by Lisa Regan
But surely, as a successful model, Faye had had her pick of the most physically attractive men on the planet, and yet she had chosen Sebastian to marry. Not that Sebastian was unattractive, but he was the polar opposite of Corey Byrne. Was that the reason Faye had risked her marriage to be with Corey?
“Heidi told me what’s been going on,” Corey said, holding his hardhat in both hands. “I’m real sorry to hear about Krystal and uh, Faye—I, uh, is it true? Is she really dead?”
“I’m afraid she is, Mr. Byrne,” said Josie.
His gaze drifted to the floor. A muscle in his jaw quivered. In his hands, the plastic of the hardhat cracked.
“Mr. Byrne,” Gretchen said. “Do you need a moment?”
He shook his head but still did not speak.
Gently, Josie said, “We know that you cared for Faye. We know about the affair.”
Now he closed his eyes and tipped his head back. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed several times. He tossed his hardhat into the corner of the room and swiped at his eyes before opening them again and returning Josie’s gaze. “Does her husband know?”
“No,” Josie said. “Not that we’re aware of. We found out through other channels.”
Corey raised a brow. “Other channels, huh? So, Heidi then.” He shook his head. “Dammit. Can’t get nothing past that kid.”
Gretchen said, “She did the right thing by telling us, Mr. Byrne. We’ve got a murderer in this city, and he appears to be targeting the parents of the children who died in the West Denton bus accident.”
He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Okay, but then why do you need to talk to me? My kid survived that accident.”
Josie said, “In investigating Faye’s murder we have to look at every facet of her life. When is the last time you saw her?”
“The funerals,” he answered instantly. “I did go to the kids’ funerals.”
“You haven’t seen or spoken to her in over two years?” Gretchen asked.
“That’s correct. I wanted to—man, did I want to—but it didn’t seem right. She wanted to end it before the accident anyway, and I knew what Nevin meant to her. I knew that there was no room in her life for me anymore. Plus, it was so awkward, you know? I was the one parent whose kid survived. I told Heidi we could move anywhere she wanted but she wanted to stay here, so we did. The only parent from the crash who still talks to me is Dee. Thank God for Dee.”
Josie said, “When was the last time you saw Faye before the funerals?”
“The day of the crash.”
“You met?” Gretchen asked. “At ‘your spot’?”
He blinked. “Yeah. How’d you know that?”
“We’re in possession of a piece of notepaper that you and Faye Palazzo had been using to communicate during your affair. Your ‘spot’ was mentioned several times,” said Josie.
One side of Corey’s mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Heidi again,” he guessed. “Yeah, we were at our spot that day. Same time as always. Two p.m. We actually—we saw the bus pass us by, and I thought it looked like it was swerving. I told her, let’s follow it, but she said no, we couldn’t risk being seen together. There would be too many questions. I told her, ‘Who cares? What about the kids? We’ll say we ran into each other and I gave you a ride,’ but she insisted. We were arguing that day. She was dumping me. We stayed longer than usual, and then, well then both our cell phones started blowing up because the bus crashed. It was—it was horrible.”
His eyes had gone glassy with a distant look, as if he were peering back into the past, watching the events of that day replay again and again.
They gave him a moment and then Gretchen said, “Mr. Byrne, where was your spot?”
He gave his head a little shake, as if to bring himself back to the present. “Oh, it was this undeveloped tract of land not far from our houses actually. It’s been vacant for years. Every time there’s something about to be built there, the city council shuts it down. There are houses across from it, but there’s enough tree cover that you can park back there without being seen. We used to meet there in my truck. Faye would never go to either of our houses. It always had to be the truck.”
Gretchen looked at Josie. They were both thinking the same thing. Josie named the street on which they’d found Faye Palazzo’s body. “That place on Tallon Street?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said Corey. “That’s the spot. Hey, how’d you know that?”
Josie didn’t answer his question. Instead, she asked her own. “Who else knew about your affair?”
“No one,” he said. “Faye was insane about keeping it a secret. Her husband’s not wrapped too tight, you know?”
“Was she afraid of him?” Gretchen asked.
“I think she was, a little bit, but she always just said she didn’t want him to divorce her because Nevin needed his father.”
Josie said, “Did you tell anyone about the affair? Ever? Even after it was over?”
“No. Never. I promised Faye.”
“In the note we have, she says that someone saw you,” Josie said. “What did that mean? Someone caught the two of you?”
Again, Corey’s head tipped back, and he looked up at the ceiling for a moment. On a heavy exhale, he met Josie’s eyes again. “I don’t know if anyone saw us or not. Faye thought they did but I was never sure. I didn’t think it mattered anyway.”
Gretchen said, “Tell us what happened.”
He shrugged. “We were in our spot, you know? We were, well, you know—going at it in the cab of the truck but we always parked off to the side—like, behind these trees so that if anyone pulled in, they wouldn’t see us at first. No one ever pulled in except this one time.”
“When was this?” asked Josie.
“I don’t know. Like, a couple months before the accident?”
“Who pulled into the clearing?”
