Laurel Heights 3

by Lisa Worrall

  “What are you saying?” There was the deer in headlights again.

  “I’m saying…, if you were tied up in the bedroom and Tristan was bleeding to death in the study, if there had been someone else here, with you incapacitated and Tristan no longer a threat, they would have had plenty of time to take whatever they wanted.” He sighed. “And then there’s the coroner’s report.”

  “The coroner’s report?” she echoed.

  Scott nodded. “The coroner has stated that whoever wielded the knife that killed Tristan was of a very slight build. In fact, she’s certain the killer is a woman.”

  Audrey shook her head. “No. There was a man in our room. I woke up and there was a man in our room!”

  Scott gave her a pitying look. “Audrey, if you don’t tell us the truth, we can’t help you.”

  “I’ve told you the truth!” Her voice rose.

  “Did he hit you again?” Scott asked. “Did he hit Christopher again?”

  “Help us, help you, Audrey,” Will interjected. “Help Christopher. Tell us what happened.”

  “I ha—!”

  “What the fuck is going on in here?” Barrett stormed into the room minus the coffee he’d been sent to make. “Audrey? Are you okay?” He pushed his way between Will and his cousin.

  “Three years, Audrey.” Scott ignored Barrett. “Was three years ago the first time he’d hit you? Or had he done it before?” He lowered his voice to an almost menacing level. “Was that the first time he hit Christopher?”

  “What are you talking about!” Barrett exclaimed. “She already told you he nev—”

  “When he put Christopher in the hospital,” Scott continued. “Was it an accident, or did he do it on purpose?”

  “No—!”

  “Did you plan it?” Will asked. “Did you find out about Tiffany? Did he threaten to leave you for her?”

  “No! I-I—”

  “Was it an accident?” Scott pressed. “Did he hit you? Beat you? Threaten to hurt Christopher? You wanted it over, didn’t you? You just wanted to be safe. For it to stop. What did—?”

  “Stop! Just stop!” Barrett yelled. “What is the matt—?”

  “Yes!” Audrey all but screamed the word, immediately silencing her cousin.

  “Yes what, Audrey?” Will asked gently.

  “I did it,” she replied, sinking back against the couch cushions. “I killed him.”

  “Audrey, shut up!” Barrett snapped. “Don’t say another word!” He rounded on Scott. “She wants a lawyer.”

  “Shut up, Michael,” Audrey said, her voice cracked and raw. “Shut up.”

  “What—?”

  “Audrey,” Scott drew her attention back to him, “are you saying that you killed Tristan on Saturday night?”

  “Yes.” Her answer could not be mistaken, there was no hesitation.

  “Oh, my God.” Barrett slapped his hand to his mouth, obviously in complete shock.

  Scott was right there with him. He wasn’t expecting her to confess that easily, but he could see the relief in her eyes and the way she held herself—she was glad it was over. Will shot him a look and Scott nodded. He really didn’t want to say it, but he had no choice. He stood up and took a deep breath.

  “Audrey Petersen,” he began. “I am arresting you for the murder of Tristan Petersen. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights as I have explained them to you?”

  Audrey nodded. “Yes.”

  “If you could stand up,” Will said, as he got to his feet.

  Audrey followed suit and turned to Barrett. “Michael, take Christopher to my parents’.” He looked rather dazed and she nudged him until he looked her in the eye. “Take Christopher to my parents.”

  “Of course,” Barrett nodded, “of course.”

  Out of habit, Scott unhooked his cuffs off his belt and Audrey held out her hands.

  “No!”

  Scott spun on his heel at the sound of the hysterical scream from the open living-room doorway. He cursed loudly as he saw Christopher standing there, his fists clenched at his sides and he shot Barrett an angry glare. Fucking idiot left the door open!

  “Chris—” The air whooshed out of Audrey’s lungs as Christopher sprinted across the room and threw his arms around her.

