The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon citm-4

by Leann Sweeney

  “You should see his poor face,” I said.

  “I caught a glimpse of him at the scene yesterday when my photographer and I were there for the story. But Morris was keeping us so far away from the accident, I didn’t notice any injuries. Will he be okay?”

  “He’ll be fine—or so he says. I’m more worried about Finn and any post-concussion problems. Worried about why he had blood on his shirt, too.”

  “Could this kid have had something to do with the murder, then?” Kara asked.

  “You know Candace,” I said. “She has to run down every lead and every bit of evidence. You ask me, Finn doesn’t have a criminal fiber in his being.”

  She set her coffee on the end table beside the chair. “What you believe in your heart and what the evidence will show might be very different. No matter what, I’ll help you and Tom and Finn any way I can.”

  I felt the tight muscles in my neck relax and smiled. “Thanks. Both Tom and Finn have been through the mill.”

  “Are you including the arrival of his brother, Bob the Perv, as part of going through the mill?” she said.

  My eyes widened. “Wait a minute. If you’re giving him that name, you’ve met him in person,” I said.

  “Oh yes. I stopped by Tom’s house this morning to talk to the house guest. Turns out, Bob’s a chatty guy. As a reporter, I do appreciate the talkative ones, but as a female, I do not appreciate him. He wouldn’t stop flirting, or making comments that he thought I might find charming. Boy, was he wrong to think I was the least bit charmed.”

  “The man got on my bad side right away, too. He allowed Tom’s cat to get out and poor Dashiell nearly died.” I felt in my pocket for my phone. “Speaking of Dashiell, I need to find out how he’s doing this morning.”

  “And I need to make tea. Coffee just isn’t enough.” She rose and went to the kitchen.

  After I learned Dashiell was doing well and could go home anytime, I disconnected. Go home? Not yet. Not with Tom there delivering a gun to the police. I’d have to talk to him about his cat—and soon.

  “Maybe you can enlighten me,” I said while Kara boiled water and filled pitchers with tea bags and cane sugar syrup. “I don’t know much about the wreck. Where did it happen?”

  Kara cocked her head. “You haven’t read the paper? I am shocked and dismayed.” She smiled. “Out in the boondocks on Brown Road. Pretty nasty accident. Car hit a telephone pole. Hard to tell if the driver even braked. Of course, if the driver was already dead…”

  “And you couldn’t get close enough to see much?”

  “Nope. We were so far from the scene my photographer stood on someone’s shoulders to get the photo of Tom’s car we ran in the paper.”

  “You didn’t see the dead man?” I said.

  “Nope. Glad I didn’t, too. Chief Baca spoke to me and said, and I quote, ‘The driver died at the scene.’ They wouldn’t release his name, which is routine until family is notified. When I get the official word on his identity, we’ll print it.”

  “I’ll make sure and get a paper, or… since you offered to help, you could get me a copy and do something else for me—for us,” I said.

  “I’m game,” she said.

  I handed her my shopping list.

  She glanced at what I’d written. “This is easy enough, but can it wait until after I stop by my new house? I have to make sure they’re earning the pretty penny this home is costing me. I’d love to be in by Christmas.”

  Kara’s house was being built on acreage at the edge of town. She’d used the money she’d inherited from John to buy the newspaper and build her first house.

  “I’ll take Finn out for lunch, so there’s no rush on the groceries,” I said.

  “I could pick up Dashiell if you and Tom are tied up,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’ll call you for help if Dashiell needs to leave the clinic by a certain time and I can’t make it,” I said.

  She finished making the tea, took a travel mug from the cupboard and filled it with ice. She poured herself the tea she’d been craving and was ready to go. I hugged her tightly at the back door and again thanked her for everything.

  I’d no sooner closed the door than my cell phone rang. I felt like I was living in Grand Central Station instead of my own little house in rural South Carolina.

  It was Candace. Seemed Hilary just arrived at the police station and wanted to see her son.

  “Bring Finn here, would you? Because I’m not telling this woman where her son is until I’ve asked her a few more questions.” She sounded like one unhappy deputy.

  “Getting Finn to the station to see her might take some serious convincing,” I said.

