by Blake Pierce
Regina did as she was asked, but the steps she took were small and shuffling. And she somehow managed to stare daggers into all three of the other women all at once.
Kate then turned to the other woman. She still looked shaken but clearly relieved that someone had finally managed to calm Ms. Voss. “You, too,” Kate said. “I need you to step back three steps.”
The woman did, looking gratefully between Kate and DeMarco. Kate then turned back to Regina Voss and did her best to sound understanding rather than authoritative. “Ms. Voss, because this is your house, I’m going to allow you to tell me what happened. If you tell anything other than the truth, I’m going to have Agent DeMarco correct you. Sound good?”
There was still scorn on Regina’s face, but she nodded. She brushed a few strands of her graying brown hair back and began. “Your partner came by my house, knocking on the door just as casual as you please. Asked me if she could ask some questions. I asked her what the questions were about and she wanted to know if I’d seen anything unusual in the neighborhood. And I said yes, I had. I told her there are far too many new people coming in this town, wasting space with these new houses and crowding up the all the real estate at the lake. It’s always been bad, but it was terrible this summer. I pointed out Mrs. Flair right there as an example.” She pointed to the woman in the running gear as she said this. “She was walking down the street, right by my home, like she had the right.”
“Ms. Voss, she does have the right to walk down the street.”
“Been there, tried that,” DeMarco said.
“And then what happened, Ms. Voss?” Kate asked.
But Regina apparently had no interest in answering this. Kate knew this was the part of the story where Regina Voss had been in the wrong—where she had likely taken things too far. And since she did not reply and the woman, Mrs. Flair, was clearly too scared to talk, DeMarco filled in the rest.
“Mrs. Flair saw her pointing because we were standing right there, inside the opened front door,” DeMarco said. “Flair gave a dismissive sort of wave to Ms. Voss and that was the end of it. Ms. Voss came rushing out of the front door, damn near pushing me over. She came out into the yard and started yelling. And that’s when you came up.”
“Mrs. Flair, I take it from your attire you were out for a run?” Kate said.
“Yes. I run three times a week. And for God’s sake, I guess I need to find a new route because this woman has had something derogative to say about me each time I’ve come by here.”
“You live around here?” Kate asked.
“A few blocks over,” she said. “My husband and I moved into the area a few months ago, just before summer.”
“And had you ever met Ms. Voss before you started running by here?”
“Not officially. Although when we were moving in, she was walking by our house and stood there, staring at us. Not bothering to talk, not asking to help, nothing like that. Just giving us this mean, glaring stare.”
“Is that true?” Kate asked Regina Voss.
“Yes. And I am aware it was rude of me but…I’m done with new families, new rich millennials and these spoiled grown-ups able to retire at forty, coming into town and just taking it over.” Her tone was nearing a scream again and Kate wasn’t sure she had the patience for it. “Buying houses just to flip them and sell them to other people from out of town that come in and just try running the town.”
“Mrs. Flair, please continue on your run,” Kate said. “And yes…maybe find some alternate route in the future.”
Flair nodded and carried on, though there was very little energy in her step when she started running again.
“You just let her go?” Regina asked. “Just like that?”
“She’s done nothing wrong,” DeMarco said.
“Not in your eyes. You know…none of these murders started happening until all of these new families started popping up. I looked into it a few days ago. Total murders in Estes over the past twenty-five years…one. A single murder. And that was an estranged wife, stabbing her husband. But then these new families come in…over the last three years, there have been multiple break-ins, noisy ass cars going up and down the road at all hours and now, over the past week, three murders. So yes…I’m a little pissed at the state of my hometown.”
“Ms. Voss, that’s understandable,” Kate said. “But you can’t take it out on everyone that passes by your house.”
“And why not?”
“Because it’s not your town,” DeMarco said.
Kate cringed a bit at the sarcastic tone in DeMarco’s voice. She had no doubt her partner had not don’t it intentionally, but it was there.
“I may not own the town,” Regina said. “But I own property in the town and have more of a stake in it than these assholes that come in to buy properties only to flip them and resell them. You don’t know what it’s like and quite frankly, I’d love it if you’d get the fuck out of my face!”
Regina then took one large stride toward DeMarco, getting in her face. She was screaming at the top of her lungs when she did, further going on and on about the state of Estes and how much she loathed the direction it was headed. Kate reached for her to pull her back but by then, it was a little too late.
Maybe it was the certain way she said a word or maybe it was intentional—but somehow, some of Regina Voss’s spit ended up striking DeMarco right between the eyes.
“Thanks for that,” DeMarco said.
Then, in a move so fast Kate was barely able to register it, DeMarco grabbed Regina by the left arm, spun her around with it, and brought up behind her back. She slapped a pair of cuffs on her and adjusted them up with both of Regina’s hands bound behind her back. The entire series of movements took less than five seconds. To Kate, it was almost like watching a magic act.
Honestly, Kate thought it was a bit much, but said nothing. She reminded herself that she was here to support DeMarco. And besides, nothing she had just done would be sufficient to be reprimanded for. In Kate’s eyes, it had just been a bit rough in terms of handling a semi-delusional woman in her fifties. What sort of woman in her right mind came charging at a federal agent like that?