  “Don’t take her!” he yelled. “It—”

  “Christopher!” Audrey tried to hush him, but he shook his head vehemently, tears coursing down his cheeks.

  “Christopher,” Barrett said, surprisingly softly, trying to extricate the young boy from his mother’s arms. “Come—”

  “No, you can’t take her!” Christopher screamed. “She didn’t do anything!”

  “Christopher, be quiet!” Audrey snapped and Scott caught the sudden terror in her eyes over the top of her son’s head.

  “Mommy, please don’t go!” Christopher sobbed into her dress. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise. I didn’t mean to, but he was hurting you again.” Scott’s eyes widened as the words tumbled over one another. “I had to make him stop! I had to!”

  “Jesus!” Scott hissed. Could he have heard right?

  Audrey grabbed him to her and turned her now tear-filled gaze to Scott and Will. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He’s just a little boy. I killed Tristan. I did it. It was me!”

  Scott turned to Will and knew that what he saw in Will’s eyes was mirrored in his own.

  Holy fuck!

  It was around three in the afternoon that Will and Scott sat across the table in interview room two from Audrey Petersen and her lawyer, Daryl Bongiovi, no relation, he informed them as he sat down next to Audrey. She hadn’t actually asked for a lawyer but, when they’d arrived back at the station, he'd been waiting for her. According to Bongiovi, no relation, Barrett had telephoned Audrey’s father as soon as they’d left, who had immediately retained Bongiovi’s services. Scott eyed him as he opened his briefcase and took out a yellow legal pad. He didn’t own one, but Scott recognized an Armani suit when he saw it. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t cheap.

  “Where’s Christopher?” Audrey asked, eyeing her lawyer as suspiciously as Scott.

  Will reached out and squeezed her hand where it lay on the table. “He’s just outside with Noah, you remember Noah?” Audrey nodded. “I’m sure Christopher’s already beaten Noah’s score at Angry Birds by now.” She smiled, and Scott silently thanked God for Will, for not the first and most definitely not the last time.

  Scott motioned to the camera in the corner of the room. “We’ll be taping this interview, Audrey, is that okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “For the tape, this is the interview between Detectives Harrison and Turner, Audrey Petersen and her legal representative, Daryl Bongiovi, in connection with the murder of Tristan Petersen.” Scott gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Okay, Audrey, can you tell us when Tristan first began abusing you?”

  “Three years ago.”

  “Did he ever hit you before that?”

  “No, not once,” Audrey confirmed. “It was as though he changed toward us overnight. For the longest time I had no idea why.”

  “Until you found out about Tiffany?” Will asked softly. She nodded. “How long have you known?”

  “About four months,” Audrey confirmed. “I’d tried to leave him on several occasions. But he swore if I left him, he’d kill Christopher and see me rot in jail for it. To prove he’d make good on his threat, he pushed Christopher down the stairs. That was the first time he put him in the hospital.”

  “And the second time?” Scott said, trying to keep calm. He had firsthand experience of a cowardly father who’d put his hands on a little boy.

  “That was after I’d taken Chris and tried to run.” She ran her shaking fingers through her hair. “I didn’t know he’d put a tracking device on the car. H
e found us at a motel and dragged us back home. He would only allow me to take Chris to and from school after that.”

  “And Tiffany?” Will prompted.

  “I knew there was someone else,” Audrey replied. “The weekend business trips, the late nights in the city. I’m not stupid.” She sighed. “I hired a private detective. Tristan wasn’t exactly discreet, he left a trail a mile wide, they were easy to find. After I’d figured out the timeline, I knew why he’d started hurting us… because he wanted to be with her.”

  “Did you confront him?” Scott asked.

  “Yes.” She huffed out a joyless laugh. “That was visit number eighteen to the emergency room. I thought if I could find something to show he was committing adultery that he might let us go. Reputation was everything to Tristan. So, was my father’s money. He was never going to let us go.” She grabbed Will’s hand. “But please, you have to believe me, I didn’t know he’d married her until you told me yesterday. I thought it was just an affair. That poor girl.” Her gaze hardened. “How could he do that to her?”

