-year-old grandmother would need someone to go bad cop on her ass?”

  “You heard what Lamar Sanders said this morning. She’s mean, and he had to fire her. What if I’m too much of a gentleman to go up against her? You might need to save me with some of your trailer park sass.”

  My jaw dropped. “Hey! It’s okay for me to make fun of my white trash roots, but it’s not cool when you do it.”

  He was fighting a grin. “Pretend she’s a reporter trying to get a story out of you. That ought to get your more colorful vocabulary flowing. You know, like that video of you on the Ashmore Voice video blog.”

  “Tell me you did not watch that video.”

  “Only a couple dozen times. I didn’t know you could string that many cuss words together and still form a coherent sentence.”

  I shook my head, not really minding the needling. I knew exactly what he was doing, and I appreciated it. “What can I say? I have a gift.”

  We pulled up to Linda Beasley’s residence, which was a condo in one of those fifty-five and older complexes. I took her a moment to answer the door after I knocked. When she opened the door and saw me, her mouth twisted into an instant frown. But when she looked past me and laid eyes on Baxter, her demeanor changed instantly.

  “Well, hello there,” she drawled, smiling wide.

  I thought I saw her actually bat her eyes at him. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep a straight face.

  “Hello, Mrs. Beasley. I’m Detective Baxter and this is Ms. Matthews. We’re with the Hamilton County Sheriff’s office, and we’d like to ask you a few questions about a former coworker of yours, Leann Fox.”

  “It’s Ms. Beasley, Detective. I’m not married,” she replied, giving him a wink. “Please come in.”

  “I could wait in the car if you want to run point on this one,” I murmured to Baxter as we followed her inside.

  “Oh, hell no. You are not leaving me alone with this horny cougar,” he hissed back.

  In her defense, Linda Beasley looked good for fifty-seven. She was in great shape and could easily have passed for late forties. But the fact remained that she was old enough to be Baxter’s mom.

  She sat on her sofa and patted the seat next to her for Baxter sit down. I snagged a nearby chair before he could get to it, so he had no choice but to sit with her. He shot me some daggers, but sat where he was instructed.

  “Ms. Beasley, you worked with Leann Fox at PXT Corporation for a few years, correct?” Baxter asked.

  She shrugged. “Sure. Until she died.” Linda Beasley didn’t seem terribly sorry about Leann’s passing.

  “Did you know her well outside of work?”

  “No. Didn’t care to.” She leaned toward him. “Detective, can I get you some coffee?”

  He scooted a few inches away from her. “Oh, no thanks. I’m good.”

  She leaned closer. “A soft drink, maybe?”

  “No, thank you. Back to Mrs. Fox—do you remember if anyone at work had any disagreements with her before she died?”

  Linda rolled her eyes. “No, of course not. She was the Golden Girl. Everyone loved Leann.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Was there something not to like about her?”

  “She was cheating on her husband, for one.”

  I sat forward in my chair. “You know that for a fact? Did you see something?”

  Frowning at me, she said, “Why are you coming around asking about Leann all of a sudden? Does this have to do with her weird kid killing those women? Following in his father’s footsteps, that one.”

  Ignoring her question, I replied, “Could you tell me about why you think she was cheating on her husband?”

  She crossed her arms. “Are you a detective? He didn’t introduce you as a detective.”

  I had best leave the questioning to Baxter, because it was fast becoming apparent I was going to get nowhere with her.

  Baxter said, “My partner is a criminalist working with me on the case.”

  Linda’s frown turned into a beady glare as she kept me in her sights. “Your partner. Professional or otherwise?”

  “Strictly professional,” I said.

  She relaxed and pasted on a smile, leaning again toward Baxter. “You want to know if goody-two-shoes Leann had a lover?”

  “Yes. A name, too, if you have one,” he said. I could tell he was tiring of her games.

  Putting her lips near his ear, she whispered, “Richard Kendrick.”

  He jerked back from her. “Do you have proof of that?”

  “Not concrete proof. But the two of them were always deep in conversation and going to lunch alone together. He gave her special treatment once he was our supervisor. You could tell they were doing it by the way they looked at each other.” She gave Baxter a smoldering glance. “You know how it is, Detective.”

  “So you’re saying you have no actual proof of their affair,” he said, his disgust barely veiled.

  “No, but…it was pretty clear when her crazy husband came barreling into the office and started going off about Richard coming onto Leann at work and stalking her.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “Leann threw herself at Richard, so if it was anyone’s fault, it was hers.”

  Baxter stood, and I could tell he was ready to get out of here.