  “Tom came with me after we got the gun at his house. He was talking with the chief when I learned she’d arrived. You want to talk to him and see if he has any ideas on how to get Finn to talk to his mother?”

  “No. I’ll tell Finn the truth and say Tom will be around as a buffer.”

  “Thanks, Jillian. I’m so tired I can hardly think straight,” she said. “Come as soon as you can, okay?”

  After she disconnected, I stood in my kitchen wondering how Finn would react when I told him his mother was in town.

  No, I had a pretty good idea how he would react.

  My fear was what he might do.

  Eleven

  No surprise Finn balked at the idea of seeing his mother, so after nothing I said convinced him this would be a good idea, I called the police station and let Tom talk to him. After their chat, a reluctant Finn agreed to go with me, but we rode in stony silence to Mercy PD.

  As we walked through the pristine corridors of the old courthouse to the police offices located at the back of the building, Finn remained quiet. However, when we passed a few of Mercy’s less-than-finest citizens hanging around on the benches and chairs outside the door labeled “Mercy Police Department,” his eyes grew wide.

  He mumbled “Wow” under his breath.

  The smell of unwashed bodies and the droopy-eyed looks of the alcoholics and drug addicts made me tug on Finn’s elbow and we went quickly through that door. A sleepy-looking B.J. was sitting at the desk to our left. He wore a headset and was talking on the phone.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he was saying. “We do have a leash law. Let me give you county animal control’s number.”

  Sitting on one of the two chairs in the small waiting area was Thelma Reese, a retiree with a big heart. She held a plate of scrumptious-looking coconut cupcakes. I smiled at her and said, “Hey, Thelma. Looks like someone was up early baking.”

  “Hey there, Jillian,” she said. “I brought these for Morris, seeing as how he helped me out yesterday. Locked my keys in the Ford 150.”

  “Uh-oh. I heard someone say Morris is off duty today,” I said.

  Her face crumbled with disappointment. Rumor was Thelma locked her keys in the car on purpose at least once a month so Morris could come to her rescue.

  B.J., now off the phone, said, “Take them on over to his place, Thelma. You know how he loves sweets.”

  She perked up and rose. “You’re sure it would be all right?”

  “Perfectly fine,” B.J. said.

  She was out the door so fast I hardly got a whiff of those cupcakes.

  Finn said, “Cupcakes? Really? Between that lady and the people outside the door, I feel like I’ve landed on another planet.”

  “Not like on TV, huh?” I said.

  B.J. said, “Let me buzz Deputy Carson—oops, don’t have to. Here she comes.”

  Candace came out of the chief’s office and walked down the short hall in front of us, passing the closed doors I knew were the interrogation rooms.

  “Thanks for coming, you two.” She looked at me. “I’ll take it from here.”

  Finn stepped back and held up his hands. “Wait a minute. She’s staying with me, right? And where’s Tom? Tom told me—”

  “Your mama’s been worried about you,” Candace said.

  Finn shook his head
. “She doesn’t worry about anyone but herself. Tom said she just wanted to see me, not talk to me.”

  Candace narrowed her eyes and stared at Finn for a few seconds and then she nodded. “I understand. Come with me.”

  Finn didn’t move. “Mrs. Hart, too?”

  “Sure,” Candace said. I couldn’t read her expression because she was in total cop mode, but she sounded unbothered by Finn’s request.

  “What did my mother tell you?” Finn said as we followed Candace through the ancient wooden gate separating the waiting area from the hall.

  “Hang on,” she said, as she opened the door to the first interrogation room.

  Before we went inside, I heard a woman call, “Finn. Oh my God, you are okay.”

  She came running toward us. She must have been in Chief Baca’s office. She nearly toppled because of her super-high black heels, and was dressed all in black—black wool coat, black tights. Even her hair was such a dark brunette color it was nearly black.

  Eyes averted, Finn started to back up, his face ghostly pale.

  “Hang on, Finn,” Candace said. “I’ll handle this.” She stood squarely between Finn and the woman I assumed was his mother.

  “He’s not ready to talk to you, Mrs. Roth,” Candace said.

