Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery) Page 8

  Richmond turned to me and said, “That went well,” in a sarcastic tone. Then he stomped from the front area into the back hallway.

  I followed him into the break room, where Brenda Joiner was still sitting at the table where she’d been with Jacob. “I take it things didn’t go so well?” she said with a questioning look.

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Richmond grumbled. “I don’t suppose the kid said anything to you that might be helpful?”

  “Afraid not,” Brenda said with an apologetic shrug. “But then, I didn’t ask him anything related to the crime. I didn’t want to jeopardize any formal statement he might make.”

  Richmond huffed his frustration.

  “If you don’t need anything else from me, do you mind if I split?” Brenda asked.

  “That’s fine,” Richmond said. “Thanks for babysitting.”

  “No problem.” With that, Brenda got up and exited out the back door to the rear parking lot where all the squad cars are parked.

  Richmond turned and looked at me with a frown. “Well, at least we know the older kid has a habit of sneaking out of his house. But the time we know he did it doesn’t help us. We’ll have to verify his alibi for later on, see if he was actually at this friend’s house when he said he was.”

  Stephanie came back, wearing her headset. “That Terwilliger woman you told me to call just got here.”

  “Send her on back,” Richmond said.

  As Stephanie went to fetch Mandy, Richmond turned to me and said, “This ought to be interesting. Let’s see if we can find out why Ms. Terwilliger felt it necessary to lie to us.”

  Chapter 9

  Mandy Terwilliger’s eyes were bloodshot and redrimmed, and her short, white-blond hair was all spiky, as if she’d been running her hands through it. She looked frail and wounded, though it might have been her diminutive size that gave that impression, particularly since she hadn’t come alone. Walking beside her, dressed in slacks and a blouse rather than a bathrobe, was Rose Carpenter, Derrick’s neighbor. As the two women strolled down the hallway toward us, Stephanie hollered to Richmond.

  “Sorry, I tried to get the other woman to wait up here, but they insisted on coming back there together.”

  Richmond dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand and then shifted his attention to Mandy. “I have no interest in talking to your friend,” he said.

  Rose pouted, and I noticed she’d put on some makeup since we last saw her: mascara, eye shadow, blush, and a sexy red shade of lipstick. I bit back a smile, certain that the makeup had been applied for Richmond’s benefit. Lest I had any doubts, Rose’s flirtatious eye flutters and coquettish posturing confirmed my thinking. Unfortunately, I don’t think Richmond was aware of it. Mandy said, “She’s not here to talk, she’s here to provide me with moral support.”

  Richmond frowned and looked over at Rose, who broke into a broad smile. Richmond quickly averted his gaze back to Mandy. “Some of the questions I need to ask you are intimate, private ones,” he said. He then looked back at Rose. “You need to go wait in the lobby area.”

  “And if I don’t?” Rose said, straightening up and looking ready for a fight.

  “If you don’t, I’ll find something to charge you with and have you arrested,” Richmond shot back irritably. I suspected it was an empty threat, but it was also a wasted one.

  Rather than looking intimidated, Rose looked intrigued. “Would you have to handcuff me?” she asked in a hopeful tone of voice.

  “I might,” Richmond said gruffly, and once again I had to bite back a smile because it was obvious he was clueless about Rose’s sexual innuendo.

  Rose looked over at Mandy and said, “I’ll wait out front for you.”

  Mandy nodded, and as soon as Rose was back in the lobby area, we led Mandy into the conference room, where Richmond directed her to sit across from us.

  As soon as we were settled, Richmond flipped on the audiovisual equipment and recited the date, the time, the case this interview related to, and Mandy’s full name. He then informed Mandy that everything was being recorded. Once Mandy indicated her understanding of the situation, Richmond got right down to business.

  “Ms. Ter williger—”

  “It’s Mrs. Ter williger.”

  Richmond looked surprised. “You’re married?”

  “I’m a widow.”

