by Leslie Wolfe
That final argument must’ve hit home, because his shoulders dropped a little, and he stepped sideways, making room for her to pass by through the narrow corridor. “All right, grill her some more. I’m guessing that’s what you want to do?”
“And then some,” she replied, unable to contain a smile.
With Erin sleeping in the nap room with her sister, and the early hour of day with no suspects in custody, the front interview room was open, and that’s where she took Marleen Montgomery. The woman looked pissed, walking with her chin thrust out and her back straight, waving the court order in her gloved hand like a fan.
She wore another scarf, this time one with a flowery oriental pattern in shades of burgundy, gold, and dark blue, wrapped tightly around her neck and knotted as if it became loose something terrible could happen. The colors of the scarf went harmoniously with the elegant, dark blue business suit and her fine burgundy kid gloves with purse and pumps to match.
Kay invited her inside the interview room, then closed the door.
“I don’t see why the delay, Detective,” she said, raising her voice. “I have a court order—”
“Please, take a seat,” Kay said, sitting down across from her.
Hesitantly, the woman pulled the metallic chair away from the table and examined it with a critical glare. “Mind if I stand? I won’t be here that long.”
We’ll see about that, Kay almost said out loud. I might want to keep you for twenty-five-to-life. “Suit yourself,” she replied instead.
She stood in front of Kay, not pacing, not flexing one knee, simply standing straight. “What’s this about?”
“Where is your husband, Mrs. Montgomery?”
She frowned ever so slightly, a brief look of confusion clouding her steeled eyes. “Traveling for business. Why?”
“What kind of business is that?”
“You might’ve heard our family has a construction company,” she replied, the sarcasm in her voice heavy. “He’s visiting vendors for next year’s supply.”
“Tell me more, please. What vendors, specifically? And where?”
She sighed, rolling her eyes. “My husband and I manage the supply chain for the business. I manage shipments, paperwork, and payments, but he goes out there and chooses granite, drywall, flooring, and so on. Again, why do you ask?”
Again, Kay ignored her question. Marleen was starting to become unnerved, just like she wanted her to be. “Which specific vendors is he visiting with this time?”
From annoyed, the woman’s look turned wary. She spoke slowly, carefully choosing her words. “Last week, he visited with a vendor in New Mexico, for granite countertops. Then he was off to Texas, for appliances and light fixtures, a wholesale dealer. Finally, he was going to look at a piece of land just north of Marin County; Avery sent him. He wants to bid on that land and build acre-lot houses.” She paused for a moment, carefully watching Kay, as if to tell her she was on to her game. “If you want their names, I can provide that.”
“When’s the last time you spoke with your husband?”
That simple question threw her off. A cloud of concern darkened her glare. She veered her eyes quickly, but not fast enough for Kay to miss the panic written in them. “Um, the weekend, I suppose.”
“You don’t normally speak on the phone when he’s away?”
No longer caring about the state of the furniture, she slammed her leather purse on the bent, stained table, right by the handcuff ring.
“How is that your concern, Detective?” The words came out in a menacing whisper.
“I’m really sorry to inform you, Mrs. Montgomery, that your husband was shot and killed last Saturday.” She’d softened her voice; after all, she was still a wife who was receiving the worst news of her life. Despite her suspicions, Kay empathized.
Speechless and turning pale under her carefully applied makeup, Marleen pulled the chair away from the table, its legs screeching loudly against the concrete floor. Then she let herself fall in it. Her eyes found Kay’s as she whispered, “How?”
“We’re still investigating,” Kay replied cautiously. She wasn’t just a victim’s wife; she was also a suspect.
Tears started to pool in the woman’s eyes, but her lips were pressed into a firm, angry line. “Why tell me now? If I hadn’t come here with this,” she slammed her palm down on the court order, “what, you would’ve never told me?”
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we only identified him late last night. We were going to come see you this morning, but you beat us to it.” Kay studied her for a moment. Grief and shock and anger collided on the woman’s face, taking turns at winning, but anger still held the upper hand. “I’m afraid there’s more bad news.”
Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out. She was bracing herself.
“We have reason to believe your husband was having an affair with Cheryl Coleman.”
“What? No, I can’t believe that!” she reacted, seemingly shocked at the idea.
“Tell me, Mrs. Montgomery, how did you kill Cheryl? Because now we know why.”
The woman stood abruptly, sending the chair toppling backward, ready to run out of there like a bat out of hell. She took a few steps toward the door, then froze in place. “What are you asking me? Are you deranged or something? You already checked my alibi. Maybe you’re just lazy, looking to pin this on the easiest opportunity.”
Kay remained calm, studying her reactions. She was still hiding something, although she couldn’t figure out why. But she didn’t seem to show guilt or fear when Cheryl’s death was brought up, only surprise. “There are ways people can kill without getting any blood directly on their hands,” Kay replied, testing another theory. Maybe she’d learned about her husband’s affair, and had contracted the kill, although Kay didn’t really believe it was a viable scenario, given Julie’s disappearance and the witnesses left behind. No contract killer worth his salt would leave witnesses.
