After wolfing down their meals, Hector and Marlee drove back to Johnny’s home. He answered the door and was still in his Target uniform of a red polo shirt and khaki pants. The hickeys on his neck from the previous day were covered with flesh colored Band Aids. “Hi,” he said with a flat tone as he motioned them inside. The living room was furnished with a large-screen television and three overstuffed recliners.
As they all sat down, Marlee gave the same spiel to Johnny that she used on Violet and Paula earlier. He listened intently and nodded as she spoke, but didn’t speak and gave no hint of emotion.
“I already talked to Paula and Violet. They both said you had questions about adoption,” Johnny said, circumventing the lead up questions the professor and the detective were going to use to build rapport.
“Yeah,” Marlee began. “We’re trying to fill in some gaps and wanted to know a bit about the backgrounds of each of the students that took Criminal Justice To Go. One of the questions we’ve been asking everyone is if they are adopted.”
Marlee and Hector waited for Johnny to answer. He looked around the room, contemplating his answer. Finally he spoke in a quiet tone. “I’m not adopted. My parents are my birth parents and I look like both of them. Here’s a picture that was taken at their 30th anniversary party last fall.” Johnny handed Marlee a photo encased in a silver frame. Glancing at the photo of a middle aged couple seated with two males behind them, Marlee could see that the boys did indeed resemble both of their parents, albeit in different ways. Johnny had his mother’s eyes and fair complexion but his father’s build and premature baldness. Most of his brother’s facial features resembled the father’s but his smile was identical to the mother’s.
“What’s your brother’s name?” Marlee asked as she handed the photo to Hector for his perusal.
“Jason. He’s ten years older than me,” Johnny stated.
Hector handed the photo back to Johnny. “Yes, you do look like both parents. So does your brother. What can you tell us about Paula and Violet Stone? They’re both good friends of yours from what we hear.”
Johnny’s answer did not reveal any new information on the Stone family. If he knew or had suspicions about Violet’s adoption, he didn’t share them. “Why all the questions about adoption? How does that have anything to do with the murder investigation?”
“I’m not at liberty to discuss that part of the investigation,” Hector said, straightening his posture in an effort to appear more professional.
“I’ve never seen routine questions about adoption in any of the cop shows I watch,” Johnny said pointedly.
“You can’t believe everything you see on TV, Johnny,” Hector said sternly as he rose from the comfy recliner. This kid was sharp and already smelled a rat. “We need to be going now. If you think of anything about the case, just give me a call.” Hector fished a business card from his wallet and handed it to Johnny.
As they were leaving, Johnny said, “I know you can’t tell me, but I think you’re looking at the students from Criminal Justice To Go to figure out which one of us killed Roxie.”
In the car, Hector turned toward Marlee. “Johnny is a smart guy. I wonder which student he thinks did it?”
“Johnny is sharp, even though he slacks off in his classes. It might be worth coming back to talk to him again after he’s had some time to think about this. Maybe he will remember something or point us in a direction we hadn’t thought of yet. Hector nodded in agreement.
Before driving to Mobridge to meet with the Stones, Hector swung by Marlee’s house to see if there were any messages from Ira Green on the answering machine. Marlee jogged inside and her heart skipped a beat when the flashing light indicated she had two new messages. Depressing the play button, she awaited the first message. It was a recorded call from Weight Watchers reminding her that it was swimsuit season and she should join their organization so she would be beach ready. Marlee deleted the first message in disgust and listened to the second message.
“McCabe, it’s Ira Green,” barked the familiar voice. “I’ll be in town at nine. Meet me then at Easy Street. I’ll talk to your cop boyfriend too, but not any other cops.” The message ended as abruptly as it began.
Marlee locked the house and jogged back to Hector’s car to report Green’s message. “Great,” he said. “We have plenty of time to drive to Mobridge, interview the Stones, drive back, and maybe even go out for supper before we meet Green.”
