by Raven Snow
“Has the family of the girl that was killed ever contacted you?” asked Margo.
“Not lately.” Tommy paused as if to try and remember the last time they had. “Jessica and I were already living together when the accident happened. “They gave us a rough time after it first happened. They got their friends and family to kind of shadow us, you know? We couldn’t go anywhere. People were giving us dirty looks at the store. People would leave horrible notes in our mailbox. It felt like the whole town hated my wife and me for staying with her.”
Rowen wanted to say she knew how that was. She knew what it was like to have the whole of Lainswich despise you. She didn’t know what this was like, though. She had never directly been responsible for someone’s death. When Grammy was convicted as a murderer, it had been an old crime. It was a grown man who was killed, not a child. It was different. People reacted to it differently. “There hasn’t been any of that lately?”
Again, Tommy shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed. Things had actually calmed down. Someone egged our house, but that was a couple of months ago. No one has bothered us in a long time. Everything was looking up until… until someone tried to murder her, I guess.”
“Do you know who egged the house?” asked Margo.
“Some teenagers. At least, that’s what my sons said. They said they recognized the truck they were driving and that they went to school with them. One of the kids was the Nielson’s son, I think.”
“Did you press charges?” asked Rowen.
“No, they were just kids acting out. If I reported it, it might end up in the papers, and I didn’t want that to happen again. I didn’t want to remind the town we were still right where we’d always been.” He sighed and looked at Rowen and Margo, resigned. “No avoiding that now, I guess.”
Rowen gave him a quick, sympathetic smile before pressing on. “Do you feel the Nielsons might be responsible for this? For trying to poison your wife, I mean.”
“It seems like the obvious thing, doesn’t it?” Tommy shrugged. “But, I mean, I don’t know. I’m just going to leave it to the police.”
“That’s a good idea.” Rowen didn’t think she would be able to leave everything to the police while her family was being targeted, but it probably wasn’t a good idea to encourage Tommy to look into it on his own. It wasn’t like he could go confront the Nielson family. That would be disastrous. “How long have you been with Jessica?” she asked instead.
“We’ve been together for just about five years now.”
“But you only married last year?”
“Both of us had been married before. Neither of us saw the point in getting married a second time until she got arrested.” Tommy smiled slightly. “She’s a great woman. All of this aside, she’s always been great. She’s funny and smart. She’s great with my sons. I’d dated a lot of women before her. None of them wanted to acknowledge my boys. She was never like that. She’s always shown an interest in their lives.”
“How do they feel about her being in jail?”
“They’re torn up over it. They love her.”
“Do their classmates give them a hard time after what happened?” asked Margo.
Tommy frowned at her. “They don’t resent Jessica, if that’s what you mean.”
Rowen found that hard to believe. Someone who wasn’t even really family barges into your life, causes that sort of tragic scandal, and ruins your family’s reputation? That would be hard to take without some degree of resentment. Rowen didn’t press him on it. Better to leave the kids out of it. She asked routine questions instead. Maybe she could glean something from the answers. Either way, it would help pad out an article.
Jessica had coached softball at a local high school where she had also taught politics. She had been married for eight years but had no children of her own. Her last husband had moved out of state years ago. Her hobbies included archery and scrapbooking. On the weekends, she had helped out around the garage.
All of these little details made the story sadder. By all accounts, Jessica Landis was a nice woman. Granted, her husband had reason to be biased and a tendency to be a bit defensive of her. Rowen needed to talk to the woman herself. “Do you think Jessica would mind if we went to her for an interview?”
Tommy had been leading them to the door. He hesitated now, looking uncertain. “I don’t know. I’d have to talk to her.”
“If you would, we’d appreciate that.”
“We wouldn’t be grilling her with questions or anything,” Margo assured him. “We’re just trying to deal with the facts here. Channel 2 shouldn’t be the only point of view out there.”
