Ready, Aim, Under Fire (Lexi Graves Mysteries, 10)

by Camilla Chafer

  “Is Debby under arrest?”

  “No. She’s not here yet. She’s coming by in ten minutes as a courtesy. Plus, I can’t arrest her. I have nothing to charge her with. I’m not even sure she’s involved except that her unexplained reappearance after a decade is damn strange and the dead woman is close to her parents. It could be just a coincidence.”

  “Fiona was adamant that Debby wasn’t the real Debby.” I clung to the theory but I knew that if there were a better motive, Garrett would jump on it. I didn’t need to ask if he were rummaging through Fiona’s life, trying to uncover any grudges or motives for killing her; I just knew he was searching.

  “Which is why Debby has been invited here but I’m not approaching her from that angle.” Garrett led us into a small room furnished with a table and three chairs. A large mirror almost covered one wall and we took the chairs that let us sit with our backs to it. I wondered if he planned on having anyone watching the interview via the two-way mirrored glass, and if so, who might it be?

  “Are you planning on rattling her cage a bit?”

  He gave me a tight smile. “Hope so.”

  “Why am I here?”

  “I want you to be on her team.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I’m going to be an ass and you need to stick up for her. She’s going to see you as trustworthy and consider you an ally. Plus, we’re establishing your cover as investigating Fiona’s murder, not whatever Debby is up to. Or the faux Debby, if you will.”

  “So…” I smiled. “Good cop, bad cop?”

  “You got it!” Garrett’s phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. “She’s here. Hold tight. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left the room and the door wide open. While I waited, I looked around, noticing the camera in the corner. I turned and stared at my reflection, wondering if someone was already standing in the room beyond, watching my back. Resisting the urge to stick out my tongue, I turned around just in time to see Garrett re-entering the room and Debby immediately behind him.

  “This is Debby Patterson,” he said, as if I didn’t know. I half stood up and stuck out my hand.

  “We met earlier,” I told him, then I said to Debby, “It’s nice to see you again.”

  “You’re the PI Fiona’s family hired,” she said, shaking my hand but looking confused. “Why are you here?”

  “Ms. Graves is assisting us with the case,” Garrett told her.

  “Isn’t your name Graves too?” Debby asked, looking from me to my brother.

  “Purely coincidence,” said Garrett quickly.

  “Oh, okay. What can I help you with?” Debby asked, apparently mollified by his quick statement. With the large age gap, it wasn’t a stretch to assume we were not siblings; yet the difference was too small for us to be parent and child. Most people thought all my uncles and aunts had a roomy generation gap too. She took the seat Garrett held out for her before he came over to my side of the table.

  “I understand your family is close to Fiona Queller’s?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Can you tell me where you were between seven and eight PM yesterday?”

  Debby glanced at me. “I already told Lexi. I picked up takeout and went to the park to eat it and then I went back to my hotel room.”

  “Can anyone verify your story?”

  “Sure. The server at the restaurant and I called my dad. I’m sure the hotel employees will vouch for me too.”

  “You think your dad is a good alibi?” Garrett inquired dryly.

  Debby frowned and opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off, ready to act the Good Cop. “Sounds like a solid alibi to me. Debby told me exactly the same earlier and I’m sure I can verify it.”

  “Hmph,” grunted Garrett. He looked down at his pad and I almost missed the small, thankful smile she shot me. Score one for Good Cop, I thought as Garrett continued.

  “You two get along?”

  “Who?” asked Debby.

  “You and the deceased?”

  “Yes. She was a long-time friend of the family and I always found her pleasant.”

  “Never any arguments? Or bad words?”

  “No.”

  I studied Debby’s face, waiting for her to embellish the lie but it didn’t come. With only Fiona to confirm their less-than-pleasant words, she probably felt capable of glossing over anything Fiona accused her of. If I didn’t already know about their altercation, I wouldn’t have suspected anything about Debby’s answer.

  “Seen her a lot over the years? Family functions, that sort of thing?” continued Garrett.

  “Actually no. I’ve been working and traveling abroad just like I told your colleagues already. I came in for the interview last week to close that ludicrous missing persons case you opened for no reason.”

  “Fiona visit you often?”

  “Why are you asking me that?”

  Garrett slapped his hand on the table. “I’m asking the questions here!”

  “Don’t worry about him,” I said to Debby. “He hasn’t had enough coffee today.”

  Garrett shot me a dirty look. “You’re here primarily as a courtesy to the family,” he snapped, then addressing Debby, he said, “Answer the question please.”

  “No, she never visited me.”

  “Fiona keep in touch with you? Fill you in on what’s happening at home? Tell you the neighborhood gossip? That sort of thing?”

  “Actually, no. My mom mentioned her occasionally but until I saw Fiona last week, I hadn’t laid eyes on her in a decade.”

  “What about her husband?”

  “Jerry? No.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “You’ve known him for a long time?”

  “As long as my parents knew Fiona.”

  “He ever hit on you?”

  “What?” shouted Debby at the same time as I frowned at Garrett. I wasn’t sure where this conversation was going but I wished Garrett had filled me in prior to now. “No, he’s never hit on me! Jerry was practically an uncle.”