“Ooooh, we’re going out for supper? How romantic. Where are we going? Will it be as nice as Bernie’s?” Marlee teased. Hector just smiled as he pulled the car away from the curb.
The drive to Mobridge was uneventful. They used the lack of visual stimulation along the highway to process the details of the murder investigation and all the loose ends associated with it. As they coasted along Highway 12, Marlee put her thoughts into words. “We’re going with the premise that Roxie was either killed by one of the students in the Criminal Justice To Go class because he or she was given up for adoption by Roxie or that Ira Green did it because she indirectly got him fired when she filed a sexual harassment claim against him.”
Hector nodded in agreement. “We really don’t have any other motives that have surfaced.”
“Here’s what’s bugging me about Ira Green as the killer: people get fired all the time. They usually don’t go ballistic and poison someone over it. Roxie wasn’t the direct cause of Green’s termination, but if they hadn’t started looking into his background after Roxie filed the harassment suit, MSU administration might not have figured out he was a big fraud. It all seems a bit weak to me.”
“Agreed,” said Hector, keeping his eyes on the road. “But you’re operating from the standpoint that the job was all Green had to lose. He has pending law suits against him for other sexual harassment claims, he may have been worried about this being the final straw with his wife, and with another academic termination on his record he would have a tough time finding a new job. Plus, there’s the financial aspect. All of this has to be costing him a ton of money and he’s unemployed now. I think when you factor those things in, his motive to kill Roxie becomes a lot stronger.”
“True. I keep coming back to my intuition, which is telling me he didn’t do it. I know intuition isn’t worth much, but it’s how I operate. Plus, I really dislike Ira Green, so I really wouldn’t mind if he was the killer.” Marlee fidgeted with the seatbelt strap as she thought more about it. “It doesn’t fit that he’s the killer.”
“We’ll have a better sense of what’s going on after we meet with him tonight,” Hector said.
“So the other premise we’re working from is that one of the students in the class was Roxie’s adopted child,” Marlee recalled.
“This theory is the weak one. Lots of kids are adopted and it impacts them in different ways, but killing the parent is pretty farfetched.”
Marlee was having a multitude of feelings she couldn’t sort out. She knew there was an answer in the information they already had but she couldn’t bring it to the surface. Her mind wasn’t through making sense of it yet. She cleared her throat before she began to talk. “For someone to kill their birth parent, they’d be dealing with a lot of rage and abandonment issues. Maybe their adoptive home wasn’t great and they blame being abused and neglected on Roxie giving them up for adoption.”
Hector wasn’t convinced. “But why wouldn’t they just confront Roxie? That seems a lot more practical than killing her.”
“Whoever killed Roxie didn’t want her around anymore. It could be because they hated her or were seeking revenge. Or it could be because she knew information about something that the killer didn’t want known,” Marlee said. “At least that’s what it looks like from the two theories we’ve been dealing with.”
“Clear as mud,” said Hector.
There’s only one person you can depend on and that’s yourself. Not one hundred percent of the time, but most of the time.
Chapter 19
&nbs
p; It was nearly 5:00 p.m. when Marlee and Hector pulled into the Stone’s driveway. Their ranch style home was situated on the very edge of the town of Mobridge, population 3,452. Similar ranch homes stood to the east of the Stone residence while a pasture with grazing cows and their newborn calves was located on the west. A green Toyota Camry was parked in the driveway and Marlee could hear a television through the open windows facing the street.
“They’re home.” Marlee was pleased that the trip hadn’t been a waste of time.
Climbing the front steps and approaching the door, Marlee heard sounds of sizzling and caught a whiff of fried onions and peppers. Someone was cooking supper and it made her hungry even though they’d just eaten. Hector rang the doorbell and they both stood off to the side of the door. Law enforcement training had taught both of them not to stand directly in front of an opening door. It was easy for the person opening the door to knock you off the front steps or draw a weapon. Although Marlee hadn’t been a probation officer for years, the safety training still made some of her actions automatic.