“That much I agree with you on.” Tommy looked off into the distance. He gave a sigh. “I’ll bring it up with her the next time we talk. I can’t promise you more than that.”
“I appreciate it.” Rowen nodded to the card in his hand, the one she had given him only moments ago. “You have my number.”
“I’ll tell you what she says.” Tommy pocketed the card and closed the door, making it abundantly clear that he was finished with the conversation.
“That went well, I guess,” Margo said sounding like she didn’t entirely mean it. “So, where to next? The Nielsons?”
“I thought I might call them first. I couldn’t find their number, though.” Rowen glanced down at her phone. It was a Saturday. There was a decent chance they would be at home. “But I guess we can just swing by. That might even give us a better shot at an actual interview. Just make sure you’re respectful.”
“Always.” Margo gave her cousin a reproachful look and headed for the car.
There was a teen waiting for them, standing on the passenger side. It didn’t look like Trevor. This was a different kid. He was tall and wiry, with a head full of dark hair. “You’re looking into whoever tried to kill Jessica, right?”
“We’re reporters. We work for –” Margo began, but Rowen cut her off.
“We are. Are you Tommy’s kid?”
The teen nodded. “Yeah, Terrance. I’m the oldest. Look, it has to be the Nielsons who did this. They have a kid, Billy. He’s a real piece of work.”
“A piece of work how?” asked Margo.
Terrance didn’t mince words. “He’s a jerk. He hassles me and my brother all the time even though it wasn’t our fault. Jessica isn’t even our mom. He just – I hate him. It’s awful what happened to his sister, but he doesn’t need to take it out on us.”
“Why would this kid try to poison your stepmom?” Rowen didn’t see the connection. She hadn’t seen any evidence that the Nielsons were even members of the Sunset Valley congregation.
“Because he hates us!” Terrance said that like it should be obvious. “He tells me all the time that Jessica deserves to die. And I mean, I dunno, maybe she does, but that’s not our fault.”
“Does he have a criminal record that you know of?” asked Rowen. She wanted to give this kid the benefit of the doubt, but the connection still seemed tenuous. Teenagers didn’t often set up elaborate murder plots that stumped the police.
“Not yet. He’s always getting in trouble at school, though.” Terrance seemed to know they weren’t taking what he was saying very seriously. “I’m just saying he’s my best guess. Maybe he paid someone or did it himself or put someone up to it. I don’t know, just… Look into him or don’t. I don’t care.” He jammed his hands in his pockets and strode off before Rowen could say anything else. She started to call after him, but what else was there to say? It still seemed so unlikely. She looked at Margo.
Margo just shrugged. “Come on. Let’s go to the Nielsons. Who knows? Maybe we’ll meet Billy.”
Chapter Ten
The Nielson family did not live in the best neighborhood. Rowen had never actually come out this way before. She had to use the GPS on her phone to navigate the winding roads that cut through the woods they traveled. The trees were dense and the houses were few and far between.
“No wonder someone got hit by a car out
here,” Margo muttered. She looked up when she noticed Rowen looking over at her. “What? You were thinking it.”
She was right. Rowen had been thinking that. More than once now, she had looked at her speedometer and noted that she was going faster than she ought to have. The roads were mostly empty. It was easy to see how someone would drive fast here without thinking and how an unsupervised child could be playing in the street.
Eventually, the GPS told her that her destination was coming up, and Rowen took a right onto a rocky drive. The Nielsons had a lot of land. Unfortunately, it was full of a bunch of clutter. There was a truck on concrete blocks and rusted sheets of metal siding. The closer they got to the house, the denser the junk got. There was a bunch of old stuff for kids. A broken-down jungle gym, a collapsed plastic playhouse, one of those little pint-sized replica kitchens. There were old paint cans and gas canisters and buckets full of scrap.
“Well, this is depressing,” said Margo, again saying what Rowen was thinking. “Suppose it got this way after their daughter died or before?”
