by C. M. Sutter
We pulled out of the sheriff’s office parking lot at ten thirty and headed west, and we’d connect with Highway 45 five minutes later. From there, we’d turn north and drive the very route where the fatal accident took place. Prior to leaving, I called Lynn Purdy to make sure she wasn’t going to be a no-show. In a roundabout way, I explained that this interview wasn’t optional and a second statement was necessary. She promised to be there, and before hanging up, Lynn described herself as a five-foot-nine-inch redhead. That was all I needed to know, and I was sure she wouldn’t be hard to spot once she walked through the door.
The drive to Kewaskum would take fifteen minutes, and I wanted to review Lynn’s original statement before she arrived. Reading what she had said before, compared to now, would reveal how much, if any, her account of the accident might have changed.
I had heard good reviews of the Coffee Bean’s breakfast and lunch menu, and it was a central location to meet, anyway. The restaurant was said to have a Pacific Northwest vibe—hippie mixed with a Seattle industrial flair. As we walked through the doors, I noticed that the décor was spot-on. Amber and I opted for a table near the rear of the restaurant. With lunchtime fast approaching and the restaurant filling up, we wanted to have a discreet conversation with the witnesses without broadcasting to the public why we were there.
We took our seats, and a shredded-jeans-wearing twenty-something pink-haired waitress with a pad and pen approached our table. Her name tag read Kylie.
“Hi. What can I start you off with?”
Amber took the lead and wiggled her finger for the young lady to come closer. “We’re detectives from the sheriff’s office and will be doing a few interviews over the next several hours. Right now coffee is fine, but we’ll be having lunch a bit later.”
“Way cool. Okay, would you like regular or decaf?”
We both spoke up. “Regular sounds great.”
“Okeydokey, I’ll bring a carafe right over.”
I waited until she was out of earshot before discussing Lynn Purdy’s original statement with Amber. “Scoot closer so you can read this alongside me. That way her first statement is fresh in both of our minds.”
We silently read the three-paragraph account.
Amber’s eyes bulged. “Wow, she was parallel with Becca’s car when it began to swerve. That had to be scary. Lynn says she nearly hit the ditch to avoid being clipped by Becca. According to this statement, she said the female driver was looking down.” Amber stared at me. “Could Becca really have been texting?”
“Not if she was swerving back and forth. I don’t think texting would be that important once she started losing control of her car.” I put my index finger to my lip—the waitress was returning.
Kylie grinned as she placed the carafe on the table. “Here you go, Detectives, a freshly brewed pot. I’ll admit, I’ve never talked to a real detective before. It’s sick.” She tipped her head toward the container on the table. “The cream and sugar are right there.”
We thanked her, and she walked away and picked up an order. I shook my head. “Sick? Does that mean cool?”
Amber chuckled as she gave a side-eyed glance toward the front door. “I think so, and I believe our first witness is here.” A tall redhead stood in the doorway and scanned the restaurant. Amber caught her attention with a wave, and Lynn headed our way.
I pulled out a clean sheet of paper and placed it on top of the witness statement folder. “It’ll be interesting to hear if her story is still the same as before.”
When Lynn reached our table, we stood and introduced ourselves. The only explanation we gave her for the second interview was that since several lawsuits were in the works, we needed very detailed and precise accounts of how the accident went down. Insurance companies and attorneys wanted answers for their clients.
Lynn settled in after pouring coffee into an empty cup for herself. “So what can I do to help?”
“We need your best recollection of the accident because of possible lawsuits. Many times people recall things they forgot to mention at the time.” I took a sip of coffee and continued. “Go back to that morning in your mind and just say what you see as if you were there right now.”
“That’s a scary thought.”
“Sorry, but it’s necessary.” Amber and I waited in silence.
Lynn closed her eyes. “I had just left work and was heading home. I do overnight in-home health care three nights a week. I remember it being a sunny morning and even had my window lowered. Everyone was just doing their own thing when the car directly ahead and to my right swerved violently left. It almost took off my front bumper. I didn’t want to slam on my brakes for fear of getting rear-ended.”
Amber gave me a sharply arched eyebrow. “Go on.”
“I swerved right to get as far away from it as possible and ended up on the shoulder, where I stayed. I remember my heart pounding in my chest.”
I wrote down her comments. “I bet it was awful. Then what?”
“Then the car swerved right again. People slammed on their brakes and darted every which way. The car finally veered left through the median and into oncoming traffic. The rest was a nightmare.”
“And did you see the car brake at any time? Or the person inside?”
“Neither, but I heard it was a college-aged girl.” She paused as if she had a thought.
“Something else come to mind?”
“Um, yeah, just a flash of another car that was to the left of me. I remember glancing over to see who was driving because the music was so loud. It was a woman, and she wasn’t even watching where she was going. She was looking down at her phone. People like that cause accidents.”
I smiled. “But not in this case, right?”
“Oh no.” She wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry. I was a wreck at the time, and I think I got my statement wrong. I didn’t see the driver of the swerving car at all.”
We stood, gave her our contact cards, thanked her for her time, then watched as she walked out.
