by J A Whiting
Jay and Shelly offered condolences and Jay began the interview. “When did you last speak with you mother?”
Aubrey seemed to collect herself by taking in a breath and straightening her posture. “Just before she went out for the evening, on the day she --.” Aubrey cleared her throat. “On the day she died.”
“How was your mother’s mood that day?” Jay asked.
“She seemed normal.” Aubrey made steady eye contact with Jay. “She was her usual self. She always had a lot to do.”
“And where was the rest of the family during the evening?” Jay questioned.
“I was here at home doing homework. My brother, Mason, was at a friend’s house for a while and then he came home. Dad was out. He went shopping for new boots.”
“What time was it when your brother and father arrived home?”
Aubrey screwed up her face. “Let’s see. Mason came home about 8pm and Dad came in around 10:30pm, I’d say.”
“Where did your father go to shop?”
“He went to the Country Mall in Stockville.” Aubrey gave a nod.
“I believe the mall closes at 9pm. Did your father mention if he stopped somewhere on the way back?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“What kind of mood was he in when he got home?”
“The usual. I was upstairs in my room doing homework. He called up the stairs to me and told me he was home.” Aubrey gave a shrug. “I told him I was working on an essay.”
“And how about Mason?” Jay asked. “How was his mood when he got home?”
“Mason was a little cranky. He had a lot of work to do for school, but he didn’t feel like doing it.”
“Did you talk to him when he got back?”
“He stopped at my bedroom door. He complained about school. That was it. Then he went to his room. He put some music on. I could hear it through the wall.”
“What about the day?” Jay asked. “Did anything out the ordinary happen before you got home from school?”
“Nothing. It was a regular day.”
Your mother and father went to work?”
Aubrey nodded. “Yeah. Mason and I went to school and came home on the bus at the usual time. Mason went to a friend’s house for a while and I stayed home.”
“Did your mother arrive home at her usual time?”
“She did. Well, she stopped at the mini-mart for a few things. She was going to our grandma’s house for dinner so she got some burgers and rolls for us. Mom and Grandma and my aunt usually got together for dinner once a week, usually Friday nights. She was going to do some shopping and errands after she had dinner with Gram.”
“Who made your dinner?” Jay asked.
“I was going to, but Dad came home a little early and he cooked the burgers. We ate together and then Dad left to go out. Mason ate at his friend’s house.”
“Did your mother cancel her plans with your grandmother before she left the house?”
Aubrey blinked. “I didn’t know she cancelled her plans. Where did she go?”
“We wondered if you overheard anything about that,” Jay told the teenager.
“I didn’t, no.” Aubrey’s eyes were huge. “Mom didn’t go to Grandma’s for dinner?”
“She didn’t. She rescheduled dinner for the next evening.”
“Why didn’t she go?” Aubrey tilted her head, concern etched into her forehead.
“We aren’t sure. She told your grandmother she had things to do. She had to give someone a ride some place.”
Aubrey considered the comment.
“Do you know which friend it might be that she needed to drive somewhere?” Jay asked.
“She didn’t tell me. I don’t know who she was driving. Did she tell my grandma who it was?”
“Your grandmother didn’t know who she was meeting.” Jay gave the girl an easy smile. “Who were some of your mom’s friends?”
“Peggy and Monica … and sometimes she went out with a friend named Leena, but I’ve never met her. Mom met Leena at the gym.”
“Your mother worked out?” Jay asked.
Aubrey nodded. “Mom went to the gym before work twice a week. She used the treadmill. Sometimes she took a yoga class.”
“That’s where she met Leena?”
“Yeah. About a two months ago.”
Jay asked for the last names of the three women who were friends of Emma. Aubrey told her Peggy and Monica’s last names, but she did not know Leena’s.
“You’ve met Peggy and Monica?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Had your mother seemed worried about anything lately?”
“No.” Aubrey shook her head. “She seemed normal.”
“Did she complain about anyone? Did she have an argument with anyone?” Jay asked.
“She didn’t tell me anything like that,” Aubrey said.
“How did your father and mother get along?”
“Good. They got along good.”
“Did you ever hear or see them argue?” Jay asked.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Did they seem annoyed with one another lately?”
Aubrey gave a shrug. “Maybe, once in a while.”
“Did they ever have words with each other over anything? Money? The people they hung out with? Work schedules? Chores around the house?” Jay asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Did your mother ever confide in you something about your father?”
A look of confusion washed over Aubrey’s face. “Like what sort of thing? What do you mean?”
“Nothing in particular.” Jay changed the subject. “How did you and your mother get along?”
Aubrey’s face lit up. “We got along great. I loved her. She was the best.”
“Did you get into arguments sometimes? Over clothes, boys, schoolwork?”
“We didn’t. I know a lot of teenagers don’t get along with their parents, but we did. We talked, did things together.” Aubrey’s face fell and Jay and Shelly could see some tears gather. The young woman bit her lower lip and then took in a few deep breaths. “My mom was really good to me,” she said in a tiny voice and twisted her index finger in some strands of her long hair.