  “Oh. Sorry,” Richmond said with an apologetic smile. Mandy smiled back, but her smile disappeared in a blink with Richmond’s next sentence. “Mrs. Terwilliger, I’m interested in knowing why you lied to us earlier this evening when we asked you when you had last seen Derrick Ames.”

  Mandy blinked several times very fast and squirmed in her seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  “Cut the crap,” Richmond said. “Several of the neighbors saw you at Derrick’s house earlier today, around the same time that his son Jacob showed up. Are you saying that isn’t true?”

  Mandy swallowed hard. “Okay,” she said, fidgeting with her fingers. “I was there this afternoon, around two-thirty or so for about thirty minutes.”

  “Why did you lie to us earlier?”

  “Because I was working delivering flowers, and I’m not supposed to be taking time for anything personal. If my boss finds out, I’ll get fired. And I can’t afford to lose my job. It’s hard enough as it is trying to get by on a part-time salary. My husband died a year and a half ago in a car accident, and while I did get a small settlement from the insurance company, he didn’t have any life insurance. The majority of the settlement money is earmarked for my kids’ college fund, and we’re trying to make a go of it with the rest plus my salary. As it is, we’re barely squeaking by. If I lose my job, I don’t know what will happen.”

  I sympathized with her plight, one I feared facing myself.

  “If you’re that tight on money, why don’t you get a full-time job?” Richmond asked.

  “I’ve thought about it,” she said. “I worked as a bookkeeper full time when I first got married, but right now I need to be there for my kids. They’ve had a hard time of it, losing their father that way, and my youngest, Oliver, has been having some problems . . . acting out, hanging with a bad crowd, that sort of thing. That’s why I’m committed to volunteering at the high school three days a week, so I can keep an eye on him. I’m hoping to return to a full-time job at some point, and I’m keeping my bookkeeping skills up to date by working as treasurer for the PTA and doing some side work for the owner of the florist shop, helping out with the books.”

  “You met Derrick at the school?” Richmond asked.

  “Sort of,” Mandy said, nodding. “The first time I met him was at a PTA meeting, and after that we crossed paths a few times at the school. We started out with a few friendly waves and hellos in the hall and cafeteria. Things didn’t progress to another level until just a few months ago.”

  “Tell me about your visit to his house this afternoon.”

  Mandy glanced over at me, and her pale skin turned a fiery red in her cheeks. “I took the van home and parked it in my garage so no one would see it. Then I walked over to Derrick’s for a little, um, afternoon delight,” she said, looking sheepish.

  “You had sex,” Richmond said, putting the blunt on it.

  Mandy nodded.

  “And did Jacob show up while you were there?”

  “He did,” she said with a grimace. “We had already. . . you know . . . done it, and we were lying in bed. I said I had to go, kissed Derrick, and mentioned something about getting together for a late dinner tomorrow night. But Derrick was behaving strangely.”

  “How so?” Richmond asked.

  “He was standoffish all of a sudden, almost cold . . . hesitant about making any future plans. I sensed something was bothering him, and I tried to coax it out of him, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. So I tried a little, um, harder . . . you know what I mean?” she said, her cheeks flushing again. “And then suddenly Jacob was there, standing in
the doorway to the bedroom, looking all pissed off.”

  “Did Jacob say anything?”

  “He did,” Mandy said, frowning. “I don’t recall his exact words, but it was obvious he was upset.”

  “And what happened next?”

  “Jacob ran off, and Derrick got out of bed, pulled on his jeans, and ran after him. Once they were gone, I got dressed as fast as I could and went downstairs to leave. I heard them in the kitchen arguing, and I knew that my presence there was only going to make things worse, so I left through the front door and walked back to my house. Then I finished my deliveries.”

  “Did you overhear any of this argument Jacob and Derrick were having?”

  “Some,” she said. “It was about Jacob wanting Derrick and his ex-wife to get back together. The kid’s had a hard time with the divorce, and he’s convinced that Derrick and Wendy can work things out between them.”