  I re
garded Linda Beasley for a moment. “Did you ever see Leann use a cellphone?”

  “Yes, and on company time, too. A couple of times I overheard her making plans to meet someone, and it wasn’t one of her girlfriends, if you know what I mean.”

  “So she was making plans to meet a man on her personal cell. You said there was no question in your mind that she was having an affair with Richard Kendrick. Why use a phone to talk to the guy instead of walking a few feet to his cubicle to speak to him face-to-face? That doesn’t track.”

  Linda’s face fell, and she started backpedalling. “Oh, well…well, maybe the little hussy was juggling more than one boyfriend.”

  Baxter said between gritted teeth, “I think we’re done here.”

  He took off for the door, Linda trailing behind him. “Detective, are you sure you don’t have any more questions for me? We could meet again at another time—”

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

  Fighting to keep a straight face, I followed him out the door, throwing a “thanks for your time” at Linda over my shoulder.

  Once we got in his SUV, he shuddered. “I feel dirty now.”

  I burst out laughing. “Yeah, but it was priceless watching it.”

  His only response was to glare at me.

  I sobered up and said, “It was also helpful in a roundabout way. If what Linda was saying about Leann’s phone conversations was accurate, it means that she was not in fact having an affair with Richard Kendrick. Or at least not only with him. There’s another guy out there somewhere.”

  “Let’s hope Leann’s best friend has some idea of who he is.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mariella Vasquez was another one of the character witnesses who spoke against Samuel Fox at the trial. She’d also called in one of the Foxes’ domestic disturbance incidents when Samuel had refused to let Leann leave the house. We had to meet Mariella at her work, and she only had a few minutes to speak to us on her break. We met her at the back door of the local Dollar General store.

  After we introduced ourselves, Baxter asked, “How long had you been friends with Leann Fox?”

  “I knew Leann from way back in high school. Back before she met that dick Samuel,” Mariella said, sneering.

  “Was their relationship always like it was near the end?” Baxter asked.

  “No, not at all. If you can believe it, he was a real catch back in the day. College grad, good job, handsome. He was even nice to me and her other friends, which is usually a sure sign a guy’s a keeper. They made the cutest couple, and then when Justin came along, they were the perfect little family.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “That was, until she lost the baby.”

  I tensed. “Baby? You knew she was pregnant?” I shot a look at Baxter, who seemed equally surprised by this news.

  She smiled slightly. “Well, sure, she told her closest friends, but she hadn’t broadcast it or told her work yet. She was like three months along.”

  At three months, Leann Fox’s belly would have begun to swell. And while it would have been easy enough to hide under baggy clothes, there was no way a coroner would have missed it—unless it was a pregnancy prior to the possible one at the time of her death. Mariella had said they were the perfect family until Leann lost the baby.

  “When was this?” I asked.

  “Um…a year, maybe two before she died. They were both in a dark place afterward. Samuel never recovered from it. Then when he lost his job and started drinking…” She shook her head. “That was it. Their marriage was over, but Leann refused to give up on it. She wanted things to go back to how they were before, and she wouldn’t listen to reason. I begged her to leave him, but she wouldn’t. She said the old Samuel was still in there somewhere, and if she stayed with him, he’d eventually come around.” Mariella lit a cigarette and took a long drag from it.

  It was sad to hear that the heartbreaking loss of a baby was what had paved the path for their marriage to implode and the abuse to start. “Is that why you changed your story after placing a domestic disturbance call to the police two weeks before Leann died? Did she put you up to it to keep the peace?”

  Frowning, she replied, “Leann asked me nicely to say I blew things out of proportion. Samuel, not so much. He said if I didn’t tell the police it was all a misunderstanding, he’d beat up Leann and then come after me.”

  Baxter shook his head. “So you think he was the one who killed her?”

  “I do. He’d turned into a monster.”

  “Near the end, when things were so bad between them, did Leann ever tell you that she’d turned to someone else for comfort?” I asked.

  “Like another man?”

  “Yes. We’re thinking she was seeing someone else.”

  She let out a sigh. “She was, but…I don’t think she would have told me about it if I hadn’t guessed. She was suddenly happy again, and I knew it had nothing to do with Samuel. When I called her on it, she was horrified that I’d figured out her secret. She said she felt so guilty about cheating, but that she needed it. It had been over a year since she and Samuel had sex.” Mariella shrugged. “I told her to go for it and not be ashamed, but she said she still loved her husband and wanted their marriage to work. She made me promise not to tell a soul. I haven’t until now. Her secret can’t hurt anyone at this point, right?”