Shelly’s heart ached for Aubrey’s loss.
Jay moved the topic of conversation to something else. “Was your mother happy in her job?”
Aubrey’s eyebrows raised slightly. “She liked working at the resort. She’d been there for a long time.”
“Did she get along with her co-workers?” Jay asked.
“Yeah, she did. She told me a few times that she was really lucky to have that job. It was close to home, it paid well, the people were nice to work with. She enjoyed the work.”
“I understand she had a second job?” Jay asked.
“For a little while, she did. She worked part-time, in the evenings, at Windsor Manufacturing over in Rollingwood.”
“Why did she need to work two jobs?” Jay asked.
“Mom wanted the extra money to pay off some bills.”
“Was she able to pay off the bills like she wanted to?” Jay and Shelly knew the bills probably had to do with Charlie’s gambling.
“I think so,” Aubrey said. “The job was temporary.”
“Had your mother finished up working there?”
“The job ended a couple of weeks ago,” Aubrey said. “Mom was glad it was over. She went out with some friends to celebrate.”
“Did she go out with Peggy and Monica?” Jay asked.
“I’m pretty sure they went … and some other people, too.”
“Do you know who they were?” Jay asked.
“I don’t know if she ever said. I’m not sure. People from work maybe.”
“Did your father go to the celebration?”
“The get-together was only for women. Mom said so.”
“Did your father work two jobs to help with the bills? Did he pick up extra shifts at the hospital?” Jay asked.
Aubrey s
hook her head. “No. He worked his regular schedule.”
“I wonder why he didn’t work extra to help with the bills?” Jay pressed.
“I don’t know. Maybe the hospital didn’t have any extra time to give him?”
“That could be,” Jay nodded.
“When did your mother go out to celebrate?” Shelly asked the question.
Aubrey thought for a moment. “It was about two weeks ago. It was a Tuesday night. I remember because my friend invited me over to watch one of my favorite shows.”
“Did you get home before your mom?” Shelly questioned.
“I did.”
“Can you remember when your mom got home? Did she mention who was there at the restaurant?”
“She didn’t.”
“Did she tell you about the celebration?”
“No, she didn’t say anything. Mom was really sick when she got home. She came down with the flu or something. She could barely crawl to her room.”
“That’s terrible,” Shelly said. “Did the flu last long?”
“Mom was in bed for two days. She could barely speak she was so sick. The shades had to stay down in her room … she had a bad headache. She slept for the two whole days.”
“Was it a migraine?” Jay asked.
“Mom didn’t get migraines. It was a headache from the flu, I guess.”
“Was she okay after that?”
“She got up and was able to walk around and have something to eat. After taking another day to rest, she went back to work.”
“Did any of the rest of you catch it?” Shelly asked.
“No, none of us. We were lucky. Mom was the only one who got sick.”
Shelly couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the story didn’t seem right.
7
Shelly worked at the long stainless steel table on one wall of the diner’s kitchen. The kitchen served both the diner on one side and the resort bakery on the other. Shelly had been hired to bake breads and sweets for both places and she enjoyed the early morning banter with Henry, the diner’s cook.
In their early seventies, Henry and his wife, Melody, had been leasing the diner from resort management for years and had been living in Paxton Park for even longer.
“What are you making this morning?” Henry asked his kitchen buddy while he manned the grill cooking eggs, bacon, pancakes, and home fries for the early customers.
“Sweet rolls, a chocolate cake, and some pies.” Shelly added eggs to a mixture in the large bowl.
Before the diner’s doors opened for the day, Henry, Melody, and Shelly had discussed the death of Emma Pinkley.
“That poor woman,” Melody clucked. “She must have run into a nut.”
“Why do you think it was random?” Shelly asked. “Couldn’t the killer be someone she knew?”
“Emma was a good person, friendly, easy-going, nice to everyone. Who would want to kill her? She’s the last person someone would hate or have a grudge against.” Melody shook her head as she filled the salt and pepper shakers. “It had to be someone who didn’t know her.”
Shelly considered the possibility that an unknown assailant approached Emma and shot the woman … that sort of thing happened everywhere, big cities, small towns. An unlucky person crossed paths with a killer looking for a victim. Is that what happened to the well-liked, middle-aged accountant? Did someone stand by their car on the side of the road and pretend they needed help? Did Emma stop to assist? Is that the reason she was shot while sitting in her own car? For no other reason than having had the misfortune of running into someone with murder on their mind? Shelly let out a sigh.
“How did you know Emma?”
“She and I were in a book group together,” Melody said. “Last year, we were in the same watercolor painting class.”
Turning to face Melody with an expression of surprise, Shelly said, “I didn’t know you painted.”
Melody waved her hand around. “I’m not good at it, but I find it relaxing.”
“She is good at it,” Henry said from the grill. “She’s too modest.”
Melody smiled and shook her head. “I have a fan. One. But Henry doesn’t count because he thinks I can do no wrong.”
