by Robin James
“Just be careful,” I said, forcing back tears. “He can get overwhelmed and …”
“I know,” Jason whispered. “Mara, I know. I need you to trust me. Trust Will.”
“Gotta go, Mom!” Will shouted from the bottom of the stairs. He was smiling. Excited. I found my smile and walked down to him. He let me hug him. I put a kiss on my son’s cheek.
“Be good,” I said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Will said. Kat gave me a reassuring wink over Will’s shoulder. Then she and Jason took my son to the waiting car. I was alone in my own home for the first time since Will was born.
8
Three days later, I met the sister of Kevin Sutter, Victim #5, by chance. As I loaded groceries into my trunk, she shouted my name across the parking lot.
“Ms. Brent?” she said. “You’re Mara Brent, aren’t you?”
I turned. She had long, nearly waist-length brown hair with blonde highlights and make-up that looked more New York than Waynetown. She stood in front of a red Honda Accord parked two spots over. A rental, by the stickers on it.
“Yes,” I said, closing my trunk. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Nikki Sutter,” she said, blinking a little too quickly. I realized she was fighting back tears.
“Oh, Nikki!” I said, recalling the crude family tree Jason had drawn for me. Nikki and Kevin were the grandchildren of the youngest original Sutter brother, Grandpa Louie. As Nikki stepped closer, I saw she wasn’t alone. An older woman sat in the passenger seat. She turned her head and fixed an enormous set of green eyes—deeply set in a round face with hard lines, especially around her mouth—on me.
“Nikki,” I said. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
Nikki looked back at the passenger in her car. “This is Grandma George,” she said.
Grandma George’s expression didn’t change. She considered me. Then unlatched her seatbelt and stepped out of the car to join her granddaughter.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said to the old woman. She came to stand next to Nikki. Nikki put her arm around her. She was taller. Georgette Sutter couldn’t have reached even five feet. She wore a green polyester vested pantsuit with a matching blouse.
“They won’t tell us much,” Nikki said. “I just want to know what’s going on with my brother’s case.”
“I understand,” I said.
“It’ll be you,” Nikki said. “They said on the news when they arrest someone, you’re the one who is going to take him or them to trial.”
“That’s right,” I said. I knew that look. I’d dealt with hundreds of crime victims, loved ones of people who had lost their lives in unspeakable ways. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like for these two. To lose so many members of their family all at once. To live with the fear that perhaps they, too, were targets.
“I know it’s frustrating,” I said. “But Detective Cruz, well, he’s the best there is.” It felt natural to make them the one promise I knew I couldn’t make. Though I believed Sam would find the people responsible for these murders, I could offer them no guarantees.
“He’s so young,” Grandma George said. “So are you. How old are you, honey?”
She stepped forward and put a hand on my cheek. It was a forward gesture. She had recently manicured nails with pink pearl polish, but fingers gnarled with arthritis. She wore a pendant with two lockets dangling from her neck, flipped so I could see the tiny picture inside. It was a faded black-and-white photograph of an infant.
“Grandma,” Nikki whispered, embarrassed by her grandmother’s boldness.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m thirty-five, Mrs. Sutter.”
“Not so young then,” she said. “I read about you. You don’t let them push you around, do you?”
Though I wasn’t sure who she meant by “them” I took it as a compliment. “No,” I answered. “I don’t.”
“Good,” she said, pointing a finger at me. “You make sure. You keep an eye on them. I don’t want any mistakes. I’ve put too many of my babies in the ground, Ms. Brent. You promise me. Right here. Right now. You make sure Detective Cruz and the rest of them get it right.”
“That’s my job,” I said. “And it’s his job, too. He’s a good one.”
She nodded, then pointed her finger at Nikki. Nikki put on a smile and froze it in place as Georgette Sutter walked around her and went back to the passenger side of the car. She braced herself on the hood, her left leg moving slower than her right.