  “Like an uncle who’s about to come into a big inheritance and widowhood, with a young twinkie that caught his eye?”

  “Did you just call me a twinkie?” gasped Debby.

  “That bother you more than the idea your ‘uncle’—” Garrett added air quotes while looking appalled “—bumped off his wife?”

  “You’re an ass,” said Debby. “Jerry would never hurt Fiona and we definitely weren’t having an affair or planning to run away together. I haven’t seen him either in the past ten years.”

  I spotted my opportunity and jumped in. “Lieutenant Graves, you have no basis for this line of questioning.”

  “I gotta cover all the bases.”

  “You got it wrong,” I told him sternly, “and I think you should apologize.” Garrett glanced at Debby but said nothing so I continued, “I’m sorry, Debby. You came down here to help and now you have to put up with this. It’s wrong, I know, but it’s best we get it over with.”

  Debby sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know what else I can tell you. Like I said, until last week, I hadn’t seen either Fiona or Jerry in ten years. I can’t imagine who would want to hurt Fiona but I’m sure her husband wouldn’t have harmed a hair on her head.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “He held her hand.”

  Garrett knitted his brows together and I felt as confused as he did. “Huh?” he said.

  “Last week,” explained Debby. “They held hands when they left my parents’ house. You don’t do that after twenty years of marriage unless you really love someone. At least, that’s what I think. So no, I don’t think Jerry killed Fiona and I can’t think of anyone else who would.”

  “What did your parents tell you about the Quellers while you were living abroad?” asked Garrett.

  “Not much. I think Mom mentioned some dinner they were going to; and there was one time she said they were taking an anniversary
trip to Rome. I remember that because I’d just finished working there before I left for Athens. Let me see, I think my mom might have told me they went to New York together to see some Broadway show and could have stayed the weekend.”

  “This over the phone?”

  “No, by email. Time difference,” Debby explained with a shrug.

  “You still have those emails?”

  “I don’t think so. I changed the provider and lost some emails. I’m not good with modern technology.”

  “You never Skyped? Or used FaceTime?”

  “What are they?”

  “Seriously?” asked Garrett.

  Debby’s nostrils flared. “Yes, seriously.”

  “Video chats?”

  “Oh, no! I haven’t even mastered emails.”

  “So you said.”

  “What does any of this have to do with Fiona’s murder?”

  “We’re interviewing everyone close to the family, building a picture of the deceased and her most intimate relationships,” said Garrett, evading the answer. “You know their kids?”

  “I did. I used to babysit the youngest but I guess she’s in college now.”

  “All okay between her and her mom?”

  Debby shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

  Garrett flipped the sheet he was looking at and appeared to scan the next page. If he were genuinely reading from it, I didn’t know. It might have been all for show, just like his lewd insinuations. “What did you talk about at that dinner last week?” he asked, circling around to the dinner again.

  “It was a welcome home dinner, right?” I interjected and Debby nodded.

  “My parents got a few friends together to welcome me home,” she started. “It was a surprise.”

  “Who else attended?”

  “My mom and dad, Fiona and Jerry. Our old neighbors, Sam and Elsa, and my grandma.”

  “No school friends of yours? Colleagues?”

  “No, I’m sad to say I’ve lost touch.”

  “Must have been nice to see Grandma,” said Garrett.

  “It was. I just wish she still knew me. She has dementia, you know, and is losing her eyesight. She lives in Walnut View Retirement Home now that she needs full-time care.”

  “Expensive place,” whistled Garret.

  “My grandparents were well off and Grandma can afford it. Not that she knows it, I guess,” said Debby. “My parents take care of all that.”

  “Can you remember any conversations with Fiona?” I asked, steering the discussion back to the main topic.

  “Not really. She sat at the opposite end of the table. I wanted to sit beside my grandma.”

  “So Fiona didn’t say anything out of the ordinary?” Garrett asked.

  Once again, I studied Debby for any signs of a lie but there wasn’t a single one when she replied, “Not that I recall.”

  “She mention anyone watching her house? Feeling like she was being followed?”

  “No.”

  “Did she seem happy? Sad? Worried about anything?” he asked, and I knew he was trying to lure her into a candid response.

  “Not worried. Happy, I guess. She made plans with my mom to play tennis. I think that was the same day she got killed.”

  He tapped his finger on the file. “That ties in with what it says here in the report.”

  “Listen, Lieutenant Graves, I want to help. I really do, but I’ve been away a long time and I just didn’t know Fiona maybe as well as I should have. I don’t know what else I can tell you. She was a nice person.”

  “She’s right,” I agreed. “It was really great of you to take the time to come here and help.”

  Garrett looked at her for a long minute but Debby didn’t squirm at all. Instead, she simply stared back, barely blinking. “Thank you for your time,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to the lobby.”

  “Thanks for helping us,” I added, shaking her hand again as we all stood. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Garrett guided Debby out, one hand hovering over her shoulders, not friendly but definitely authoritative. He was back in under a minute. “What do you make of that?” he asked.

  “Which part?”

  “The lying part.”

