by Gregg Olsen
Birdy and Kendall sat in Kendall’s car in the parking lot in front of Desert Enchantment to debrief.
“I didn’t see that coming,” Kendall said. “At least not that easily. She just spilled her guts out.”
“It’s a lot to hold inside,” Birdy said. “She’s been carrying that around like a cancer and she just wants to get away from all the ugliness that her mother foisted on her and her brother.”
“Can you imagine having a mother like that?”
Birdy didn’t answer. She did have a mother a little like that. Not as bad, but one who was immensely cruel.
“In some ways, I’m not completely stunned by what she said,” Birdy said. “What she said makes perfect sense. The autopsy showed no food in his stomach, but Jennifer said she’d fed him French toast and orange marmalade.”
The windows started to fog and Kendall turned on the defroster.
“The timeline matches what Molly said too,” Kendall said.
“The liver temp was a little off too, not so much that I’d have red flagged it. Rigor hadn’t occurred yet either. That takes anywhere from two to four hours. I remember that he’d stiffened up considerably during the autopsy.”
“Unusual?” Kendall asked.
“Nothing’s really unusual,” Birdy went on. “There are always reasons for variance in nature. Outside of cicadas every seventeen years in the Northeast and the swallows in March in Capistrano, the rhythm can be erratic.”
“I feel sorry for her,” Kendall said.
“I do too. My mom was bad, but not like hers.”
“She knows about your mother.”
Birdy opened the car door and looked toward her Prius. “I guess that surprised me more than anything,” she said. “Elan will have some explaining to do.”
CHAPTER 34
The turnout for Theodore Allen Roberts’s delayed-for-too-many-reasons-to-list memorial service at St. Gabriel’s in Port Orchard was red, white, and blue. None of the forty-two-year-old’s immediate family was in attendance—his wife, of course, was in jail. His stepchildren were absent at the request of their mother who was concerned about the media bashing that had started to follow her. Ted’s sister, Megan Casper from Boise, was there as were Molly O’Rourke and elderly neighbors Lena and Sam. The coffin was draped in an enormous flag. After the ceremony two of Ted’s friends from the navy folded it into a triangle and handed it to Megan.
A newly hired reporter for the Kitsap Sun waited for Megan and Molly outside the chapel. He was looking for a short comment from someone close to Ted that he could use as proof to his editor that he’d showed up to cover the service.
He asked the dumbest question that anyone covering a funeral or memorial service could ask. And he got an earful.
“How do you feel about everything that’s happened?”
Megan, a silver-haired woman in her late forties, let him have it.
“How do I feel? That my brother married a ‘black widow’? That he was murdered? How do I feel about that?”
The reporter’s face turned apple red. “Yeah, sorry.”
“Fine,” Ted’s sister said. “I’m feeling a million things right now. I’m not a liar. My brother and I were not close and I didn’t have the . . . let’s say opportunity to meet Jennifer. I came to settle a few things with his estate, but the whole trip has been a complete bust.”
The young reporter was embarrassed, but he knew enough to ask a follow-up question. He’d only had this job for a month and he didn’t want to lose it.
“What’s going on with his estate?” he asked.
She glared at him while Molly O’Rourke stood there, not sure what to say.
“How old are you?” Megan asked.
The reporter switched on an eager-beaver attitude. “Twenty-three next month,” he said.
Megan waved her finger at him. “First of all, never say what your age is next month,” she said. “It makes you sound like a four-year-old saying you’re ‘four and a half.’ ”
He blinked. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You can quote me on that,” she said.
He wrote that down in his notebook.
“What about the estate though?” he asked.
While mourners, mostly navy men and women, filed past and acknowledged her with sympathetic looks, Megan clutched the flag.
“That’s the story you should be working on,” she said.
The kid thanked her. “I’ll get on it,” he said.
Ted’s sister turned to Molly, who was standing there with her jaw wide open.
“Nice to meet you, Molly. I’m glad you got to know my brother. I never did. He had issues. We all do.”
She watched the reporter get in what she was sure was a hand-me-down car from his parents.
“I’m glad I live in Idaho,” she said. “We don’t put up with this kind of bullshit.”
The next day, Birdy Waterman unfurled her rolled-up newspaper. There had been suspicious activity at the submarine base in Bangor, up in the northern part of the county. Neither the paper, nor the base spokeswoman, indicated that it was a terrorist threat, but everything like that seemed to be.
At the bottom of the front page, her eyes were seared by a headline:
BLACK WIDOW ROBERTS SET TO CASH IN
She read and dialed Kendall at the same time.
“Did you see the paper?” Birdy asked.
“Huh? No,” Kendall said. “I haven’t even made it to the office. Steven has a job interview. I’m driving him to the airport.”
Ordinarily Birdy would have asked all about that. But not now. She didn’t even tell Kendall to wish him well.
“Listen to this,” she said.
“ ‘An investigation by the Sun has revealed that Jennifer Roberts, who is being held for the murder of her husband, might indirectly reap more than one million dollars—even if convicted of the crime.’ ”
Kendall piped up. “That can’t be true.”