She climbed in, reached over, and turned the key. The engine sprang to life and Mrs. Sutter fastened her seatbelt again.
“Sorry about that,” Nikki said. “She talks in riddles a lot.”
“No,” I said. “It’s okay. I get it. I had a grandparent just like that. I’m glad to see she seems to be holding up. How are you? Is there anything I can do for you? I can put you in touch with …”
“No,” Nikki said a little sharply. “We can take care of ourselves. I’ve been ... I’m going to stay here in Waynetown for a little while. The funeral was pretty rough on my grandparents. She still isn’t over losing our dad in a car accident ten years ago. Losing Kevin, his only son, too ... well, we haven’t even told my grandpa yet.”
“I see,” I said.
“He’s not all there anymore,” she said. “He still recognizes me. But I think if he really understood what all happened, I don’t think he’d survive it, Ms. Brent. I just ... I’m worried what will happen if you have to call either of my grandparents at the trial. Lord, even them being in a courtroom.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said. “I think you’re managing well just the way you are. One thing at a time.”
I pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “I’m going to put you in touch with a liaison out of my office. If you have questions, if you need anything. You or your grandparents. Whatever time of day …”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the card. “This is hard for us.”
“Of course.”
“No,” she said. “We don’t, well, Sutters take care of their own. This whole thing has been so public. It’s been very difficult for everyone to be on display like this. I know it’s only going to get worse whenever they catch who did this. My brother and me ... I loved him. Don’t get me wrong. He was my big brother. My only sibling. And losing our dad ten years ago brought us so much closer. But he wasn’t perfect. I’m just worried about people getting the wrong idea about him.”
“In what way?” I asked.
“Kevin was hard to like sometimes,” she said. “But he was trying to be a good dad to Ava, despite what his ex says. I’m just so glad that sweet little girl wasn’t with him that day at the house.”
Nikki’s voice broke. Her face went white.
I tried to pull up a mental image of the file we had on Kevin Sutter. He shared a three-year-old daughter with an ex. I couldn't recall off the top of my head whether they were married or not.
“Nikki,” I said. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t want to make more trouble where there doesn’t need to be.”
“If you know something. No matter how minor, it could help,” I said. “Did Kevin confide something in you?”
“No,” she said. “Not exactly. It’s just, he was having a lot of baby mama drama over the last few months. Lea, Ava’s mom, was suing for primary custody. She was trying to take away Kevin’s visitation. Now, with everything that’s happening, my grandparents are really worried they’re never going to get to see that little girl at all. She means a lot to them. She brings them joy. And we haven’t been able to see her since Kevin died. They wouldn’t even bring her to her own father’s funeral. Is that allowed? Is there some way, some legal way we can get visitation for my grandparents?”
“It wouldn’t be something within my power, no. Things are so raw right now, I’d imagine. For both families. Maybe when the dust settles a little …”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea.”
“No, I’m sorry,” she blurted. I sensed she was already regretting telling me that much. “I have to get my grandmother back home. We don’t like leaving my grandpa alone for too long.”
“Take care of yourself, Nikki,” I said. “And I meant what I said. Don’t be afraid to reach out.”
“Thanks,” she said. Then Nikki Sutter slid into the driver’s side and backed her car out of her spot. My breath caught as she nearly clipped the bumper of the car parked behind her.
I waved goodbye, then got behind my own wheel. I sat for a moment, considering everything Nikki had to say. Before I could back out myself, my phone rang. I pressed the “accept” button on my dashboard home screen.
“Mara?” Sam’s voice filled my car. I turned the volume down.
“Hey, Sam,” I said. “I was just about to call you. I had an interesting conversation with Nikki Sutter in the Meijer parking lot just now. Do we know how ugly the custody fight was getting between Kevin Sutter and his ex? I know it’s a long shot. It would make a certain amount of sense if Kevin were the only victim, but a massacre like that?”