“Well, she can do wrong,” Henry said keeping his eyes on the eggs he was frying. “But I pretend I don’t notice. That keeps both of us happy.”
Shelly chuckled at the older couple’s banter.
“Do you know Emma’s husband?” Shelly asked.
Melody’s facial expression changed as she stacked coffee mugs on a tray. “I’ve met him. I’ve also heard about him.”
“What have you heard?” Shelly looked sideways at Melody.
“Charlie has issues. He loves to gamble. He loves to go out and have a few drinks. I’m not sure the words a few accurately describe his drinking. I’ve also heard he had an affair.”
“Emma knew all these things?” Shelly asked.
“She told me about their financial mess,” Melody said. “She told me about Charlie’s gambling. It sort of slipped out one day when we were setting up for the book club at the library. Emma started to cry. She was embarrassed about becoming emotional, but she wanted me to understand why she’d broken down in tears so she gave me the two-minute condensed version of Charlie’s gambling problem and what it had done to their finances.”
Shelly leaned her hip against the work table. “Did she ever speak about it again?”
“No, and I didn’t want to bring it up. I thought if she wanted to talk, she would have initiated a conversation. I got the feeling she regretted revealing the problems so I let it alone.”
“How did you hear that Charlie had an affair?” Shelly asked. “Emma didn’t mention that to you, did she?”
“Gosh, no. I heard it through the grapevine. I don’t know if Emma was aware of Charlie’s antics or not.”
“I wonder if she knew, but didn’t want to admit it to anyone,” Shelly said.
“That’s very possible.”
“Do you know who he was involved with?” Shelly asked.
“I didn’t hear names.” Melody gave Shelly a look and rolled her eyes. “I heard he might have been involved with more than one woman.”
Shelly groaned and went back to making a pie crust. “Do you know any of Emma’s friends?”
“I know Monica. I think they’ve been friends for a very long time. She comes in here for coffee or breakfast most mornings. She hasn’t been in since Emma died though.”
Shelly was surprised to hear that Monica was a diner regular. Staying in the back workroom to bake, she never had the chance to get a good look at the diner’s clientele and rarely interacted with any of them. “What’s Monica like?”
“Monica’s a park ranger. She lives in Paxton Park, but she works on the far north side of the mountain. I like her. She’s always nice to talk with.”
“I’d like to talk to her about Emma,” Shelly said. “Would you point her out to me whenever she comes in again?”
Melody didn’t ask Shelly why she wanted to talk to Monica. She just nodded and said, “I sure will.”
As it turned out, Monica came to the diner for breakfast that morning and chose to sit in a booth up against the far wall. She sat on the bench with her back to the rest of the room.
Melody reported that the woman usually preferred one of the tables in the middle of the diner in order to chat with the other customers. “She probably doesn’t want to hear the chatter and gossip about Emma.”
Shelly asked, “Should I wait for another day to talk to her?”
“I’ll introduce you. Play it by ear. If Monica seems uncomfortable, then cut it short.”
After the introduction, Shelly sat down opposite the park ranger. “I hope you don’t mind if I talk to you about Emma. I was in town that night. I was right there when her car crashed. We wanted to help, but….”
Monica took a deep breath and bit her lower lip.
Shelly went on. “I … well, it was ter
ribly upsetting to witness the crash. I only met Emma a few times. I’ve heard everyone say she was a really nice person. How did you know her?”
Monica trained her gaze on her plate. “Emma grew up in Paxton Park. My family moved here when I was thirteen. Emma was the first friend I made. I was shy back then. Emma was friendly to me on the first day of school. We hit it off right away.”
“You and Emma were friends for a long time.” Shelly gave the woman a gentle smile.
“We were.” Monica gripped her water glass. “I can’t believe what’s happened. You didn’t notice anyone suspicious that night, did you?”
Shelly shook her head. “Really? The whole thing happened so fast, I wouldn’t have noticed anyone who seemed suspicious. I felt dazed from seeing the accident. Everyone’s focus that night was on wanting to help Emma.”
Monica let out a long breath of disappointment. “From what I’ve heard, no one seems to have seen a thing.”
“The police think Emma was shot within a three to five-mile radius of where the car crashed. If that’s the case, she was probably shot in a less-crowded location. Maybe somewhere more isolated.”
“And then she drove into town?” Monica asked. “I heard people talking about that, but I didn’t think it was possible for someone to drive for miles after being so badly injured.”
“The medical examiner believes it could be done,” Shelly said. “It wouldn’t take very long to drive a few miles.”
“You think Emma was going for help?”
“Maybe, or she was just trying to get away from her attacker.” Shelly paused for a few moments. “Did Emma seem distracted by anything lately? Worried, anxious? Feeling down?”
“Not really,” Monica said. “She’d been working two jobs. She was pretty worn out by the schedule. She was quieter than usual when we got together last. I chalked that up to her fatigue.”
“When did you see her last?” Shelly inquired.
“About two weeks ago. I had to go to Boston for some training the week before Emma died so I didn’t see her at all that week. We texted almost every day though.”