  “Yeah, I wondered about that. Why didn’t she bother to mention that Fiona told her she didn’t believe she was Debby and wanted to know what kind of scam she was pulling?”

  “I was thinking about the bit where she didn’t know what Skype and FaceTime were? Even my kids know how to use them!”

  “Grandma O’Shaughnessy uses Skype all the time,” I added. We both shivered at the sound of her name.

  “And she conveniently lost all her emails?” Garrett added, looking down at me. “Unless she deleted her account, I don’t buy it. I wish there were some way someone could take a look at her emails but unfortunately, there is no way I can get a warrant.” He gave me another very pointed look.

  “Gotcha,” I said, making a mental note to ask Lucas to hack Debby’s email.

  Garrett shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Do you think Debby killed Fiona?”

  “If she did, it must be to hide one helluva secret. Shame I’ll never be able to read her emails to find out what it could be.”

  “Shame,” I agreed.

  “No, it’s a big shame that…”

  “Okay, I get the hint! I thought we were being smooth about this?”

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Want to come with me to the Pattersons? Check out this alibi with her dad?”

  “Definitely. Can I ride in your car and turn on the siren?” I asked hopefully.

  “What are you? Five years old?”

  I blinked back my disappointment. “So… no?”

  “You can follow me.”

  “Fine. Where are we headed? Their house?”

  “No. Rod Patterson has a clinic not far from here. Let’s go hit him up.”

  I expected Dr. Patterson to be a general physician, but when we walked into the lobby of the tall building his surgery occupied, I could tell he wasn’t just any old doctor. After riding the elevator to the sixth floor, we stepped out into a plush waiting room, and I realized Dr. Patterson was a specialist with an expensive set of patients. The wall behind the reception desk held large framed photos of him and two colleagues, men in white coats who were smiling.

  “We need to speak with Dr. Patterson,” said Garrett.

  “He’s with a client now, but I can schedule you an appointment for…” the receptionist scrolled her computer screen with a wireless mouse. “Eight months’ time?” she asked with a joyous chirp.

  “How about a much quicker appointment?” said Garrett. This time, he flashed his badge.

  “Well, what do you know?” said the receptionist without hesitation. “An appointment just opened up in five minutes.”

  “Back there?” asked Garrett, stepping towards the glass doors separating the waiting area from the rear corridor.

  “That’s right but I really must ask you to wait until he’s finished with his patient.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Dr. Patterson is an IVF practitioner and I can’t caution you about what you might walk in on,” she said, still smiling. I bit back my laughter and curiously looked around. The adjacent wall was covered with photographs of smiling babies. Below that was a table scattered with thank you cards.

  “Are all these babies the results of this practice?” I asked, nodding towards the wall.

  The receptionist nodded. “Every one and plenty more. We just ran out of space.”

  “Dr. Patterson must be very successful.”

  “He’s the best.” A beep sounded from behind the desk and she glanced down. “He’s free now. I’ll walk you through.”

  “Thanks.”

  We followed the receptionist down the corridor and entered the furthest door on the left, stepping into a large, bright corner office. The walls we
re stuffed with medical journals and photos of more babies. Dr. Patterson sat behind a very old-looking desk, squinting through thin-rimmed glasses at his computer.

  “Dr. Patterson, this is…” the receptionist started, then stopped, looking at us to fill in the blanks.

  “Lieutenant Graves and my colleague, Lexi Graves,” Garrett introduced us.

  “Well, aren’t you a fine-looking couple? This your first try?” he asked us.

  “Pardon?” replied Garrett. Behind us, the door clicked shut.

  “Your first attempt at IVF? I don’t make promises, of course, but I can tell you I will do everything possible to get you pregnant,” he said smiling from Garrett to me.

  “No, that’s okay,” I said. “I don’t think I want to be pregnant right now.”

  “She’s my sister!” said Garrett, his voice rising.

  “Okay, well, that’s not recommended…” Dr. Patterson started, blinking as he took off his glasses.

  “We’re not here to have a baby! We’re here on official business regarding the murder of Fiona Queller.” Garrett flashed his badge again. Given Garrett’s red face, I was pretty sure he wished he began with that.

  “Oh, that makes sense. This would have been the first time in my career I would have found it necessary to give a certain talk.”

  “No need,” said Garrett, cutting him off. “Absolutely no need at all.”

  “Please take a seat and excuse my error. You have great bone structure,” he said to me as I sat down where he indicated.

  “Thank you.”

  “Excellent hips.”

  “Thanks ag—”

  “Fiona Queller,” Garrett said loudly before Dr. Patterson contemplated anything else. I figured he saw all people through their baby-making potential so I didn’t take any offense. Plus, he did say I had great bone structure.

  “Yes, yes, Fiona. It’s such a tragedy. My wife is terribly distraught. They were very close. How can I help?”

  “We’d like to know where you were between seven and eight PM yesterday?”

  “Where I was? Why? Am I under suspicion?” Dr. Patterson’s eyes widened and he sat up a little straighter.

  “Should you be?” asked Garrett.

  “No! I was here at the office. Wading through a pile of paperwork that I had to get through.”

  “Can anyone verify that?”