“Lea Shane,” he answered. “That’s Kevin’s ex. They didn’t have anything on the docket in common pleas over the kid, but I interviewed Lea two days after the murders. She seemed pretty broken up. She had an alibi. She was staying with her folks that weekend. The kid was with her.”
“Hmm,” I said.
“Anyway, Mara, I’m calling because I may have a break in the case. I’m getting ready to write a search warrant. Cell records came back on Mickey Harvey, Skylar Sutter’s on-again off-again boyfriend.”
“Harvey,” I said. “You mean from the neighboring family?”
“That’s the one,” he said.
“I don’t remember a search warrant on any of the Harveys’ phones, Sam.”
“Mara, listen. I got the full forensics back on Skylar’s phone. There are some disturbing texts from Mickey to her in the last few days before the murder. And Mickey’s phone hit the tower that serves Skylar’s house at ten the morning of the murders. He was there, Mara. The kid was there.”
My pulse quickened. “Sam, have you interviewed him?”
“Yeah,” he said. “He never once mentioned being at Skylar’s place. He told me he saw her the day before, not the morning of.”
“He lied,” I said.
“Bingo,” Sam said.
“What do you need?” I asked.
“I just want to run the warrant by you. I want to search Mickey’s house. And I want to bring him in for a formal interview.”
“I’ll be right there,” I said, hoping like hell this would be the break we were looking for.
9
Sam hoped to keep things quiet when he brought Mickey Harvey in for questioning. So did I. But by the time the patrol car pulled up to deposit Mickey through a non-public entrance to the Sheriff’s Department, word had already got out.
“Come on,” Detective Gus Ritter said. He took my arm and led me through a separate door. We went to the observation room next to the largest interrogation room the Maumee County Sheriff’s Department had. We’d need it. Besides Gus and me, Sheriff Clancy and Kenya crowded in.
“You ever met him?” Ritter said to Clancy. Just then, Mickey Harvey entered the adjoining room. I took out my notepad and claimed a chair closest to the one-way glass.
I had a bio sheet on Mickey. He had a bit of a record. The worst of it was a drunk driving charge from two years ago. A handful of juvenile offenses. Underage drinking, shoplifting a pack of cigarettes when he was fifteen. But looking at him now, I’d have guessed he was trying to put all of that behind him.
He was clean-shaven with dark-blond hair he wore slicked back and tucked behind his ears. Just twenty-five, he could have passed for much older judging by the bags under his eyes. He was steady, though. No fidgeting. No scratching at his skin or rapid blinking that would have signaled drug withdrawal. It wasn’t definitive, of course. But I was already trying to gauge how Mickey would read to a jury if he ever took the stand.
Sam came in a few minutes later holding a clipboard. Mickey didn’t realize, but his interrogation had already begun the moment he took his seat.
“Mickey,” Sam said. “I want to make a few things clear. You’re not under arrest. You’re free to leave this room anytime you want. We clear on that?”
“Yeah,” Mickey said. He had a gravelly voice. He sat with his hands folded in front of him.
“Good,” Sam said. “I have some follow-up questions. You remember we talked a couple of weeks ago? The day after Skylar Sutter’s body was found.”
“Of course I remember,” Mikey said.
“Do you remember what I asked you?” Sam asked.
“You asked me if I knew who might have done that to Sky,” Mickey said. His eyes turned red. “I told you, I don’t know. I still don’t.”
Sam took a piece of paper off his clipboard and handed it to Mickey. “You wanna tell me about that?”
Mickey read the paper. Maybe two seconds later, he slammed it down on the table.
“No,” he said. “No way.” He slid the paper back at Sam.
“That’s a partial transcript of some texts we found on Skylar Sutter’s phone. You want to tell me what that was about? Two days before she died, she texted you she wanted some space. It sounds like she called off a date you were supposed to go on the night before she was shot, Mickey.”
