“He’s a minor. You may not interview him without my consent or his attorney present,” said Bill. “Anything he said to you is inadmissible in court.”
A civilian staff member approached Jimenez and handed him a file folder, then turned his back to the others and spoke to the detective in a low voice. Everyone watched as Jimenez opened the folder, flipped through two pages, closed it and handed it back. “Go to the DA and get a warrant immediately for the chat room logs and identity.”
Grace glanced at him. He said, “We processed Travis Whitman’s phone records. We don’t have access to the comments, but Travis engaged in a conversation through the ChatMe app. He downloaded the app Tuesday, but his account was created over a year ago.”
“What does any of this have to do with us?” Paula said.
“Let’s discuss this privately,” Grace said.
“I’m not talking without my lawyer,” said Bill.
“This isn’t an interview. I need to give you information, and if you don’t mind everyone here knowing your business, then I’m happy to talk about it here. Your gun was used to kill a high school student. I would think we all want answers.”
Paula drew in her breath. Bill was skeptical. “If I believe that the conversation is veering off into another direction, I will end it.”
“Fair enough,” Grace said.
Max was impressed with Grace’s control.
Grace said to Austin, “Sit over there with your brother.”
“Tommy is not his brother,” Paula said.
Austin glared at his mother with such a deep hatred, Max didn’t know how they were going to ever come back from this.
Paula either didn’t care or didn’t notice her son’s reaction. She said, “I’m filing a restraining order against Tommy Wallace. I don’t want him anywhere near my son.”
Grace said to the desk sergeant, “Keep an eye on the boys.”
Bill looked at Max. “She’s not coming with us.”
Grace glanced at Max and gave her a slight shake. Max hadn’t expected to be allowed into the room, but if they hadn’t said anything, she would have followed.
When the four of them went up the stairs, she turned to Tommy and Austin. “Tommy, I know you’re upset, but you need to forgive your mother and Austin. They love you.”
“They lied to me. Because they think I hurt Ivy. And maybe I did.”
“I didn’t lie to you!” Austin said. “And you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Max was thinking about the gun. She didn’t think Bill Wallace would have killed Travis, and if he had, why would he use his own gun and then leave it at the scene? Bill was an asshole, but he wasn’t stupid.
Paula? She was definitely not as bright as her husband, but certainly would know not to leave a weapon at the scene of the crime. And what would her motive be to kill Travis? That she thought he killed her daughter? Except she’d made it clear that she thought Tommy had done it. Maybe she thought she could frame Tommy. But that seemed … unlikely.
Austin would have had access to the gun. Where was he early Thursday morning? He made a habit of disappearing and sneaking out of the house. It wouldn’t take much for a prosecutor to go after him for murder. Travis had left his house before dawn. He’d been killed before school. Austin could have lured him to the marsh and killed him … maybe because of what Travis knew about Ivy’s death that he’d been holding back from the police and from Max.
She squatted in front of the boys. Tommy refused to look at Austin. Max put her hand on Austin’s knee and said, “Look me in the eye.”
He did. He was defiant, but he was also frightened. Why? Because of the gun or because Tommy wouldn’t talk to him?
“Did you take your father’s gun?”
He looked thoroughly confused. “No. Why would I? Oh, God, you think I killed Travis.”
“Did you give the gun to anyone else?”
“No—I don’t even know the code to his lockbox. And I wouldn’t take it. Do you really think I’d do something like that?”
“No, but I wanted you to say it.”
“But they’re going to think it’s Tommy. They’re going to blame Tommy.”
“No, they’re not. Austin, pull yourself together. You’re mature, but you’re still a kid. Do not talk to the police about this without a lawyer.”
“I didn’t take the damn gun.”
“I believe you. But you need a lawyer to protect your rights. Trust me. You should have had one when you told Grace about Ivy cutting herself. David and I told you last night—”
“I know what you said, I just want this to be over with. And I don’t want some lawyer that Bill controls. I don’t want anything from him. I hate him!”