A tall woman with wavy light brown hair opened the door with a questioning look. She appeared to be in her early forties. Her makeup and hair were impeccable and she wore a fitted pale yellow dress which showed off her slim physique. “Yes?” she asked with caution when she realized she did not know Marlee or Hector.
Marlee and Hector introduced themselves and asked to talk with Mrs. Stone and her husband. The color drained from her face as she motioned them toward the kitchen with a shaking hand. Her husband stood at the stove stirring the contents of a cast iron skilled.
“Burt, turn that off. The police are here to talk to us,” she said.
Burt whirled around, the sizzling from the skillet having blocked out the sounds of visitors in the home. He was a hefty man in his forties with thick glasses and a sunburned face. His brown hair was sparse, revealing a sunburn on his scalp as well. Burt was also well-dressed; wearing navy slacks, a white shirt, and a loosened navy tie. His suit jacket hung over the back of a kitchen chair.
“What’s going on, Connie?” he asked his wife.
“They want to talk to us about an investigation,” Connie Stone said, motioning for Marlee and Hector to sit at the kitchen table. She joined them, placing her hands before her on the white lace table cloth until she realized they were still shaking. Folding her hands in her lap, Connie made attempts at small talk while Burt turned the fire off on the stove and came over to join them. “We just got back from a graduation party and were making a quick supper before we go to a fundraiser at the VFW tonight.”
Hector began the questions without further ado. “We’re investigating the death of Roxie Harper. She was a fellow student in the class Paula and Violet took. We’ve talked to both of the girls and the topic of adoption came up. Paula told us Violet was adopted but she doesn’t know it.”
Burt’s jaw dropped at hearing the news and he turned to look at his wife. Connie took a deep breath. “Yes, Paula called me after she talked to you earlier today. Both girls already told me about the murder investigation plus it’s been on TV. I really don’t know what my girls have to do with any of it. Neither of them saw anything. They told you everything they know!” Connie attempted righteous indignation but failed miserably.
“Some questions came up during our conversations with Paula and Violet about adoption. We want to hear more about it. Specifically, we want information on Violet’s birth mother and how the adoption took place,” said Marlee.
Burt and Connie looked at each other and neither spoke for a full minute. When Connie broke the silence she did so with confidence. “Yes, Violet is adopted. It was a family adoption. Violet’s birth mother never wanted to have the baby but by the time she found out she was pregnant it was too late for her to get an abortion. We wanted more children but after I had Paula the doctors said it would be very unlikely that I would be able to carry a baby to full term. Paula wasn’t two yet when we found out about Violet’s mom and decided it would be the best for everyone if we adopted her. It was all very simple.”
“What was the name of Violet’s mom?” Hector asked pointedly.
“Roxie Harper,” murmured Burt, looking down at the table. During the course of the brief conversation, his sunburn had turned to a sickening pale.
“So Roxie was your sister?” Hector asked, looking at Mrs. Stone.
“Yes, Roxie was my younger sister. She was a wild child as long as I can remember. When she came home from college and was pregnant, Mama and Daddy were beside themselves. Burt and I had been married for about four years, had Paula, and wanted another baby. It just seemed to be the best thing.”
“And Roxie was okay with it too?” asked Marlee.
“She agreed to the adoption at first, but then after it was official she changed her mind. About a year after Violet was born Roxie dropped out of college and moved back in with Mama and Daddy for a few months. She used to come over all the time to see Violet. It got to be too much, and we decided Roxie couldn’t have contact with her any more. It would be too confusing for Violet as she got older and Paula was already asking questions. Roxie took off and we rarely heard from her,” Connie recalled.
“When did you last hear from her?” Hector asked, jotting down notes in his Moleskine notebook.
“Hmmm… I don’t remember. Burt, do you remember?” asked Connie.
“No, it’s been several years. She never went back to Peachtree. That’s the little town in Georgia where we grew up. We got a letter from Roxie when Violet was about three years old. She wanted to see Violet. The letter was sent from a women’s correctional facility in Virginia. We wrote back and told her she couldn’t have any contact with Violet. Ever.”