  “Do you think that’s possible?” Richmond asked. It was a smart question, a fishing expedition to see how much Mandy knew.

  Mandy pondered the question for a few seconds and then said, “Does anything I say in here stay private?”

  Richmond shrugged. “It depends on whether or not anything you say becomes critical or evidentiary in solving this case. I can’t make any promises. But I will tell you that we’re not in the business of spreading gossip unnecessarily.”

  Mandy nodded, looking indecisive for a bit before she made her decision. “From what Derrick has told me, there’s no chance of it,” she said. “Wendy has . . . um . . . how can I put this delicately? She has other leanings.”

  “Meaning?” Richmond pushed. I figured he was doing so to keep Mandy unsettled since we knew exactly what Wendy’s other leanings were.

  “She’s a lesbian,” Mandy said with a roll of her eyes. “Apparently she now likes women instead of men.”

  “I see,” Richmond said, and he scribbled something on the pad in front of him. “Did Derrick have any enemies that you’re aware of?”

  Mandy gave it a moment’s thought and then shook her head. “No. Everybody likes him. The students like him. The other teachers like him. As far as I know, all his neighbors like him. I’ve never heard anyone say anything to the contrary.”

  “Have you dated any other men since your husband died?”

  “God, no.”

  “Any other men show an interest in dating you?”

  “Sure, there have been a few. A couple of the other male teachers made some overtures a while back, and a friend of my husband’s hinted around a few months ago. But I made it clear I wasn’t interested, and I never went out with any of them.”

  “So you don’t think any of them would resent Derrick for succeeding where they failed?”

  “No way,” Mandy said, with an adamant shake of her head.

  “Just to be sure, can you give me the names of these men?”

  Mandy did so.

  “Can you recall any of the specific things that were said between Jacob and Derrick during this argument they had?”

  Mandy’s brow furrowed in thought. “Jacob was doing most of the talking, or rather yelling,” she said. “He was chastising his father for not trying hard enough to save the marriage. The usual stuff. It’s a recurring theme with Jacob.”

  “One final thing,” Richmond posed. “Did Derrick have a cell phone when you saw him today?”

  Mandy frowned at this and gave Richmond an odd look. “I suppose so, though, to be honest, I can’t recall seeing it. My attention was focused elsewhere most of the time.”

  “Did the two of you talk on the phone much, or message back and forth?”

  “We did,” Mandy said. “He texted me sometime after I left his house to say he wanted to see me. I texted him back around six or six-thirty, and when he didn’t answer, I sent him another one an hour later, and again when I was getting off work.” She paused, looked sad, and shook her head. “I knew something was wrong when he didn’t answer me. He’s usually so prompt.”

  “Do you still have those text messages on your phone?”

  “I do.”

  “Would you mind if I took a look?”

  Mandy frowned. “I guess,” she said. She reached into her purse and took out her phone. Then she tapped the screen a few times and handed the phone over to Richmond.

  I leaned over and read along with him. Derrick sent a text to Mandy just before four o’clock that said WE NEED TO TALK. At 6:20 she texted him back: WANT ME 2 COME BY AFTER WORK? At 7:31 she texted him again: WHEN SHOULD I COME BY? Then at 8:14 she texted him one last time: IS EVERYTHING OKAY? That was the end of any exchanges between them.

  Richmond handed her back the phone and then looked over at me. “Any questions?”

  I shook my head. Richmond turned back to Mandy. “Thank you for coming in, Mrs. Terwilliger,” he said. “If I have any other questions, I’ll be back in touch. But before you leave, would you mind letting us print you?”

  “You want my fingerprints? Why?”

  “For elimination purposes. Obviously we expect to find your prints in Mr. Ames’s house, given the nature of your relationship with him. We’re looking for prints that don’t belong there, so we need to know whose prints are whose.”

  Mandy nodded, and Richmond used the new tablet device the department received a couple of months ago to scan her prints and upload them to a database. Once he was done, Mandy got up and left the room without so much as a good-bye.