Tommy flinched, but didn’t say anything.
“I can find you a lawyer if you want,” Max said.
Austin didn’t say anything. Max wasn’t certain what the laws were related to minors and lawyers. She knew that they had a right to an attorney in any criminal investigation or questioning, but did they have a right to hire someone separate from whom their parents wanted?
“I’m going to make some calls and find out what your options are. From here on out, Austin, tell the truth. Only the truth. Half-truths and omissions are considered lies at this point, got it?”
He nodded.
Max turned to Tommy and squeezed his knee. “It’s going to get better, Tommy.”
He looked at her with sad eyes and her heart broke.
“My mom wants to move far away,” he said in a whisper. “I don’t want to go.”
“I’m sorry, Tommy. Let’s get through this, and maybe things will change.”
“My mom thinks I killed Ivy.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Then why didn’t she tell the truth about my sleepwalking that night?”
“People do the wrong things for the right reasons.”
“She said she wanted to protect me, but that means she thinks I did it. Else she wouldn’t need to protect me.”
“I think it’s more complicated than that,” Max said, but didn’t know how to explain it. She stood up and her knees cracked from squatting for so long. “Sit tight. I’ll be right back.”
Max went over to the desk sergeant. Before she could even ask him to watch the boys, he nodded.
She went outside and returned David’s call.
“I was in the police station. Did you talk to Madison?”
“Did Grace Martin ever interview Amanda about the night Ivy died?”
Max wasn’t expecting that question. She thought back. “No, her name wasn’t on any of the lists.”
“It’s a long story, but ultimately, Amanda stalked Madison Cross after she moved away. Calls, texts, e-mails. The weekend before Ivy died, Amanda showed up at their house for a sleepover. Stephen Cross had a talk with Jenny and told her that the plans for the sleepover were all in Amanda’s head, that they hadn’t made this arrangement, then showed her thousands of text messages and e-mails that Amanda had been sending over the months since Madison moved. According to Stephen, Jenny talked to Amanda and he said she hasn’t contacted Madison again.”
“Maybe I haven’t had enough coffee, but how does this relate to Ivy?”
“Amanda blamed Ivy for her friend Madison moving away. Amanda had an unhealthy relationship with Madison. Madison realized it after she moved and tried to cut ties, to the point of changing her phone number and e-mail. I have a copy of everything Amanda sent. I haven’t read it all, but some texts are disturbing. And one thing is clear: she thinks her father traded her and Tommy for Ivy and Austin.”
“Why on earth—” Max’s stomach fell. “Because of what her mother told her?”
“I think Jenny Wallace’s rage and sorrow over the affair and divorce impacted Amanda in an unpredictable way. I’m no psychiatrist, but Ullman would probably be able to read through these messages and see that Amanda has a warped view of her family and her place in it.”
“Travis Whitma
n was killed with Bill Wallace’s gun,” Max said. “What does Travis have to do with this?”
“Travis was dating Ivy at the time she exposed Madison’s cutting—which was the impetus for the Cross family to move. Maybe Amanda blamed him as well as Ivy. You said that Travis was holding back—maybe he knows something about Amanda. Maybe they conspired to kill Ivy together.”
Max could see it. The details were still elusive, but she could see two people working together to lure Ivy to the preserve and push her off the cliff. The tweet that came after one in the morning would give Travis an alibi. And when Max came to town and started asking questions, Travis panicked. But why would he run to Bailey? Was Bailey also part of this conspiracy?
“Max, are you listening to me?”
“Yes, sorry.”
“I said, Amanda Wallace is dangerous. Especially if she shot Travis Whitman—she has to know that it’ll come back to her.”
“She’s trying to frame Austin.”
“How?”