“Hard to say.” Rowen wasn’t sure which would be better, honestly. She parked the car, suddenly having second thoughts. This seemed like the sort of place where trespassers got shot.
“You sure about this?” asked Margo.
No, Rowen wasn’t. “Yeah. Come on. Just… watch your step.” She got out of the car and led the way to the front door. The house itself was pretty ramshackle. It looked old. Maybe once it had been a nice place to live, but that was difficult to imagine now. Additions had been built on with cheap, plain wood. The stairs were rotten and some cinder blocks had been strategically stacked to the right of them to use instead. Even the front door was shoddy. It looked like it had been kicked in at some point. There was a big dent next to the door handle.
“Maybe they’re not home.” Margo sounded hopeful.
“Their cars are here.”
“How can you tell?” asked Margo, not sounding like she was waiting for an answer so much as she was commenting on all the junker cars and car parts scattered about.
Rowen ignored her and knocked. At first, she didn’t think anyone was going to answer the door, and part of her was relieved. It didn’t seem like the Nielsons were the sort of people she had imagined them to be.
Eventually, the door opened. A woman with matted brown hair stared out at them, sleepily. She was still wearing a nightgown. “Sorry,” Rowen said quickly. “Did we wake you up?” It was almost one in the afternoon. She had stopped for lunch with Margo before coming here.
“What do you want?” asked the woman, standing up a little straighter but opening the door no further. She looked suspicious and had every right to be. This was an out of the way place to just waltz up and knock on someone’s door.
Margo stepped in before Rowen could respond. “We’re from the Lainswich Inquirer.” She whisked out a card between two fingers and held it out for the woman to take. “We tried to call ahead, but –”
“But we’re unlisted.” The woman took the card. She blinked down at it, like her eyesight was on the poor side. “This about my daughter?”
So, this was Sara Nielson. Margo inched toward the door, even though there wasn’t much she could do to worm her way inside. The lady of the house still had it open only a crack. “In a manner of speaking. There was a murder at the prison recently, maybe you heard about it?”
Sara shrugged. “I guess.”
“We have reason to believe they were trying to murder Jessica Landis.” Margo came right out with it. Rowen rather wished she hadn’t. They probably should have kept that little factoid to themselves. Suddenly, she was worried that she shouldn’t even be here. If Ben hadn’t gotten a chance to question them yet, this could turn into a mess.
Sara’s eyes lit up at that. She stepped back and opened the door wider to allow them in. “Is that so? Well, they need to try harder then, don’t they? Come on. It’s been a while since I sat down for an interview.”
The inside of the house was cleaner than Rowen had expected, but that wasn’t saying much. There was still a whole lot of clutter over everything. It was a lot like the front lawn. Rowen had to watch her step.
“Excuse the mess,” Sara said, not sounding terribly concerned about what they thought either way. She did, however, grab a robe from a coat hanger and shrug that on over her nightgown. “It’s hard to find time to clean up, you know?”
“Absolutely,” said Margo, who was the biggest clean freak Rowen had ever known. She could only imagine her cousin was screaming internally right about now.
Sara led the way into what looked like it must be the den. Every surface was covered in stacked newspapers and magazines. The sofa wasn’t a mess, but someone was lounging on it watching television. Sara gave the sofa a kick. “Watch television in your room. We have guests.”
A teen rolled over on the sofa. This must have been Billy. He did look like a bit of a troublemaker. He sure didn’t look like he was going to listen to his mother.
“Go on,” she said more firmly this time.
Billy went, but he made a show of going very slowly. Sara gave Rowen and Margo an apologetic look like this was unusual. The house was usually clean and her son was usually a saint, sure. Rowen smiled to indicate she wasn’t going to judge her for any of that. She sat down when Sara motioned for her to do so. Margo hesitated but eventually did the same after a meaningful tug from Rowen.
Sara shoved some heavy books from a chair and sat there. “I got a visit from the police early this morning. Much too early if you ask me. I was trying to catch up on my sleep when you two came knocking.”