“Let me finish,” Birdy said, now skimming. “Says that Jennifer filed insurance claims the morning her husband died. Says there are three ‘known’ policies each worth between two hundred and fifty and three hundred and thirty grand.”
“I thought there were only two,” the detective said. “A third is a bonus, but doesn’t change our case.”
“Right, Kendall, but here’s what’s so fascinating. The article says that Jennifer is the primary beneficiary and in the event that she is unable to claim the money her children will get the cash.”
“But he didn’t adopt them,” Kendall said.
“Doesn’t matter. His estate passes to her, hers passes to them. Listen to this quote from Ted Roberts’s sister Megan Casper.
“ ‘I think it is a travesty that someone could marry someone just to kill them and have their children get the insurance money. I mean, really? Any woman or man for that matter who wants to send their kid to college just has to kill their spouse. This is all right? This is America. Makes me sick.’ ”
“It makes me sick too,” Kendall said.
“You may need to pull over to throw up,” Birdy said.
“What now?”
“Listen to this quote from Ruby Lake.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“Good guess,” Birdy said, deadpan.
“ ‘When reached at her home in Port Orchard last night Ruby Lake said that she was not testifying against her mother despite rumors that had been circulating around members of law enforcement.
“ ‘ “I said some things to the detectives and they took it the wrong way. My mom is not going to prison for something she didn’t do.” ’ ”
“Just wow,” Kendall said.
Birdy agreed completely. “Yeah.”
“I’m heading over to the school to see Ruby,” Kendall said.
“Where are you now?” asked Birdy.
“Just got off the Narrows Bridge.”
“You might pass her coming the other way,” Birdy said. “Here’s the c
losing line of the article.
“ ‘Lake, 18, says she’s returning to Arizona to stay with family until her mother’s trial this fall.
“ ‘ “I don’t want to be harassed anymore,” she said.’ ”
“Birdy, you’re going to have to try to catch her before she leaves. See why she’s flip-flopped on us.”
“Shouldn’t a deputy do that?” Birdy asked. “Maybe Gary?”
The last encounter with Ruby in the dryer room had made things a little personal when Ruby invoked knowledge of Birdy’s relationship with her mother. Birdy would have preferred not to see her again. Mostly because she knew the girl was right. Birdy didn’t have her own house in order and she knew it. Her relationships with her mother and sister were messed up.
“We don’t have time for that. You know the case better than anyone. Certainly better than Gary.”
“He’s a very good deputy, Kendall.”
“I didn’t say he wasn’t. But he’s not you. I’m counting on you. We’re a team on this case, remember?”
Birdy couldn’t argue against that. That was the whole crux of their working together—improving relations between the departments.
“I’ll go,” she said without much enthusiasm. “I guess I have to, but this team work is wearing me out. I have an old man in the chiller waiting for me. Tell Steven good luck. I forgot to ask. Where’s the interview?”
“Portland,” Kendall said.
Birdy didn’t like that at all. “You won’t be moving there, will you?”
“No,” Kendall said. “That’s the hiring office. You’re stuck with me. Steven says hi back. Bye.”
CHAPTER 35
Micah Lake sat on the front steps of 511 Camellia Street. He wore dark jeans and a dark blue hoody zipped to his throat. He looked like a tough guy, but Birdy knew he wasn’t that at all. He was quiet, artistic, and had a disarming smile—though he didn’t use it that often. The air had chilled a little since the previous day and the sky threatened a good rainstorm with a bank of clouds coming in from the south.
“She’s in the house, Dr. Waterman,” he said. “If you’re looking for my sister. Packing. Like a rat deserting a sinking ship.”
Birdy stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Aren’t you supposed to be at school now?”
The teenager was annoyed by the question. His life had unraveled and school didn’t seem to be part of his priorities just then.
“I know,” he said, “but with Ruby leaving and all, she told me to get my butt over here to load up Ted’s car. So here I am missing history class, which I guess is better than missing something I actually like.”
“How’s it going living here with Ruby?” Birdy asked. “You’ve been through a lot.”
He fumbled for a pack of cigarettes, but she ignored that he was about to smoke.
“It’s okay,” he said.
Birdy thought he was a nice kid. He just had the misfortune of being born to the kind of mother that usually eats her young.
“Upstairs?” she asked, as the first drops of rain splatted hard and heavy on the front steps.
“Yeah, first door on the right. The one with all the crap on the bed.” He reached for a finally found cigarette and she managed to give him a scolding look.
“At this point, what does it matter?” he asked.
“Not now,” she said. “Later, yes, it will. Did your mom let you smoke?”
“No,” he said, lighting up.
“Then you shouldn’t be doing it now.”
Micah blew a perfect smoke ring. “My mom’s a killer. Who cares what she thinks? My sister’s leaving. My life sucks now. I hope I get cancer.”
“You don’t,” Birdy said. “Trust me. I’ve seen enough of it in my office. You don’t.”
“Whatever,” he said. “Sorry. Thanks.”
She smiled faintly at him, feeling every bit of the sorrow of a boy who was now without a father, a mother, a sister who was about to do exactly what he said.
Jump from a sinking ship.