“Why is it that you never told Violet she was adopted?” Marlee asked.
“It never seemed like the right time. We were going to tell both of the girls before Violet started kindergarten, but she was so little. We didn’t want to upset her. She and Paula have always been the best of friends and we didn’t want that destroyed,” said Connie.
“How would that destroy the relationship between Paula and Violet? They could still be the best of friends. They would still be cousins, after all,” Hector stated.
“We were afraid Violet would want to meet Roxie and Roxie might try to take her away from us. Roxie was always a bit impetuous and unstable. Then she was in prison for what I don’t know. Having Roxie step into Violet’s life would’ve been horrible. There would never be a good time for Roxie to be involved in our family,” Burt said, matter of factly.
“But if Roxie knew where you lived, she could come by anytime whether you liked it or not, right?” Marlee inquired.
“She didn’t know we lived here. We moved since the last time she wrote to us,” Connie said.
Hector and Marlee looked at each other, confused. “Where did the adoption take place?” Marlee asked, attempting to put together a time line of events.
“In Wyoming. We’ve lived in several places because of our work,” said Connie.
“What is it you both do?” Hector asked.
“I’m a teacher’s aide and Burt works for the city of Mobridge.” The color still had not returned to Connie’s face.
“You weren’t transferred were you? I mean, the relocations were all your choice?” Hector asked.
Connie nodded, not giving up any information on their moves. Burt fidgeted with his already loosened necktie as he looked at his wife.
“Did you know Roxie was living in Elmwood and attending MSU?” Hector asked.
“No. Not until after she died and we heard about it on the news,” Burt said. “We had no idea she lived so close or that she was taking some of the same classes as our girls.”
“So will you still keep Violet’s adoption a secret now that Roxie’s dead?” Marlee asked.
“Oh, yes! There’s no reason to stir up everything now. Paula won’t tell and no one else knows. Please don’t tell Violet any of this,” Connie begged
as she looked at Hector.
“I can’t promise that, Mrs. Stone, but we won’t go out of our way to tell her,” Hector stated.
Marlee and Hector left the Stones looking upset and disheveled. Half an hour ago they looked like middle-aged models for a clothing catalog. Now they were rumpled, confused, and out of sorts. As soon as the professor and the detective drove away, Connie Stone placed a call.
Hector navigated the car back toward Elmwood, while Marlee thought out loud. “I think Connie and Burt Stone were more worried about the impact Roxie would have on their lives rather than just Violet’s.”
“I got the same impression,” Hector said, glancing over. “Adoptions usually don’t turn into this type of a mess.”
“It seems Roxie would’ve had some involvement in the Stone family’s life, regardless of whether the Stones wanted it or not. After all, it was a family adoption. The parents could’ve told Roxie where Violet was living,” Marlee said.
Hector pulled his cell phone from a cup holder on the counsel. Pushing one number he made contact. “Yeah, can you check on an adoption for me? State of Wyoming. Yeah, I need the information as soon as possible. I need you to check on something else too. Is there a record of Roxie being in prison?” He clicked the phone off after giving the names and details of Violet’s adoption and Roxie’s imprisonment. “Now we need to check on Roxie and Connie’s parents. Let’s see what they have to say about the adoption and Roxie.”
Marlee nodded. Connie said the adoption took place in Wyoming, but that her parents were now in Peachtree, Georgia. “What does Wyoming have to do with this? Neither of the Stones are from there. It doesn’t sound like they lived there either. Roxie lived with her parents for a time after Violet’s birth and the Stones were nearby because Connie said they had to sever Roxie’s contact with Violet. Was that in Georgia?”
“I don’t know. The Stones’ story really isn’t adding up,” said Hector as he slowed the car and pulled into the driveway leading to a farm and putting the car in reverse. “Let’s say we head back to the Stone home and follow up with a few questions.”
Murder to Go Page 18