“Sorry.” Rowen apologized a second time. Though, at least now she knew the police had gotten to them first. There was that, at least. Ben had probably paid them a visit first thing in the morning because he was afraid one of the Greensmiths would get to them first. “We really didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Sara shook her head. “Oh, it’s fine. I should have guessed reporters would be on their way next. Guess I really will have to buckle down and clean up around here. It’s just me and the boys. My husband and Billy leave such a mess.”
At least Sara seemed receptive to the idea of interviews. They must have experienced this before. “Well, like I was saying, we work for the Lainswich Inquirer. I don’t think we ever did a proper interview with you before now, but we did write some articles on your loss, which – I’m just so sorry you had to go through that. I can’t imagine.” Margo nodded as if to add her sentiments.
Sara’s expression grew a bit more solemn. “Thank you. It was – is a tragedy. I’m sure I have your article somewhere. I took clippings of all the articles.” She looked around as if it might be handy amidst all the clutter. It wasn’t, of course.
“Do you mind if I record?” Rowen asked.
“Go right ahead.” Sara looked quite at ease with the idea of being interviewed.
“Where’s your husband?” asked Margo while Rowen set up the recorder.
“Out with friends.” Sara didn’t sound completely certain of that. “He spends a lot of time away from the house these days. I don’t really blame him, to be honest. This place is full of memories, and not necessarily in a good way, you know?”
“Have you ever thought of moving out?”
“Sure, but… this is our home. Plus, I don’t like the idea of moving into some apartment or something. Don’t think we could afford to get a different house right now.”
“How’s your son holding up?” asked Margo, changing the subject slightly.
“Oh, he’s great. He was real torn up right after it happened, but he’s tough. He’s a good boy.” Sara seemed to be throwing out some generic praise for that one. Rowen got the impression that she wasn’t all that involved in Billy’s life. “We’re all taking it one day at a time. We’re getting by.”
“I guess that’s all you can do,” Rowen said, even though she didn’t really know. How could she? “I hate to ask, but could you, ah… in
your own words…”
“Tell you what happened the day that woman killed my baby?” asked Sara, not even flinching. “Of course I can. I’ve told it so many times to so many different people, I’m pretty numb to the story to be honest with you.”
Rowen was no expert on whether that was healthy or not. She made sure that the recorder was going anyway and angled it toward her. “Whenever you’re ready.”
“It was a Tuesday afternoon. Stephanie rode the bus home with her brother like she always did.” Sara glanced in the direction her son had gone. She took a deep breath and lowered her voice. “I was fixing dinner. Stephanie played outside a lot. She was always an active child, you know? I bet you she would have found herself a sport if she had made it to high school.” Sara shook her head as if to will herself to move on from all that. “Anyway, she was outside goofing off with a soccer ball, like she did a lot. Billy was watching her, but I guess he missed it when she wandered into the road. I don’t blame him, but… well, that woman shouldn’t have been speeding.”
“What happened after that?” Rowen tried to be tender about all of this. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Sara shook her head again, implying she didn’t. “I heard an awful sound, and I didn’t think a whole lot of it at first to tell you the truth. Cars get into wrecks around here sometimes or they skid too fast around the corner. You hear it sometimes but don’t actually see it when you look out the window. I thought it was one of those, a wreck a ways off. It took me a minute to realize it had happened right outside my own house. I heard shouting and then that boy of hers was banging on the front door.”
“Boy?” Rowen repeated.
Sara nodded. “Her son was in the car with her at the time. I forget his name. Billy goes to school with him.”
“Trevor or Terrance?” asked Margo.
“I dunno.” Sara shrugged. “Both of those sound about right. One of those two.”
Rowen was willing to bet it was Terrance who had been in the car with Jessica. That would explain why he was much more resentful of her than the rest of the family. He would have a hard time forgetting something like the death of such a young girl. That sort of thing could only traumatize a person. “And then you answered the door?”