Amber rubbed her forehead and sat back down. “So she mistook the car next to her for Becca’s car when she gave her original witness statement. She never saw Becca at all.”
“Apparently not, but that doesn’t mean Becca wasn’t texting. Remember what her phone showed?” I warmed up our coffees.
“True, but the texts were just garbled nonsense, so that’s telling me she was already in distress.”
With a quick glance at my cell phone, I saw we had only seven minutes before Mike Morton was due to arrive. I pulled out his witness statement and read it. “According to Donnelly, Mr. Morton seemed calm and strangely detached at the accident scene but was curious enough to ask if the person who caused the accident was dead. Odd that he wondered that after seeing a semi lay on its side after crashing into two cars that burst into flames, another car on its roof, and multiple fender benders.”
“I’d say that’s odd. What was his account?” Amber took a look at the front door. Nobody had come in yet.
“He said cars braked and skidded, including his own, after Becca’s car started swerving wildly from one lane to the next. Humph.”
“What?”
“Mr. Morton must be an odd duck in general. His next comment was that the way cars parted in the northbound lanes reminded him of how Moses parted the Red Sea.” I frowned. “What a strange thing to say when you’re staring at carnage unfolding right in front of you.”
“It takes all kinds.” Amber checked the door again just as a man stepped over the threshold. “Speaking of—”
“Yep, that’s him. He said he’d be wearing a red shirt.” I stood and waved.
He tipped his head and walked over with an outstretched hand. “I’m Mike Morton, and who are you little ladies?”
His demeanor instantly rubbed me the wrong way. I had already spoken to him on the phone yesterday and told him he’d be meeting Amber and myself.
“We’re Detectives Kate Pierce and Amber Monroe from the Washburn Coun
ty Sheriff’s Office.”
“That’s right. Detectives, eh? Very interesting.”
“What is?” I stared at the man, who appeared to be in his mid-forties. His medium-brown hair had turned gray at the temples, and a goatee wrapped his mouth. His hazel eyes seemed to be twinkling as if he enjoyed the limelight.
“That women are detectives these days, and here I gave my original statement to a mere male patrol officer.”
“This is the twenty-first century, Mr. Morton, and that patrol officer would be Deputy Tim Donnelly.” I nodded at the empty chair between Amber and me. “Why don’t you take a seat? We have a few questions for you.”
“Sure, why not.” He turned and waved to get Kylie’s attention since we were fresh out of clean cups on the table.
I rolled my eyes at Amber then squeezed them closed momentarily. I felt a headache coming on.
Mr. Morton turned his attention back to us. “Now, what can I do for you ladies?”
Chapter 27
“So what is it you do for a living, Mr. Morton?” I asked.
“I own quite a few rental properties and consider myself very lucky. I’m not at a nine-to-five grind where I’m stuck in the workplace and can’t play my part of a concerned citizen to help out you officers.”
Amber corrected him. “Detectives.”
“Right. Anyway”—he glanced at his watch—“what do you need to know?”
“We need your statement again, if you don’t mind,” I said.
“Because?”
I smiled through gritted teeth. My headache didn’t help the irritation I felt toward him, and he stank of cigarettes. I poured myself a fresh cup of coffee and remembered that at some point in life, I’d read that caffeine helped with headaches. “Because of insurance claims and lawsuits, that sort of thing. Lawyers want exact accounts since people get called into court on occasion to state what they saw if it goes that far. So whenever you’re ready.”
“Yeah, okay. I saw the car swerve left, then right, then left and across the median. The driver ended up in the northbound lanes, and cars scattered everywhere, but some were caught up in the crashes. It was a case of real-life bumper cars.” He rubbed his brow and shook his head as a smile crossed his face. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Amber pulled back, obviously irritated. “And why is that something to smile about?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Call it an adrenaline rush if you like. You don’t want to see it, yet you can’t take your eyes off it.”
I wrote down his comments, no matter how weird they were. “Where were you going that morning?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Nowhere in particular, just out for a morning drive. It was sunny that day and warm, as I recall. I had no idea I’d be witnessing something that intense. I mean, three people died in front of my eyes. They were alive one minute and dead the next. Damn crazy shit.”
His stare unnerved me. It was as if he enjoyed every second he reminisced about the accident.
“Do you remember seeing brake lights flash?”
He swatted the air. “That girl never even tapped the brakes. She was passed out or dead before she hit the tree.”
I leaned across the table, mere inches from his face. “And what leads you to that conclusion?”
“I’m an intelligent man, Detective, and it’s pure physics. Fear of dying would have forced her to hit the brakes. It’s a natural instinct. The autopsy must have confirmed something by now.”
“We aren’t at liberty to discuss that with you, Mr. Morton. Is there anything else you remember that wasn’t mentioned in the first interview?” Amber asked.
“Nope, I’m a thorough guy and never leave anything unsaid or undone. What you have in the first statement is what I stand by.”
I pushed back my chair and stood. “Great, then I guess we’re finished.” A wave of dizziness washed over me, and I grabbed the table’s edge. Luckily, Amber didn’t appear to notice.