Marleen shook her head so forcefully the knot of her silk scarf came undone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I had no idea,” her voice shattered, “that Dan was having an affair with… her.” A hint of resentment, of preexisting contempt toward the young mother. Unwanted tears flooded her eyes and started trailing down her face. She covered her open mouth with her gloved hand. “Oh, dear God, no.”
Kay allowed her a few moments to regain her composure. That came quicker than expected. Within less than a minute, her eyes were dry, her lips pressed tightly together, and her head held high.
“I believe we’re done here, yes?”
“What have you done with Julie?” Kay asked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs.
“Excuse me?” Her reaction seemed genuine.
“You never asked about her, so you must already know. Where is she?”
Marleen shook her head again, just once. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I believe it’s time—”
“Walk me through the last twenty-four hours with your husband,” Kay interrupted. “What happened? Step by step, every little detail, no matter how small.”
The woman sighed and weighed her options. She was probably considering calling her attorney, but that would’ve taken some time, and she seemed in a rush to leave. “It was Friday,” she eventually said. “We woke up at five-thirty, as always. Had our showers, made breakfast, he packed his bag and left.”
“Driving or flying?”
“Driving,” she replied immediately. “He was going to see the roof tile vendor first, then drive to Marin.”
“You didn’t mention a roof tile vendor when I asked earlier.”
She tilted her head at Kay, mockingly. “I forgot, so sue me. Better even, throw me in jail.”
“Then what happened?”
“He left, and I went to the office, where I stayed all day long, with witnesses present.”
“And you weren’t worried to not hear from your husband for a week?”
Her chest heaved in a forc
ed breath. She looked away briefly. “We were having some difficulties. I didn’t know about the affair with, um, Cheryl, but I suspected he was seeing someone.” She lowered her gaze, embarrassed. “It doesn’t take much to figure it out, when business trips start on Fridays and the first vendor appointment is the following Monday.” Her voice had turned bitter, venomous. When she raised her eyes, she looked at Kay with renewed anger, as if her husband’s indiscretions were somehow her fault. “If you’re not arresting me, this interview is over.”
She swiped her precious court order from the table and walked out of the door. Kay escorted her to the entrance.
Then she stopped in her tracks, staring Kay straight in the eye. “You’re wasting your time, Detective, and what little time poor Julie might still have, by chasing me and my family over this. You should be out there instead, finding who killed my husband.”
Kay felt something touch her leg. Looking down, she saw Heather, dragging her Lion King blanket on the floor and clasping her hand with trembling fingers. She must’ve snuck out. Instinctively, she pushed the girl behind her back, shielding her.
“I believe this is still valid,” Mrs. Montgomery said, waving the court order. “I’m taking the girls with me.”
Heather whimpered. At her feet, a puddle of liquid was growing, as the little girl stared at her great-aunt with eyes rounded in fear.
Behind her, Deputy Farrell was rushing over from the nap room, with an apologetic look on her face. Kay put Heather’s hand in Farrell’s. “Take her back, please. I’ll be right there.” Then she turned to Marleen Montgomery and said, “If court is what you want, then let’s see this judge.”
42
White
Julie felt she was floating through air, lifted by strong arms that whisked her away.
“Mom?” she called, her words merely a faint whisper that no one caught.
She was being laid down on a soft surface, seemingly gently, but she couldn’t feel much anymore. She willed herself to wake up, to stand and fight, to claw her way out of there just like she’d promised herself she would. Through a blur, she saw a man working on something by her side. She knew that man; she’d seen him before a couple of times, but couldn’t remember his name.
Weeping, she tried to grab his hand, to get him to look at her. Maybe if she saw his face, she’d remember his name. But he didn’t seem to care when her weak fingers swiped through the air, missing his arm, and fell limp by her body.
The man’s hands moved quickly, removing her clothing with deft gestures. He supported her head as he took off her blouse, and tugged gently as he pulled off her jeans. Scared, she fidgeted and squirmed, but she was no match for the man’s strong arms. One by one, the legs of her jeans were peeled off, then her underwear was next.
She wanted to scream, but all that came off her lips was a weak whimper. Desperate, she turned her blurry gaze to all the corners of the room, trying to see if there was anyone else there who could help her.
If her mother was still there.
Or had she imagined it all? Had she been alone all along?
That thought rushed a suffocating wave of panic over her. She tried to get up, but her weak arms wouldn’t support her. Without a word, the man slid his arm under her back and set her down again.
With the jolt of strength and awareness thanks to the adrenaline coursing through her body, she realized she was lying on the bed she’d been avoiding since she’d been brought there. The man must’ve pushed her body as he’d entered her prison cell, and she hadn’t even woken up to fight him. Everything had been in vain.
“Why…” she whispered, but he didn’t hear, or didn’t care to answer. His back was turned to her. She drew breath and tried to speak louder. “Why are you doing this?”
He turned and came closer, carrying something white in his arms, a dress that rustled like silk and shone in brilliant sparks.
“It’s the way it has to be, my dear,” he replied calmly, his voice somber and eerily soothing.