  “Did her demeanor seem odd to you?” Richmond asked me once Mandy was gone.

  “I guess,” I said. “It’s hard to know.”

  Richmond cocked his head and narrowed his eyes at me. “You seem a little out of sorts tonight,” he said. “Is everything okay?”

  I nodded, and then, like the emotionally stable, utterly professional woman I was at the time, I burst into tears.

  Chapter 10

  “It sounds like it was an interesting case,” Maggie says to me.

  “It was.”

  “Lots of single parenting going on. Did that strike a theme with you?”

  I pat my rotund tummy. “It did. For one thing, after watching the Ames boys go at one another in the car, I decided this child will be my one and only.”

  “But what about Emily? If you have any plans to spend time with Hurley, you’ll also have Emily in your life, right?”

  I think about that and shrug. “I suppose, but she’s practically grown already.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” says Dr. Killjoy, with a humorless laugh. “She’s a teenager, one who has undergone a number of very stressful changes recently, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts to act out at some point. And that can make a few years of child rearing seem like a lifetime.”

  She had that right. When I first met Emily, she had seemed like a bright, reasonable, and friendly child. Her acceptance of me and, more important, of my romantic history with Hurley, had set me at ease. She had even shown an interest in what I did at the ME’s office, and she had demonstrated an outstanding ability to draw when she made a skeleton that was hanging in our office come to life. I thought we were on a good footing and was relieved, given that the circumstances under which we met had been less than ideal. But something changed after Hurley and Emily disappeared to find her mother. Ever since their return, Emily’s behavior had been the polar opposite of what it had been initially, and that made me rethink the whole idea of having kids at all. As if the child inside me registers this thought, he or she decides to act out by kicking me hard in the ribs. I wince and Maggie catches it.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say, rubbing my tummy. “Sometimes the kid gets a little rambunctious.”

  “Any regrets about the pregnancy?”

  “No, at least not when it comes to my decision to have the kid.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Well, for one thing, pregnancy is not my favorite state of being,” I tell her. “Not long after I found out, it was as if someone was spinn
ing the Barf Wheel of Fortune. I don’t know why they call it morning sickness because it knows no sense of time. I could be starving hungry and grab something to eat, and halfway through it I’d have to run to the bathroom and barf it all up. Sometimes the nausea hit me in the middle of the night, in the middle of my coffee, in the middle of an autopsy . . . pretty random. I thought things would get better once the nausea went away, but then the peeing took over, and that hasn’t stopped. It’s like I have an army of little men in my stomach stomping on my bladder all the time. Some days I can barely wipe before I have to go again. It’s even worse now than it was in the beginning because getting these pants up and down is a workout these days. And just how the hell am I supposed to be able to reach anything down there? I haven’t been able to see or trim that area for months. By now it probably looks like the Amazon jungle. And I’m going to have a cadre of people staring at it any day now. I have nightmares about doctors and nurses gathered around me dressed in surgical masks, army fatigues, and pith helmets, making comments about how hard it will be to navigate through the bush.”

  Maggie bites back a laugh.

  “It isn’t funny,” I tell her.

  She nods and frowns as if to agree with me, but her lips are contorting as she tries not to laugh.

  “I’m serious. It’s no picnic, Maggie. The other day I put on two different shoes and didn’t realize it until someone pointed it out to me. And then I thought it was a joke. Turns out it wasn’t, but I didn’t know that until I sat down and put my feet up. And don’t even get me started on the stretch marks. My abdomen looks like a GPS map of downtown Chicago. Plus, it’s not bad enough that I have to pee every half hour; things aren’t working so good on the other end, either. Sometimes I swear this kid in here has a death grip on my colon. I’m pretty sure I now have hemorrhoids the size of walnuts, though I can’t be sure since I can’t see anything. All I know is there’s something down there that never used to be there. I waddle like a frigging penguin, and I spend half the day wondering if that sensation I feel means I crapped my pants, or my hemorrhoid is moving.”