  Scott glanced at Will, dumbfounded. After all the bastard had put her through, she was worried about the secret family he’d left behind. When he first laid eyes on Audrey Petersen, he put her firmly in the stereotype of trophy wife. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “Audrey.” Will leaned forward on the table, letting her keep hold of his hand. “Can you tell us what happened Saturday night?”

  Audrey’s gaze dropped to where her fingers were covered by Will’s and, when she spoke, her voice was smaller. Scott had the urge to reach out and cover both their hands with his own, but he kept as still as he could, not wanting to distract her.

  “He was in a mood all day, so Chris and I stayed out of his way as much as we could.” She frowned. “Those days were the most difficult.”

  “How so?” Will asked.

  “Walking on eggshells,” she replied. “The constant fear of doing something that would set him off. I watched Chris playing with his cars, his mouth moving, but not making a sound and I knew we had to leave. I didn’t care if he killed me. I just had to get Chris out of there.” She sighed heavily. “I put Chris to bed and waited for Tristan to fall asleep. It took a while ‘cause he… he….”

  “He wanted to have sex?” Scott hated making her say it, but they needed it for the tape.

  “If you could call it that,” Audrey said bitterly.

  Scott knew that was the closest they were ever going to get to her admitting that Tristan raped her.

  “And after?” Will prompted.

  “I waited ‘til he was asleep then I went downstairs to the study. I was looking for bank statements for the joint account. It was the only account with my name on, but I didn’t even know the account number. The relief when I found the right statement. I thought we were home free.”

  “But you weren’t?” Scott’s gut tightened as she shook her head.

  “When I opened the study door, he was waiting for me.” She closed her eyes. “He punched me in the stomach, then grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me back up the stairs to the bedroom. I heard Chris’ closet doors close as we passed his room and I remember thinking, please God let me be enough tonight.

  “He threw me on the bed, and I hit my head on the metal of the headboard. Things are a little fuzzy for a while after that, but when I regained focus, he was trying to tie me to the headboard with my belt. I had this sudden overwhelming feeling that if he succeeded, I was dead, so I kicked out at him. He punched me again then grabbed my hair and pulled my head right back and closed his other hand around my throat. That’s when Chris rushed into the room, screaming.” She opened her eyes and shook her head as if shaking the memory away, gripping tighter to Will’s hand. “Tristan turned as Chris ran into him and made a sound like he’d had the air knocked out of him. I didn’t know there was a knife until I saw the blood. Tristan fell on me, yelling it was all my fault and he was going to kill me, then kill my bastard. Chris stabbed him again, Tristan stumbled from the room and Chris followed him out to the stairs.”

  “Did Chris chase him down to the study?” Scott asked.

  “No. He ran in, crying and screaming, the knife in his hand, saying we had to get out before Tristan came back.”

  “And then?”

  “I calmed Chris down as best I could, then ran down the stairs to check on Tristan. There was so much blood…. I knew he was dead. Everything happened so fast after that. I cleaned Chris up, wiped the handle of the knife and rang 911. Then I showed Chris how to tie me to the headboard and waited.”

  “Why didn’t you just call the police?” Will said. “Why try to cover it up?”

  “Do you have children, Detective Harrison?” Audrey finally lifted her gaze.

  “No,” Will admitted.

  “I’d failed to protect Chris so many times before.” Tears welled in her dark brown eyes. “How could I let him saving my life, shape the rest of his?”

  “Well, gentlemen.” Bongiovi spoke for the first time since they’d sat down. “Where do we go from here?”

  “I’m afraid that’s up to the D.A.,” Scott replied. “As you are well aware.”

  Bongiovi looked directly at the two-way mirror behind Scott and Will. “I don’t think the D.A. would want to prosecute an eight-year-old boy and his abused mother this close to re-election.”