“She knows he sneaks out all the time. Like her, he would have access to Bill’s gun. The new time of death for Ivy—Austin wasn’t on his computer. Remember, he didn’t log in until closer to eleven thirty. He has no real alibi, he was the last person who saw Ivy. And before six in the morning on Thursday? Would Paula be able to prove he was home that morning? His house is only a couple of miles from where Travis was killed.”
“Amanda Wallace is volatile. Something happened and she snapped.”
Max thought. “Travis thought all along that he was talking to Bailey Fairstein.”
“You lost me.”
“Travis accused Bailey of putting a phone in his locker. Grace said that Travis had communicated with someone via a ChatMe app, and they’re working on tracing those communications. But why did he think his friend Brian wanted to run Thursday morning?”
“They go to the same school. Amanda could have known he ran with the guy. She could have texted him saying that she was Brian.”
David cleared his throat. “The police will need to get a warrant for her computer and phone.”
“With Ivy’s death unsolved, she wasn’t concerned. Then I come to town, stir things up, Travis panics—what if Travis really thought Ivy’s death was an accident, but thought he’d get in trouble because he played some part in getting Ivy up to the preserve? Maybe he thought he was planning with Bailey—he didn’t normally talk to her, wouldn’t know she was out of town. Neither would Amanda.”
“And when the truth came out about the time of death, he got suspicious.”
“It made him a suspect, and he didn’t have an alibi. Him or Austin. Except, he was killed before the TOD was narrowed down.”
“It was a good frame job … but has holes.”
“Amanda’s sixteen,” Max said. “She’s in self-preservation mode. I don’t know what she might do.”
Amanda thought her father traded her and Tommy for Austin and Ivy …
Bella. Where was the little girl?
“David, I need to give Grace this information. When will you be back?”
“Ten minutes or less.”
“I’m still at the police station. But I’ll call you if that changes.” Max hung up.
* * *
After Max went outside, Austin glanced over at Tommy. He didn’t know what was going to happen to any of them. He just wanted his brother back.
Sitting straight up, his hands clasped tightly in his lap, Tommy stared straight ahead. His face was damp and flushed. He’d been crying, but he hadn’t looked at Austin since Max left. Austin’s lip trembled.
They may not be related by blood, but Austin had thought of Tommy as his brother from the first day they’d met. Austin had been five, Tommy ten. He was bigger than most ten-year-olds, but so much friendlier. He played with Austin for hours. Whatever Austin wanted to do. Ride bikes? Tommy was game. Play cards? Anytime. Play with little green army men? Tommy loved it. Austin had more fun creating elaborate military campaigns in the backyard with Tommy than anything else in his childhood. They’d played for hours, until dark, and sometimes in the summer even after dark. They brought flashlights outside and set them up like spotlights. Or pretended the flashlights were helicopters flying overhead trying to find the sniper. When Austin played baseball for a couple years, Tommy was the one who played catch with him, watched his practice, and came to almost every game. Tommy didn’t catch too good, but he never said no, he didn’t want to do something. Austin didn’t know that before they were brothers, Tommy wanted to play baseball. He tried for one year, but the kids weren’t nice and the coach yelled at Tommy when he missed a fly ball during a game. Tommy’s sister told him that.
“Tommy wants to be normal, but he’s not,” Amanda said. “I hate those kids who were mean to him. He loves baseball but he won’t play again, no matter what I say to him. And Mom just let him quit. She doesn’t like people teasing him, but she thinks that ice cream solves all problems.”
“It’s going to be okay, Tommy,” Austin said.
Tommy didn’t move from his spot on the bench. He would not look at Austin. His frown made his entire face sag.
“I’m sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“You lied to me. That night Ivy died, you promised you wouldn’t re-re-re—” he stuttered, unable to think of the word.
“Retaliate.”
“You promised. But you did. Then she died.”
“What I did had nothing to do with what happened to Ivy.”
“You broke your promise.”
“She was mean to you!”