Birdy went inside looking for Ruby. Before heading up the stairs, she scanned the main living area. Ruby and Micah were not good housekeepers that was for sure. The place was in dire need of a crew of Merry Maids to pick up the soda cans, Chinese takeout boxes, and other remnants of a home without one bit of parental supervision even though it had been only a few days since their mom’s arrest. Jennifer’s daughter might be almost eighteen but she was no adult.
Birdy found the teenager stacking her belongings on the bed. She was extremely organized in that endeavor—all clothing was stacked by color and folded with the exactness of a Gap sales clerk working the floor.
Ruby looked up with her impossibly blue eyes, the best attribute her mother could have given her. The only thing about her that seemed pure and uncorrupted. “What do you want now?”
It was no welcome, but Birdy Waterman really didn’t expect that either. Kendall should be there doing this. Her job was to look into the cause of someone’s death, not shore up an investigation that didn’t need shoring up. She decided that sympathy could only get her so far. A little directness was in order.
“I want to know why you’ve decided to be a liar,” she asked.
Ruby stared hard at her. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“But you do,” Birdy said, lingering in the doorway. “You made a promise to me and to Detective Stark that you’d tell the truth. You told us everything that had been going on here. We don’t need your testimony to secure a conviction, but you don’t need to live your life feeling like you helped your mom kill your stepfather.”
Ruby looked down at what she was doing. “I’m not listening to a word you say,” she said, opening a suitcase and moving the pinks and whites into separate compartments.
“You will listen to me,” Birdy said, moving closer. “I know that you are better than your mother.”
Ruby stopped. “Are you trying to make me laugh or cry, Dr. Waterman? Go back to the morgue and play with a stiff one.”
“Okay, that’s just tacky. Is that who you are?”
Birdy pondered saying, “Is that the trailer park of your mom’s past coming out in you?” but she thought better of that. Trailer park people were people of lesser means, they weren’t rotten people.
“I am getting out of town,” Ruby said. “That’s what I’m doing. I’m going to lay low because—and you will never understand this—because I’m afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” Birdy asked. “Telling the truth?”
Ruby stopped arranging the pinks. “I’m afraid of my mother. I’m terrified of her. She’s capable of anything.”
“We know that,” Birdy said. “I’m glad you know that. That’s why you need to testify against her.”
“I want to live. I don’t want to die.”
“She can’t hurt you.”
Ruby moved some things aside and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“You honestly don’t know what she’s capable of, do you?”
“Murder. Yes, I know that.”
“My mother,” she said, hesitating. “She would kill me for a pair of Manolos if she thought she could get away with it.”
Birdy let silence fill the air, hoping it would prompt the girl to say more. And she did.
“Dr. Waterman, I’m scared.”
For such a tough, self-absorbed girl, it was remarkable to Birdy. Ruby actually looked scared.
“What happened?” Birdy asked.
Ruby swallowed hard. “I saw her. I went to see her yesterday. You see, I still love her.”
“Of course,” Birdy said, “she’s your mother. I understand that. You’re almost eighteen now. She’s in jail. She can’t get to you.”
Ruby got up and paced. “She threatened me. She begged me. She told me that if she went to the gas chamber she’d haunt me for the rest of my life.”
“I told you. We don’t have the gas chamber here.”
“Gallows, whatever. The point is if my mom goes t
o prison she’ll find a way to reach for me with her sharp fingernails. She’ll do it. I saw her hold Ted’s mouth open and pour poison down his throat. You can’t tell me that she wouldn’t seek revenge.”
Birdy couldn’t. No one could. After what Brenda Nevins had set in motion, it was possible that Jennifer Roberts could do something too. The unthinkable, the unimaginable, had already happened. Revenge from a prison cell seemed all too real.
“I hope you change your mind, Ruby. I know you’re strong enough to stand on your own two feet.”
“You can’t promise that the police will be able to protect me. Can you?”
Birdy knew there were no guarantees and she didn’t want to lie to the girl.
“No,” she said, “no one can.”
While Ruby turned back to her packing, Birdy stood in the door watching. She looked over at the bedroom where Ted had taken his last gasp, the master bedroom where Jennifer had set her trap, and finally Micah’s room. She looked inside each space. They were little tableaus to the things that had transpired there. The king-size bed in the master bedroom with its sand-colored sheets and a comforter of dark blue, like the edge of an ocean that had swept two lovers away. Ruby’s room had pictures of the desert and a shelf of books and stuffed animals, that twilight time between girlhood and adulthood. The guestroom was plain, sterile, a place to wait to die. And Micah’s room was a lot like Elan’s makeover of her guestroom—a desk of electronics, an empty popcorn bag, and some artwork that he’d created at school.
Micah was gone when Birdy went outside. She looked around, but he was nowhere to be seen.
She dialed Kendall and filled her in on what Ruby had said. Kendall was on her way back from the airport after sending Steven off to an interview in hopes of a job offer the family needed so much.
Birdy drove up to her office. When she walked in, Kendall had returned; she was on the phone.
“Hey, just wanted you to know that Ruby saw her mother in the jail,” the detective said.
“She mentioned that,” Birdy said. “Her mom threatened her.”