  Tom appeared in the door of the interrogation room we’d been about to enter. “Stay away from him, Hilary.”

  Tom’s ex-wife stared at him in confusion at first and then said, “What happened to you, Tom? Were you in the car with Nolan when—”

  “You know damn well what happened to me, Hilary. So—”

  I held up a hand, my heart pounding in reaction to this confrontation. In a firm voice, I said, “Tom, why don’t you take Finn with you?”

  “Jillian took the words right out of my mouth,” Candace said, nodding her head in the direction of the room Tom had emerged from.

  Tom’s anger seemed to dissipate in an instant. He nodded and gestured Finn inside. The door shut after them and I felt as if I could breathe again.

  Hilary Roth closed her eyes and shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry if I caused a problem. I’m so glad to see that Finn is all right and so confused by everything that’s happened. I’ve already lost someone I love and—” Her eyes filled. Exquisite, big brown eyes. She raised a gloved hand to her crimson lips. “I’m sorry. I still can’t believe Nolan’s gone.”

  Candace stepped toward her. “We here in Mercy are sorry for your loss. We’ll do everything we can to find out who did this to your husband. As you requested, you’ve seen your son, so you’re free to leave now.”

  Hilary didn’t seem to be paying attention and instead focused on me. “So you’re Jillian? The woman Chief Baca told me about? The one who cared for Finn?”

  “Um, yes.” I was almost at a loss for words. When I heard both Tom and Finn disparage this woman, I’d developed a mental picture of someone who looked like a Halloween witch, maybe even cackled, too. Not so. She was stunning. Since I couldn’t see a line or a wrinkle on her expertly made-up face, it was difficult to even guess her age.

  Candace said, “Chief Baca is finished talking with you, so as I said before—”

  “The chief was so very kind,” she said, her Carolina drawl thick as sorghum. “Is there a place in town I could stay while I wait for Nolan’s—” She pulled her lips in as if trying to gather herself. “For the postmortem to be done?”

  “All the motels are maybe ten miles north once you get on the interstate,” Candace said. “We do have a bed-and-breakfast in town, though.”

  “Do you think I could stay there on such short notice?” she asked.

  Candace turned. “B.J., would you please help Mrs. Roth call the Pink House?”

  “Sure enough,” B.J. answered.

  Candace and I stepped aside to allow her by. As she passed me, she said, “Thank you for helping my boy. He’s been so troubled lately.”

  Up close, I did see a few fine lines around her eyes. Her scent was familiar—Chanel No. 5, like Kara wore. I was still surprised by her. She seemed kind and genuine. No, not a Halloween witch at all.

  Candace put a hand on my back and told me to join Tom and Finn. “I’ve got to talk to the chief for a second.”

  I’d visited the other interrogation room, the one where a suspect could be handcuffed to the table. Pretty awful. This one was different and looked more like a barren kitchen. The maple table had to be fifty years old and the four high-back wooden chairs might have come straight from my grandparents’ estate sale.

  Finn was sitting next to Tom, and I took a seat across from them. I poured water into a paper cup from the stainless pitcher in the center of the table and took a long sip. My mouth was a little dry after meeting Hilary.

  “Water?” I asked Finn.

  “No, thanks,” he said.

  Tom slapped a pack of Trident gum in front of Finn. “How about this?”

  Finn smiled. “You remembered.” He punched out a piece of gum from the packet and popped it in his mouth.

  Tom then offered the gum to me, but I refused.

  I didn’t want to even mention Hilary, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “You mentioned you lost your phone. Are there friends in North Carolina you might want to talk to? Like from your high school?”

  “I only had one guy I hung with and he left for Duke a couple months ago,” Finn said.

  “If you want to call him, you can use my phone anytime. Friends are important.” I was thinking about how smart Finn seemed, how polite and well spoken. He should be a freshman in college like his friend, not sitting in a police interrogation room. I was puzzled as to why he wasn’t in school, but then immediately realized this kid may not have had anyone to help him get into a university. My late husband had told me how he helped Kara every step of the way when she applied to college. But what did kids like Finn do when they distrusted almost everyone in the entire world? They retreated, hid in their rooms. And then, when they got the chance, they ran. Yes, I understood why Finn was now sitting in a police station and not at Clemson or Duke or UNC.