“And you were mean to Ivy. You’re just the same.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re worse.” Tears fell from Tommy’s face. “You pretend to be my friend. You tell me we’re brothers.”
“We are brothers. I love you, Tommy.”
Tommy got up and walked away.
Austin called after him, but Tommy wouldn’t look back.
Tommy was never going to forgive him.
Austin jumped up and ran out of the station, ignoring the desk sergeant who was shouting after him. He pushed Max as she came in through the doors.
Why did he think he could fix anything? He was just a dumb kid. He picked up speed and ran as fast and as long as he could.
In his pocket, Austin’s phone was vibrating. As soon as he was clear of the police station, he read the text message. The number wasn’t familiar.
I know who killed Ivy.
Who’s this?
I know who killed her and can prove it. But I can’t go to the police, I don’t want to get in trouble. I’ll leave the evidence on your dad’s boat.
My dad? You mean Bill?
But there was no reply.
Chapter Thirty-four
Austin didn’t stop or slow down as Max called after him. She ran into the station and nearly collided with the desk sergeant.
“Officer, I need to talk to Grace Martin right now. It’s a matter of life and death.”
He looked at her, skeptical.
“I don’t say that lightly. I’m a reporter. My partner learned something that has a direct bearing on the murders of both Ivy Lake and Travis Whitman. Austin Lake is in danger right now.”
Whether he believed her or knew that she and Grace had been working together, Max didn’t know, but he said, “She’s upstairs in the main conference room. I’ll call and tell her you’re coming.”
Looking around, Max didn’t see Tommy on the bench.
“He’s with his mother,” the desk sergeant said as he picked up the phone. He motioned to the bullpen. Tommy stood stiffly behind his mother while she spoke to the officer taking her statement.
Max walked briskly down the hall and up the stairs. She didn’t know which was the main conference room, but found it on the second try. Sitting at a table with Detective Jimenez and the Wallaces, Grace was just hanging up the phone. She looked angry, but Max didn’t care if it was direct
ed at her.
“Grace, David just learned some disturbing information about Amanda Wallace, and we need to find her.”
Bill Wallace jumped up. “I’ve had enough of this attack on my family!”
“Sit down!” Max and Grace ordered simultaneously. Grace shot Max an irritated glance.
Bill was stunned into silence but didn’t sit.
Max said to Grace, “David’s returning with evidence, but did you interview Amanda after Ivy died?”
“No. I didn’t have a need to. Her mother said she and Tommy were home all night.”
“But we now know that Jenny found the alarm off and thought Tommy was sleepwalking. Want to bet that Amanda turned it off so she could get back in undetected?”
“I need something more, Max.”
“David has thousands of e-mails and text messages sent to her childhood friend Madison Cross.”
“Maddie?” Bill said. “Maddie and Amanda have been best friends since kindergarten.”
“She moved before Ivy was killed,” Max told Grace. “Ivy had exposed her as a cutter, then humiliated her by revealing she was on antidepressants and seeing a shrink. Her father relocated the family so his daughter could start fresh. Amanda had developed an obsessive relationship with her, until Madison’s father put an end to it—the weekend before Ivy was killed.”
Grace nodded. “You have my interest.”
Bill said, “I don’t believe this nonsense. You’re talking about my daughter—she’s sixteen years old. She’s not a killer! She’s a straight A student.”
Grace pointed out, “She had access to your gun.”
“My gun is locked in a box.”
“Your gun is in police evidence,” Jimenez said. Max had almost forgotten he was in the room.
“We need to find Amanda,” said Max. “If she shot Travis Whitman, she knows we’ll be able to connect the gun to her father.”
Grace nodded. “Mr. and Mrs. Wallace, go home. We’ll find Amanda and figure this out.”
Bill shook his head. “I’m going to help. I’m certain this is another exaggeration by the media, which has exaggerated and lied about everything since this woman came to town.”
Max didn’t inform him that all the fabrications came from homegrown reporter Lance Lorenzo.
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