  I had begun trembling inside while she spoke. This could be exactly what we needed. “What was his name?”

  “She wouldn’t tell because he was married, too. And don’t think I didn’t try to get it out of her.”

  I felt myself deflating. I didn’t know how much closer we could get to Leann Fox than her best friend. If she didn’t know, then the secret had died with Leann.

  Baxter asked, “Did it not occur to you to tell the police she had a secret lover? He might have been the one who killed her. Maybe she told him she was going back to her husband and he got violent.”

  Shaking her head, Mariella said, “No way. She said this guy was a prince. They both knew their relationship wasn’t supposed to last forever, which was why I think she even agreed to it in the first place. It was just a fling, and they both knew it.”

  Baxter shot a glance at me. “Do you know if she was pregnant at the time of her death?”

  “Pregnant? That would be news to me.” Mariella thought for a moment as she puffed out a plume of smoke. “Although…she did mention the day before she died that she thought she had something that would fix their relationship for sure this time. I was hoping it was a divorce, or at the very least some anger management for Samuel. She said she wanted to tell him before she told me, but then…” She wiped away another tear.

  I asked, “How close were you with Justin? Have you had any contact with him since Leann died?”

  She shook her head. “I tried to get social services to let me look in on him now and again, but I was told the foster families wouldn’t allow it. I don’t know if that was a line to make me quit harassing them or what. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the kid until I saw his picture on TV this week. Wouldn’t have known him if they hadn’t given his name. But when I took a closer look, I noticed he has those same big eyes he always had.” She chuckled. “One look from him, and Leann was putty in his hands. She loved that kid.” Pausing for another drag, her face twisted into a frown. “It’s a shame he’s so screwed up now. Leann would roll over in her grave.”

  Baxter nodded. “I know you have to get back to work, so we’ll wrap this up. What do you know about Leann having a cellphone?”

  Mariella smiled and flicked her cigarette butt onto the ground. “Her boyfriend gave it to her so they could plan their little romantic trysts. I know you have your suspicions about him, but trust me, he was good for her.”

  I stood there, speechless.

  Luckily, Baxter kept his head. “You’ve given us a lot to think about, Mrs. Vasquez. We appreciate you meeting with us.”

  Once she’d gone back inside, Baxter said, “Holy shit.
The boyfriend gave her the phone? No wonder they never found it. Because he took it after he killed her.”

  “Yes, absolutely. Also, if Leann and Samuel supposedly had zero sex in the year before she died, who tied her up buck naked the day her boss alerted the police after she was late to work?”

  “Are you thinking it was the boyfriend instead, so she lied to the cops?”

  “It kind of had to be if what Mariella said is true. Leann could have made up the whole story. Maybe her husband left for the day and she dropped her kid at school. Then her boyfriend booty calls her, she blows off work, he comes over, and they lose track of time. If they got interrupted by the cops knocking on the door, maybe he ran for it so no one would find out about their affair.”

  “Unless her husband was enough of an asshole to tie her up for no apparent reason.”

  “That’s still a valid point.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I can’t believe we’re so close, but we have no name. Anyone who could have told us definitively who the boyfriend was is dead. This sucks.” I kicked a plastic bottle that had been tossed on the ground.

  Baxter placed a hand on my shoulder. “We’ll find him. Maybe Manetti’s DNA results will be all we need.”

  “If and only if the guy is in CODIS, which is a serious long shot.” I heaved out a sigh. “I think at this point our best option is to forget this case and work on finding Justin Fox before the deadline.”

  “Okay. If you want to switch our focus to trying to find someone who knows his whereabouts, I’m all in. We can start on that list of foster families and go ask around at the businesses listed in his employment record. I want to end this son of a bitch as much as you do, and it makes no difference to me how we do it.”

  ***

  We drove over to meet Courtney Kapinski at her workplace in Carmel. She was a server at one of the nicer restaurants in the Carmel City Center. The restaurant was all but deserted in the mid-afternoon, so she was able to show us to a table in the posh bar and sit down with us.

  Although normally it would have been a chill place to be, I was anything but calm. I’d become increasingly anxious and shaky on the drive over, and I was afraid I knew the cause. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since I’d had my last drink, and as much as I hated to admit it to myself, I’d been drinking daily for the better part of three months. I’d not taken even a sip since last night, wanting to stay clear-headed for this case, but I was becoming more frightened of what might happen if I didn’t keep at least a little alcohol in my system. I couldn’t go into full withdrawal and do what I needed to do in the next forty-eight hours.