  Candace came through the door, strands of hair flying free around her temples. She set a clipboard on the table. When she poured herself a cup of water, I noticed her hand shake.

  She sat and smiled at Finn. “Okay. We needed to talk a little more and I’m glad you came.”

  “Talk more about the gun?” Finn said. “I said I don’t know anything about it.”

  She said, “We’ve already spoken about the weapon. I’d like more information about your relationship with your mother and stepfather.”

  “Please quit using any word with father in it. He was Nolan. Just Nolan.” Finn reached for the pack of gum and took out another piece. He didn’t put it in his mouth, just turned the little white rectangle over and over between his fingers.

  “I get you didn’t like him,” Candace said evenly.

  “Haven’t I talked enough? I don’t know anything else.” Finn remained focused on the piece of gum he was fiddling with.

  “Maybe we can go back to before you left home. You remember that much, don’t you?” Candace said.

  Finn kept rolling the gum between his fingers.

  “If Mr. Roth hadn’t been murdered,” she went on, “it wouldn’t be any of my business. But I have to do my job. We’re working together—you, Tom, Jillian, all of us—to find the killer. But I need more facts.” She tilted her head down, probably hoping he’d make eye contact.

  He didn’t. “What did my mother tell you?”

  “She said there were problems between you and Nolan,” Candace said.

  Tom fidgeted in his chair as the topic turned to Hilary. “I’m not about to bad-mouth Finn’s mother, but take whatever my ex-wife says with a grain of salt.”

  “What Tom’s trying to say is, she lies. All the time,” Finn said.

  Candace pulled the clipboard toward her and poised a pen over the blank paper. “About what?”

  “She lied about Tom after t
hey broke up,” Finn said. “She told me he never wanted to see me again. Only took one text message to him for me to find out that wasn’t true. See, she thinks I’m stupid. Thinks I can’t figure things out for myself.”

  “Did she and Nolan get along?” Candace said.

  “I guess. But I pretty much stayed in my room since he got out of jail,” Finn said.

  “How long ago was he released?” she asked.

  “A year.” Finn finally put the second piece of gum in his mouth.

  “You’re saying you hardly talked to him?” Candace said. “Things must have been tense around your house.”

  Finn looked Candace straight in the eye for the first time. “Oh yeah. By the way, he was a bigger liar than she is. They deserved each other.” Finn blinked a few times and then said, “Sorry. He’s dead and no matter how big of a jerk he was, I didn’t want him to die.”

  Tom rested a hand on Finn’s forearm. “Tell her why you left, Finn.”

  Finn hung his head. “With my friends gone off to college, I got tired of being alone except for Yoshi. They wouldn’t even let him out into the rest of the house. He had to stay in my room. So I stayed with him.”

  Tears stung my eyes at the thought of Finn and Yoshi alone in a bedroom, day after day.

  “What else did you argue about besides your dog?” Candace asked.

  “It’s hard to argue when you don’t talk to people,” Finn said.

  “You did graduate from high school?” Candace asked.

  “Yes,” he answered, sounding calmer now.

  “If things at home hadn’t been such a mess he could have been first in his class,” Tom said.

  “I know you’re a smart kid,” Candace said. “And you probably have information you don’t even realize—and nothing to hide, right?”

  “Nothing to hide.” Finn’s face clouded with uncertainty. “At least nothing I can remember.”

  Candace said, “Let’s see if I can help you put yesterday back together. What’s the very last thing you remember?”

  Finn’s features seemed to relax since she’d switched her focus off his family. “I got a ride with a trucker in Greenville about midday. He was headed for Atlanta. Dropped me at a gas station in—I don’t remember the name of the place. I have maps and GPS on my phone, but I lost it somewhere. Anyway, I hitched another ride with some man in a U-Haul who said he was moving to Woodcrest. I knew Woodcrest was near where Tom lived. The guy let me off on the road into Mercy. Yoshi and I started walking. That’s the last thing I remember.”