“So what?” he said. “That had to do with her folks, not me. She was worried about what her folks were going to say when we told them we were planning to get married. We were supposed to get married last year. It just got complicated. Her folks, my dad. Trying to please everybody. So we postponed it and were going to elope. It was like that with Sky and me. She had a temper. And her dad was really hard on her. Like she could never please him. He was not a good guy. Ask around.”
“I see,” Sam said. “You want to explain why you didn’t mention this fight when I talked to you last?”
“It wasn’t a fight,” Mickey said. “Sky was just stressed out. She was studying for an exam. You know she was trying to be a respiratory therapist. That was her dad and brother’s idea. Not Sky’s. She and me ... we wanted to move out of Waynetown. It was just a lot of stuff coming to a head.”
“Mickey,” Sam said. “When was the last time you saw Skylar?”
He sat back, draped his arm over the back of the empty chair beside him. I had a copy of Mickey’s preliminary cell phone report in front of me. Gus leaned in and looked at the entry I had my finger on.
“Watch this,” Gus whispered.
“I saw her the Thursday morning before she died,” Mickey said. “She’d spent the night at my place the night before. Instead of going out like I wanted, she just came over. We talked.”
“About what?” Sam asked.
“None of your business,” Mickey answered.
“You didn’t go over there at all Friday?” Sam asked.
“No,” Mickey answered.
“Mickey,” Sam said, keeping his voice steady. “I’m trying to figure out who put a bullet into your girlfriend’s head. You really want to get in the way of that?”
Mickey dropped his head. He hid his face in his hands and let out a great, sighing breath. When he looked up, tears had filled his eyes.
“We talked about running away together,” he said. “This is killing me. Sky was my whole life, man.”
“Why were your parents opposed to the two of you getting married, Mickey?” Sam asked.
Mickey put flat palms against the table.
“Sky’s family didn’t like you, did they?” Sam said. “They liked to meddle. Get in Skylar’s ear. Was that it?”
“Yes!” he hissed. “It was ju
st a bunch of stupid crap. Total BS. Her great-grandpa pissed off my great-grandpa or some crap like that. I don’t even know. Frickin’ boomers. We laughed about it.”
“But what about you, Mickey? Huh? You personally. I heard they told you not to come around anymore. I heard Skylar’s dad told you he’d kick your ass if he saw you on their property. Is that true?”
“I told you. Not a good dude. He was overprotective,” Mickey said. “He and Sky’s mom both. And they were completely dysfunctional, those two. Sky’s mom used to threaten to leave all the time. She was messed up. Bipolar or something. Sky tried to be the peacemaker. Her brother Luke got out as quick as he could. Not Sky. She told me once she had to stay there to keep them both happy. She was twenty-two years old! They manipulated her. She was going to move in with me. Then, I don’t know. Her mom and dad just ran the same guilt trip on her they always did and she changed her mind.”
“That must have made you pretty angry with Sky and her parents,” Sam said.
“No. Screw that. I didn’t shoot them. And I didn’t kill Sky. I would never …” He broke then. “I loved her. Do you get what I’m saying? I loved her! If anything, she’d have been more likely to shoot me.”
“When was the last time you went over to Sky’s house, Mickey?” Sam asked.
“I told you. She came to my place that Wednesday night. I drove her home the next morning. I guess it was Thursday morning. Then that was it. That was the last time I saw her. I swear.”
“You’re telling me, you were at Skylar’s house just to drop her off on Thursday, May 17th? In the morning?”
“That’s what happened,” he insisted.
Sam pulled out another piece of paper. “You’re lying, Mickey. We ran your cell phone records.”
“You can’t do that!” he said. “That’s illegal.”
“It isn’t,” he said. “We got your number off Skylar’s phone. Now you want to tell me the truth?”
“I told you the truth. I didn’t see her after Thursday. I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space. I was getting ready to go stay with a buddy of mine down in Lexington. I was going to be gone for a week. I figured that’d give us both a chance to cool off.”