“Two cars,” he said. “Two guys. They parked next to each other and got out, started moving shit from the trunk of one car to the other. We recognized Miles right away and Faye started freaking out. She was scrambling so fast to get herself together and hide that she accidentally hit the horn. That’s when they looked over. We just sat there completely frozen. Then, real slow, Miles and this guy closed their trunks, got into their cars, and left. Faye was sure they saw us and that Miles recognized us both, but I didn’t even make eye contact with either of them. I mean I’m sure they saw us but I don’t know if they recognized us or realized what we were doing. I saw Miles a couple of times after that when I dropped Heidi off or picked her up, and he never said anything.”
Josie said, “You didn’t recognize the other guy?”
Corey scratched the back of his neck. “He looked really familiar but no, I didn’t recognize him. Maybe if I had been closer, I would have, but no, not from where we were parked. I recognized Miles right away because I saw him all the time and he had that shiny shaved head and drove that silver Lexus sedan that he leased from his dealership.”
“Did Faye recognize the other guy?” Gretchen asked.
“I think she did but we never got around to really discussing it. That wasn’t really important, you know? The thing was that someone saw us together. Then she dumped me and the accident happened, and we never spoke again.”
Josie said, “What were they transferring from car to car?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention that much. Like I said, Faye was freaking out.”
“What about the car the other guy was driving?” asked Gretchen. “Do you remember what kind of car it was?”
“I remember it was red. Red and small. I don’t know, like maybe a Prius or something. I can’t say for sure, though.”
Something sparked to life in the back of Josie’s mind. She turned to Gretchen. “I know someone who drives a red Prius.”
Gretchen said, “Let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Twenty minutes later, Josie and Gretchen stood inside one of the CCT
V rooms at Denton Police Headquarters staring at a television screen that streamed live footage of one of their interrogation rooms. On the screen, Ted Lesko sat at the scarred wooden interrogation table and scarfed down a tuna sandwich like he didn’t have a care in the world. Next, he guzzled the can of Coke that Mettner had provided him and let out a healthy belch.
“It cannot be this easy,” Gretchen said.
“It’s not,” Mettner replied. “If you’re looking at him for the murders, he’s got an alibi for most of the time we’re talking about here. During the three-hour window during which Faye Palazzo was taken from her home—between the time Sebastian left for work and came home for lunch—we’ve got him out on deliveries on the opposite side of town. I’ve got GPS coordinates, receipts, and even video of him arriving at various houses and businesses with his food deliveries. He also works for Downey’s Grocery Market and WheelShare, the ride-sharing app, and those work hours account for most of the rest of his alibi for both the time that Faye was missing and the time that Krystal was missing.”
Gretchen said, “But all we really know for sure is that he couldn’t have taken Faye. It’s possible that he could be working with someone else. He’s still got time where no one else can verify his whereabouts during which both Faye and Krystal were missing.”
“True,” Mettner conceded. “But he’s got GPS on his car and it was where he says it was during all of those times.”
Josie asked, “Is it the only car registered to his household?”
“Yeah. Also, we checked out his house. He gave us permission. He’s got a garage like everyone else but a tree fell into the roof a few months ago, did some serious damage that he hasn’t been able to afford to have fixed. There’s no way he could hold someone in there with the place sealed off well enough to cause carbon monoxide poisoning.”
“Shit,” Josie said. Something was bothering her, like an annoying paper cut that burned every time she washed her hands, but she couldn’t figure out what.
Mettner said, “He gave us permission to search his house and car and even to have the ERT come in and look around, take whatever they wanted.”
“Did they find any candles by any chance?” Josie asked.
“Yankee candles,” Mettner said. “No vigil candles.”
Gretchen said, “And he hasn’t asked for a lawyer?”
“No, but I haven’t read him his Mirandas yet.”
“Doesn’t look like you need to,” said Josie. “Let’s find out what he was doing with Miles Tenney two years ago, and then we’ll cut him loose.”
Josie walked from the CCTV room into the interrogation room. Ted’s face lit up in a smile when he saw her. “We meet again,” he said. “You know you’re the only person who can piss off Andrew Bowen more than me?”
Josie laughed and took the seat across from him. “Is that so? You don’t like Bowen?”
“Does anyone like that guy?”
“Good point. Ted, did Detective Mettner tell you why we asked you to come here today?”
“It’s pretty obvious from all the questions he asked,” Ted replied. “This is about the Krystal Duncan thing—and he said another parent was murdered. Pretty messed-up shit.”
“You’re not worried about being brought in for questioning?”
He shook his head and leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms over his head. He brought them back down and rested his elbows against the table. “Nah. I didn’t kill anyone. No reason to be nervous.”
Josie tilted her head to the side, regarding him skeptically. “You’re not worried that we’ll try to pin these murders on you? Plant evidence? You’re the only person we can think of who might have a beef with the bus crash parents.”
He leaned in, bunching his shoulders up toward his neck. “I’m not the trusting type, if that’s what you’re getting at, but I’ve been through the system. I’ve seen how it works. No matter what you cops plan on doing to me, my best play right now is complete transparency. Take that however you will.”