He set the dress on the bed by her side, and started adorning her. Everything he clad her with was white, and his hands were gentle and quick. At the edge of her consciousness a thought emerged. He’d done that before… more than once.
“Water… please,” she whispered when he was close enough to hear her.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes sad. “It doesn’t matter now. Soon it will be over.” He touched her hand in a soft caress. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
Then he propped her body up to slide the dress over her head. He lifted her hair over the collar and arranged the sleeves until they fell into place, then he helped her lie back against the pillows. He arranged the skirt, pulling it down and straightening it until it reached her ankles.
He combed her hair and put on a soft, creamy ChapStick, running it against his finger first, then tapping that finger against her lips.
Leaning over her, he adjusted a strand of her hair, tucking it over her ear, and whispered, “You’re ready. And you’re the most beautiful one yet.”
That moment, before everything went dark, she finally recognized him. Just as he picked her up from the bed and walked out of the basement carrying her in his arms, she asked him one more time, “Why?”
There was no answer.
43
In Court
The early morning drive to Redding had been a tense one. Marleen Montgomery had insisted on driving herself to Redding and back, but Kay didn’t agree. If she drove, she could shave a good chunk of time using her flashers and flooring it all the way down on the interstate despite the heavy downpour—but she wasn’t going to endanger the safety of a civilian by having to keep up, or waste any precious time by driving the speed limit. Instead, she insisted that the defiant Mrs. Montgomery take a seat in the back of her unmarked SUV.
Once they were finally on their way, Marleen did not stop bickering about the conditions she was forced to put up with and how she was treated, being hauled against her will onto the back seat of a police car, where all the thugs and the scum of the earth had sat before her.
“This is a brand-new detective’s vehicle,” Kay explained, at the end of her wits, yet still feeling sympathetic for the woman who’d just been notified her husband had been killed. “No scum of the earth has sat there yet.”
“But what if someone sees me?” she’d continued to argue, her voice an irritating high pitch reminding Kay of fingernails dragged against the blackboard.
“It’s an unmarked vehicle, Mrs. Montgomery. No one would know, unless you tell them. I’m not even using the flashers.”
“I still believe you somehow violated my rights, and I’ll ask my attorney how to hold you accountable for this, make you pay for it. It wouldn’t be fair if you got away with it, just wouldn’t.”
Kay repressed a frustrated groan. “It’s the fastest way both of us can deal with this issue and be done with it.”
“No,” she snapped. “The fastest way would’ve been for you to comply with this court order and release the girls to me. My attorney will—”
That was it; the woman’s obnoxiousness had eroded whatever sympathy Kay was feeling for the new widow, despite believing she withheld critical information that could’ve helped the detective find Julie. “At this point, I’ll have to strongly suggest that you remain silent.” Kay’s words fell heavily loaded with the meaning she knew the woman would find in them—the unspoken threat. Finally, there was some silence. Intimidated yet fuming, Mrs. Montgomery lay back against her seat scowling, arms crossed at her chest, and did, in fact, remain silent for the rest of the trip.
They discovered Judge Drysdale was still in chambers, his caseload full for the day, but Kay wasn’t willing to wait. She found her way to his chambers and knocked on the scratched door.
His Honor was sliding on his robe and was positively infuriated by the intrusion. A well-built man with at least fifty pounds extra on his frame, his face showed signs of habitual alcohol use. Red, almost purple b
lotches on his face and throat, right above the tight collar of his white shirt, were a clear indication he should have had his blood pressure checked. That skin discoloration so early in the morning could only mean he had drunk his share the night before, and managed to stay awake that morning with the help of stiff coffee, downed one Starbucks venti paper cup after another, as testified by the one already empty discarded in the trash basket by the door, and the other one on his desk. A fine dandruff dust covered the shoulders of his robe, and more flew off his head when he ran his hands through his short white hair, exasperated.
“When I’m woken up at five in the morning to issue a court order because cops, none other than the people who are paid to enforce the law, violate it and refuse to turn over custody to the rightful family members, I don’t really expect that order to be ignored.”
“Your Honor, I’m Detective Kay Sharp with the Mount Chester Sheriff’s Office. If you’d allow me to explain—”
“I’ve heard a lot about you, Detective.” He was almost shouting, while pointing at the two chairs in front of his desk. “You’re the one who’s been keeping two children hostage, locked up in the back of a police precinct, are you not?”
“Well, I—”
“Let me tell you something, Detective. I chose family law because there’s nothing in this world I care more about than the welfare of children,” he bellowed, standing behind his desk, leaning forward, towering over Kay menacingly. “Yet you jeopardize the welfare of these children, when there’s a respectable family, their grandparent and their aunt, willing to take them in and give them a good life.” He looked at her as if she were despicable beyond words. “How can you live with yourself?” He loosened his collar, the red blotches on his face turning more and more purple. “Make no mistake, I will hold you in contempt. What do you have to say for yourself?”
She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly constricted and dry. “Your Honor, we have reasons to believe Mrs. Montgomery, and potentially other members of the Montgomery family, are directly involved in the death of Cheryl Coleman and the abduction of Julie Montgomery.”