“If you like the town of Estes so much,” DeMarco said, “let’s show you the police station.”
“Oh, I’m familiar with it,” Regina said through clenched teeth.
As Kate and DeMarco marched Regina up onto her porch to place a call to Armstrong, Kate thought: I don’t doubt that one bit.
***
Sheriff Armstrong pulled up alongside the curb in her patrol car less than five minutes later. By that time, Kate and DeMarco had Regina Voss on her porch. Regina was standing with her back pressed against the side of the house so no passersby could see the cuffs. Kate was sitting in the little wicker chair Regina kept by the front door while DeMarco stood at the steps.
Armstrong looked like a woman who might be on the way to defuse a bomb rather than get caught up on the arrest.
“Ms. Voss, were you not hospitable to these ladies?” Armstrong asked.
At first, her approach irritated Kate. But then she thought that being the head of law enforcement of a town this small probably meant you got to know most of your town’s residents very well. And if Regina Voss was someone who had indeed seen the inside of the police department before (as she had hinted at), then Armstrong likely knew how to talk to her without getting her riled up again.
“No, I wasn’t,” Regina said. “This younger one came asking me about anything I’d seen that might be out of the ordinary. I figured she was here to look into the murders and I wasn’t sure if she was asking me as if I was a suspect or just an interested citizen.”
“So why are you in cuffs?” Armstrong asked.
Regina made a prissy face and shrugged. She looked out to the road as if she were completely uninterested in what was going on. Or perhaps, Kate thought, almost daring Mrs. Flair to come jogging by again.
DeMarco took the liberty of filling Armstrong in
. The sheriff nodded along, wincing here and there. When DeMarco’s account of events was through, Armstrong waved the agents down into the yard. She looked back at Voss and asked: “You aren’t going to be any trouble if I leave you right there for a few minutes, are you?”
“No. You go on out there and talk about me.” She sneered when she said it, but there was also something in her expression that looked satisfied. Kate figured she was the type of crotchety middle-aged lady who liked it when people were talking about her—even if it was about negative things.
Armstrong led them to where she had parked her car and they gathered around the hood. “Regina Voss is a bitch,” she said. “She has a sad story to justify it—two failed marriages, the latest of which saw her forty-nine-year-old husband leave town with a twenty-two-year-old tourist. That was three years ago and ever since then, she’s been that local that all the kids make up stories about. Crazy old Ms. Voss, always yelling at anyone that dares to linger in front of her house for too long. Kids sometimes egg her house. She’s that sort of woman. But she also loathes tourists and anyone new who comes into town. And the Flair family, as you might have picked up, are rather new. And between the three of us, Emily Flair bears a striking resemblance to the young lady who stole the second husband away.”
“Regina hinted at the fact she’d been in trouble with law enforcement before,” DeMarco said. “Anything serious?”
“A few verbal confrontations, one physical altercation that was nothing more than a slap that busted another woman’s lip, and a vandalization charge.”
“What did she vandalize?” Kate asked.
“Several real estate signs, out in front of new builds a few houses down. That was last year. She was caught in the act by one of my officers and she was quite proud of herself.”
“I assume you don’t think she’s capable of murder?” DeMarco asked.
Armstrong nearly said something…her tongue and lips poised to say No. But then she stopped and considered it for a moment. “I’m inclined to say no,” she said. “But with three people dead and no potential suspects, I wouldn’t rule it out. She’s mean-spirited, there’s no doubt about that.”
“I don’t know,” Kate said. “She looks pretty scrawny. And she has to be at least fifty-five. You think she could throw a woman five feet across open air from a second-floor landing? Or string someone up with a noose?”
“Like I said, I’m inclined to say no. But you know what? She’s already cuffed. Might as well take her in and question her. Even if it’s not her, I’m sure she’s pissed off more than enough people. Maybe she could give us some names. She tries to stay up to date on new people that have moved into Estes.”
DeMarco especially seemed to like this idea, taking the lead as the trio headed back up to the front porch. Armstrong willingly took the duty of letting Regina know that she would be taking a trip to the station, not primarily because of her behavior toward the agents but because they wanted to ask her some questions. Kate was expecting another outburst, but Regina remained calm. She did not look at all happy to be going, but it appeared as if the reality of what she had done was sinking in and she was accepting her punishment.
Still, she was quite glad when DeMarco elected to sit in the back of the car with her as they all piled into Armstrong’s cruiser. Armstrong drove straight ahead, passing straight through the intersection Kate had been standing at less than twenty minutes ago. As they drove by it, Kate looked out the window to where she had accidentally scared the stranger.
She wasn’t surprised to see that the black Taurus was no longer there.
What did surprise her, though, was the little shiver of alarm that passed through her when she realized it was gone.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“You have got to be joking, right?”
Regina Voss wore an expression that rested somewhere between genuine amusement and absolute rage. It was an eerie look, one that Kate wasn’t certain she had ever seen before.