She stood and handed him a card. “If you think of anything else—”
He cut off her comment as he dropped a dollar bill on the table. “Yeah, make sure to call. Have a nice day, ladies.” He turned and walked out.
I sat and steadied myself in the chair. I took in a slow breath and felt better. “That man was this far”—I gestured a space of an inch with my fingers—“from getting on my last nerve. I need more coffee and a handful of ibuprofen.” I caught Kylie’s attention and asked for a glass of water and two lunch menus.
Chapter 28
Suspicion filled his mind as he waited to turn left at the stoplight. He checked the time once more—botany exams were scheduled to begin in forty-five minutes.
What the hell did those bitches really want, and why did they choose me to talk to? It couldn’t have been a coincidence.
His mind went to that dark place where paranoia and self-doubt crept in.
Women are deceitful—they cheat and lie. We know that from experience, don’t we, Isabelle? Daphne and Becca, you got what you deserved too.
He thought about Naomi Hahn. She was the last one who still had exams, had also pleaded for a passing grade, and admitted she’d do nearly anything to get one. She made a deal with the devil, yet she always found a reason not to show up for their prearranged rendezvous. Mike would teach her a lesson in more ways than one, and he’d make certain she’d fail the botany exam that day.
He thought about those nosy female detectives again as he stepped on the gas.
Keep your distance, ladies, or you might get a failing grade too.
Chapter 29
It was one forty-five, and we were driving back to North Bend. I let out a hard breath as I looked over notes from the three interviews.
Amber gave me an eyebrow raise. “That sounded discouraging.”
“It is. Nobody’s recollection of the accident was different than before except Lynn’s, and even then, it doesn’t explain why Becca crashed and died.”
I noticed Amber glance out the window as we passed the man-made ski hill to our right. A quick smile lit her face.
“Memories?”
“Definitely. I remember Jade and my dad trying to teach me to ski there when I was only five. I never did catch on.”
“But it was the experience that counted, right?”
“It was priceless.” She let out a heartfelt sigh. “Anyway, we won’t have the answers we want until the toxicology reports come back.”
“And until then? Do we just resume our usual activities of filing and closing out old cases?”
Amber shrugged. “Probably, but first let’s hear what the guys found out from digging deeper with the parents. The girls may have mentioned people from the university who slipped under our radar. Don’t forget, we still have interviews to do with their hometown friends too. Two girls from the same university dying in the same week seems too coincidental to me, and the more people we talk to, the more chances there are of finding that one person they had in common. That might be all it takes to link their deaths.”
We were back at the sheriff’s office a few minutes after two. Amber pressed the code and pushed the bull pen door open, and we entered to see Clayton and Billings sitting in Jack’s office with him.
Jack waved us in. “Anything worth mentioning?”
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, the pounding headache I had is finally going away after a handful of ibuprofen and three cups of coffee. Witness number two got on my nerves the minute I met him.”
“I’ll second that,” Amber said.
“Sorry to hear it. Anything else?”
“Not really, and certainly nothing that gave us reason to think Becca’s accident happened any other way than how the witnesses originally said.”
“Okay, go downstairs and get the cell phones from Forensics. I want both of you to work on the contact lists for the rest of the day. Interview everyone who answers their phones. Find out if either girl talked about new aches and pains to their hometown friends and get names of any
one they may have mentioned from school that they possibly had issues with.”
“Good enough.” I handed the witness interview statements to Jack along with what we’d gathered from our meetings that day. Amber said she’d retrieve the cell phones and headed for the door. Back at my desk, I placed my purse in the drawer and pulled out a legal pad, ready for note taking. I glanced at Chad when he and Billings returned to their desks. “Did the parents provide anything helpful?”
“Becca’s mom said as close as they were, Becca didn’t discuss people from school with her. I’m assuming it’s probably because the mom didn’t know them, anyway.”
“Did she give you the names of Becca’s closest friends in Tomah? We can cross-reference them with the names on her cell phone list.”
“Yep, here you go, but there’s only two names.” Chad opened the folder lying on his desk and pulled out the top sheet of paper. “According to the mom, Becca had plenty of acquaintances in high school, especially on the track-and-field team, but only two friends she hung out with on a regular basis.”
I looked at the names—Jodi Prentice and Marie McFarlane. “I guess only having two best friends isn’t that unusual. I hope there are more than that on her contact list, though. How about you, Billings?”
He held out his sheet of names. “Daphne had a lot of hometown friends. Maybe you guys can split up the list.”
I thanked him and counted the names he had gathered from Daphne’s parents. There were fourteen in total but no phone numbers. We’d retrieve them from her phone’s contact list. “She probably had more friends because Manitowoc is larger than Tomah—more students to know.”
Billings nodded. “Maybe.”
Minutes later, Amber was back with both cell phones. “Forensics doesn’t need them anymore—none of the prints were in the system. Once we’re done with the names, the parents can have them.” She handed Becca’s phone to me. “Jack did get warrants for the phone records, didn’t he?”
Clayton said that he had.