  “That is something you would have to discuss, in private,” Will said pointedly with a cold stare. He turned his attention back to Audrey. “Thank you for telling us your story, Audrey. If you’ll excuse us for a while, we need to speak to Mr. Bongiovi outside.”

  Scott followed Will and the lawyer out of the room and into the smaller room next door where Glenn and Ethan Collins, the Assistant District Attorney waited, having seen and heard everything for themselves.

  “Ethan?” Bongiovi said as soon as the door closed behind them.

  “She’s an accessory after the fact,” Ethan replied, his white blond hair brushing his collar as he shrugged.

  “You cannot be serious,” Scott spluttered.

  “Of course, I’m serious, McEnroe,” Ethan snipped. “Weren’t you listening? She confessed to covering up a murder.”

  “Of her physically abusive, bigamist husband!” Scott snapped back. “She should get the fucking key to the city!”

  “Scott,” Will murmured.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Bongiovi drawled. “If you charge her, you’ll have to charge the kid, and I know you’re not going to do that.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Ethan replied stoically.

  “Because you’re not an idiot. He’s eight. It would be justifiable homicide at best,” Bongiovi drawled. “There’s a history of domestic abuse with the medical records to prove it for her and the boy. Do you really want to put a victim of domestic abuse, a mother who panicked under extreme duress in order to protect her son after he saved her life, on the stand? There’s not a jury in the world that’s going to convict her of accessory after the fact. It’s unwinnable, Ethan, you’ll be a laughingstock, and you know it.”

  “Look,” Ethan said, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t like it any more than you do, but I can’t just let her walk out the door. I have to charge her with something!”

  “What about tampering with evidence?” All eyes shifted to Scott.

  “What did you say?” Bongiovi asked, narrowing his gaze.

  “Um… I said… um… tampering with evidence?”

  “Hmm,” Ethan said, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  “That could work.” Bongiovi looked impressed. “Not bad, Turner.”

  “I’d still have to take her to court,” Ethan pointed out. “But it’s a Class E non-violent felony. If she pleads guilty to tampering, I’ll request sentencing is deferred for twelve months with the usual provisions.”

  “Which are?” Will asked.

  “If she stays out of trouble and attends her meetings with the appointed probation officer, all ch
arges will be dismissed with prejudice.”

  “What about Chris?” Scott looked at Ethan.

  Ethan sighed heavily. “The only thing that kid needs, is a shit ton of therapy. In fact, I’ll suggest it’s court mandated. We’ve got some fantastic child therapists within the court system.”

  “I agree. Abbi Richards is a wonderful children’s counsellor,” Bongiovi replied. “But what happens tonight? Are we really going to take her away from her son and lock her in a cell?”

  “What about a desk appearance ticket?” Glenn said to Bongiovi. “We can process her, then release her on the understanding that you, Bongiovi, will produce her for arraignment tomorrow.”

  “Ethan?” Bongiovi arched a brow. “What do you think?”

  “A DAT? Sweet Jesus.” Ethan shook his head and groaned low in his throat. “Have you any idea how far I’d be sticking my neck out if I agree to this?”

  “We won’t tell, if you don’t,” Scott countered.

  “I’ll be sure to offer the D.A. your ‘the dog ate my homework’ defense when I’m clearing out my desk,” Ethan said sarcastically. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine. Go talk to your client, Daryl.”

  “With pleasure.”

  “You should go, too, Will,” Glenn instructed. “She trusts you.”

  Scott breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind Bongiovi and Will. It was the best deal Audrey was going to get, and it meant she and Chris would be able to leave together, which was all that mattered. Tiffany’s face skittered across the surface of his mind and he closed his eyes. They’d been able to help Audrey and Chris, but there wasn’t anything they could do for Tiffany and her son.

  “What?” Scott opened his eyes at the sound of Glenn’s voice. “This is a great result.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “I was just thinking about Tiffany and TJ,” Scott confessed.

  “Did you meet them?” Ethan asked, turning to look at Scott.