“Ms. Voss, we have to consider all options here,” DeMarco said. “And quite frankly, you’re easily the meanest person we’ve met since entering Estes. If the shoe fits, and all that.”
“So you really think that I have the power to not only bludgeon these women with some heavy instrument, but to then somehow lug them through a house, up some stairs, and then shove them over a rail? I suppose I should be flattered that I look so fit, but I’m too busy being absolutely stunned at your sheer idiocy.”
Regina was sitting at the same table Greg Seamster had occupied not too long ago. She was staring up at Kate and DeMarco as if trying to figure out which one she thought might be the dumber one. It had been decided that Armstrong would sit this one out, hoping that the removal of anyone familiar might make Regina more prone to being honest and transparent the angrier she got.
And so far, it seemed to be working.
“Well, would you care to answer the original questions I came knocking to ask?” DeMarco asked.
“I answered what I could before things got out of hand. No, I have not seen anything out of the ordinary—aside from all the houses going up for sale. But it’s the same this time of year just about every year, now isn’t it?”
“You gave very vague answers before you inexplicably went off on a passing woman, yes,” DeMarco said. “But that was not—”
“I should sue the hell out of you! Out of the local pissant police department and the FBI! This is outrageous! I’ll sue for wrongful arrest. I’ll have both your jobs before this is over!”
“Or, you could just answer our questions like a respectable citizen,” DeMarco said. “Three women are dead, Ms. Voss. And with your working knowledge of people coming in and out of town, you could potentially help us. We are not trying to pin anything on you. We legitimately just want you to answer some questions.”
“And what if I don’t?”
“Well, then you start to look very suspicious,” DeMarco said.
Kate noticed then, as Regina was leaning partially over the table, that the woman was hunching over slightly. She thought she had noticed something similar when she had been railing off on Flair and DeMarco but had assumed it was just her body’s response to the stress. But now, she wasn’t too sure.
“Ms. Voss, are you on any medications?” she asked.
Regina looked at her with a baffled expression, as if she hadn’t understood the question. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Maybe nothing,” Kate said. “But it would be helpful if you’d just answer the question.”
“Just a muscle relaxant,” she snipped. “Skelaxin.”
“For your back?” Kate asked, feeling the slight chance of Regina Voss being any sort of promising suspect slipping even further away.
“Yes. I have a herniated disc. Been bothering me for almost a year now and just won’t get better. How’d you know that?”
“It’s the way you’re sitting.”
Kate also thought: Maybe it would get better if you could somehow curb that bad habit of rushing out onto your lawn to yell and scream at people.
DeMarco turned to her and Kate could tell that the same thoughts were going through her mind. Voss was not a suspect. Kate doubted the woman could lift as much as twenty-five pounds. And from what she had seen, the woman was not stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, especially not in an empty house.
And honestly, if she was being this difficult, maybe it would be a blessing to just let her go back home and stew in her hatred in her home. Kate at least would be glad to be rid of her.
“One second, please, Ms. Voss,” Kate said.
She and DeMarco exited the room. Kate was surprised to see a twitching smile on DeMarco’s face. “How in the hell did we even begin to think she would be a suspect?”
“I think the attitude and sheer hatefulness is what did it for me,” Kate said. “But even though we know she can’t be a suspect, we’re right to assume she would be a good source of neighborhood information.”
“Yeah, the angry and nosy bitches always are,” DeMarco said. She then sighed, shook her head, and added, “I’m sorry. That’s not very professional of me.”
“It’s not. But it’s true. Don’t sweat it.”
Armstrong, having seen them come out of the room, joined them about halfway down the hallway. She peered toward the interrogation room with her rms folded. “Nothing?” she asked.
“Nothing but a medical condition,” Kate said. “Did you know she had a herniated disc in her back?”
“I did not. Want to me find out what doctor diagnosed it just to make sure she’s on the up and up?”
“Might as well just to knock it off the list,” DeMarco said. “But if she’s the killer, I’ll swim all the way across Fallows Lake buck naked.”
“There’s a strange mental picture,” Kate said.
As Armstrong headed back toward the front of the building, Kate and DeMarco started back to the interrogation room. Just before they got there, Kate’s phone rang. She paused before answering it because every call so far had come to DeMarco. As she reached for her phone, she wondered if it might be Allen.
She felt rather awkward when she saw that it was Director Duran. She thought of turning away and hiding it from DeMarco but she knew that would be childish. Instead, she went ahead and showed DeMarco the caller display. With a shrug (and a look of disappointment from DeMarco), Kate answered the call.
“I’m afraid you have the wrong agent,” she said, trying to sound jovial. “This isn’t my case.”
“I appreciate the attempt at passive humor,” Duran said, “but I frankly find nothing about this funny. Three bodies now, Wise. I thought you’d be able to draw this thing to a close.”
“We’re certainly working towards that goal, sir.”
“And which of you suggested to the local real estate companies that a hold be placed on all showings for the time being?”
“I believe that was DeMarco, sir. But I agree with her one hundred percent.”