“All right,” Josie said. “I need to ask you something about before the bus accident.”
“Shoot.”
“You met with Miles Tenney, at least once, in the empty lot on Tallon Street. You two were moving things back and forth from the trunks of your cars. What were you doing? How do you know Miles?”
Ted’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Then he laughed. “That is going way back. Is Miles dead too?”
“We don’t know.”
“If you don’t know then he probably is dead because that guy was in deep to some pretty nasty people. Owed a lot of money. I was helping him out ’cause he didn’t want to be seen pawning stuff. Big, important car salesman. Supposed to be rolling in money. Could barely keep up with his mortgage. I had to lend him money for gas a few times. You believe that?”
When Josie didn’t respond, Ted kept talking. “He was too embarrassed to go into pawn shops and sell stuff so he asked me to do it for him. We’d meet now and then so he could give me whatever he had to sell. I’d take it and pawn it at shops anywhere from here to Philadelphia. I kept a small cut and gave him the rest. Nothing illegal about that.”
“Except that the stuff he was giving you was stolen. Did he tell you that?”
Ted was not fazed. “No, he didn’t tell me where he got it and I didn’t ask. You can try to pin me with theft by receiving stolen property since the statute of limitations on that is five years, but you’d have to know the value of the property that was received and be able to prove that I knew it was stolen in order to make that one stick.”
Josie knew that a theft by receiving stolen property charge without a solid witness or more definitive details would be next to impossible to prove, but she wasn’t interested in arresting Ted at this point. All she really wanted was information about Miles, and he was giving that freely. “Why did Miles ask you for help?”
Ted laughed. “Come on, Detective. You saw the neighborhood Miles lived in—that my dad and I lived in—you think anyone there has ever set foot in a pawn shop? When I first got out and moved back in with my dad, he would take me to parties and barbecues so he could keep an eye on me. Once he realized I wasn’t going to go batshit crazy if he left me alone, I didn’t have to go sit around eating shitty food with strangers for hours at a time. But I met Miles at one of those barbecues and so he knew who I was. Then I delivered food to the dealership a few times. Talked to him there. He knew the deal. Knew I’d been in prison. He asked me if I knew how to pawn stuff or sell stuff on the black market. I said, ‘Sure, if you’re willing to cut me in.’”
“How long were you and Miles doing this?”
“I don’t know. A couple of years? Maybe three?”
“Did it stop after the accident? Because of the accident?”
Ted gave her a dry look. “Well, it would have been pretty fucking awkward, don’t you think? Hey, my dad killed your kid. You still want my help selling shit? Yeah, it stopped after the accident, because of the accident. I never talked to him again.”
“Did you ever see anyone else in the clearing when you met up? Did anyone ever see you two together?”
“I don’t think so. There was one time we heard someone beeping but we couldn’t tell where it was coming from, so we just closed everything up and left.”
“Miles didn’t see anyone? He never mentioned anything?”
Ted rubbed his jaw. “He said that he thought he had seen someone he knew parked farther out in the clearing and he wanted to go. I looked but didn’t see anything. But just to be on the safe side, we left. After that, I would wait till after dark and go to his house, wait outside the garage in his side yard.”
Changing topics, Josie said, “Did you ever talk to your dad about the day of the accident?”
“You’re kidding me, right? Bowen would have a shit fit if he knew you were even asking about the accident. I’m not allowed to say shit about that.”
Josie plunged ahead anyway. “At least tell me why your da
d would lie about the reason he took a drink that day.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He told investigators he had a drink that day because he was upset that his mother had been admitted to hospice care that morning. But that decision had been made at least a month before that, and your grandmother had already been receiving hospice care for all that time. Why lie about that?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Ted said. “Look, between you and me, I’ve asked him a few times what happened that day. Like, why did he throw his whole life away like that? I know he had more than just alcohol in his system. Bowen told me. It was in the news. I said, ‘After you rode my ass all these years to get on the straight and narrow, you down a bunch of pills and booze and kill a bunch of kids? What the hell for?’ He won’t talk about it. Even to me.”
“Ted,” Josie said. “I just have one more question. Do you or your dad own any other property besides the house you live in? Something out in the country? Maybe something your grandmother left you? A farm or something?”
It would be easy enough to check the property records, but Josie wanted to know how he would answer. He laughed again. “Another property? Please. Anything that’s not nailed down has been sold to pay for my dad’s fancy lawyer. No, we don’t own any other property but my dad’s house, and I’m barely making the payments on that because Andrew Bowen gets almost every dime I make.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Back in the great room, Josie sat at her desk, clutching the rosary beads in one hand while Gretchen, Mettner, and Chief Chitwood stood in a semicircle a few feet away. Gretchen gave Chitwood a report on Faye Palazzo’s autopsy and the interview with Ted Lesko. Dan Lamay brought up a partial list of area farms and any other property that had a barn on it. None of the owners’ names stood out to Josie, Gretchen, or the Chief, but the Chief dispatched Mettner to start visiting each farm to look for slatted floors and barn animals with pale-yellow hair.