The Girl in the Woods

by Gregg Olsen

  Tess wasn’t having any of that. “Your kind of love is sick. She was just a girl. You had no business getting involved with her!”

  Kendall moved in and stood between the two women. “This is not the time or place,” she said.

  The song was over.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong,” Connie said, now shattered into tears of her own. “I was only her friend.” She looked at Kendall. “Tell her that!”

  “Tess,” Kendall said, “she’s telling the truth.”

  Connie looked at the detective. “You said you wouldn’t say anything. I trusted you.”

  Birdy wished she hadn’t come.

  “I didn’t,” Kendall said.

  Katie looked around for some support, but there wasn’t any. “I did. I’m sorry. I did. I just thought that—”

  Connie spun around. “Katie, how could you? I’ve been in a domestic partnership for more than a year. Millicent and I are going to be married this summer. I’m not ashamed of that, but I’m ashamed of you.” She turned to face Kendall. “I’m not a predator. You’ve ruined my life. How do you sleep at night?”

  “Wait a minute,” Kendall said. Everything about what was happening at Memorial Lane was wrong. Could not be more wrong. “Please not here.”

  Connie stood up straight. “I won’t be silenced. I’m going to sue you and Kitsap County. If I lose my job over this, I’ll sue the school district.”

  “Look, you’re getting ahead of yourself. I didn’t ruin your life. I believed you when you told me there was nothing to the rumor.”

  The rumor.

  Katie let the floodgates open. Not tears for her friend. Not tears for Ms. Mitchell, but tears of regret.

  “It’s all my fault,” she said, tears now streaming down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I started the rumors. I did. I thought that Darby had a boyfriend and it made me so mad. I wanted to get even with her. She told me that she was spending time with you, but not in a bad way.”

  One of the art boys went over to Katie and put his arm around her.

  “You didn’t mean it,” he said. “I know it.”

  The minister pushed a button and the casket slowly dipped into the hole, disappearing from view. Tess had brought a basket of Beanie Babies to let each person lay one on top, but no one did.

  Tess just stood there, next to the hole. She looked over at the gravestones for her husband, her other daughter. She had nothing. No one to blame. No one to stab in the heart for doing what they did to her daughter.

  No one. Not really. Only herself.

  Amanda said something about having a small gathering at her house in Gig Harbor, but she understood that the drive was too far for most people to come.

  “Tess appreciates everyone for being here,” she said. “Darby is with the angels now.” She stopped and looked to the minister for some kind of closing remarks, but the man just stood there like a memorial park statue. He might have been blinking in shock about all that had been going on around him, but with those dark glasses no one could tell.

  As far as funerals go, the one for Darby Moreau was unforgettable for all of the wrong reasons. It was, most definitely, not a celebration of anything.

  CHAPTER 24

  Kendall Stark and other officers from the Kitsap County sheriff’s office conducted a thorough search of the Roberts home on Camellia Street early the next morning. Ruby and Micah stood out in the front yard with their mother. None of Jennifer’s haters on the block were there to watch the show. Lena and her husband had gone to Seaside, Oregon, to visit her sister. Molly O’Rourke was working at the convalescent center in Silverdale.

  Molly more than anyone would regret that she hadn’t called in sick.

  “They aren’t going to find anything,” Jennifer said to her son and daughter. “Because there isn’t anything.”

  The warrant Kendall had presented was specific. She was looking for the source of the poison that killed Ted Roberts. The judge who’d signed the warrant allowed the search in only a few specific areas—the kitchen, the garage, a shop—if any—and the bathrooms. The bedroom, living room, and the kids’ bedrooms were considered out of scope.

  “Can I at least get a coat?” Jennifer said when Deputy Gary Wilkins’s blocky frame passed by.

  “I’ll ask,” he said. “Hang on.”

  “Can my kids go to school?”

  “I’ll find out about that too,” he said.

  Minutes later, the deputy returned.

  “Yes to both. Detective Stark says you can get a coat. I’ll take the kids to South.”

  “I don’t have my backpack,” Micah said.

  “I don’t have my purse,” his sister chimed in. “I have to have my keys. I have to close up the shop tonight. It’s my job.”

  “All right. No harm in that.”

  Jennifer donned a stylish leather trench coat, then returned to the yard to watch the crime scene investigators—techs and deputies—emerge with boxes of household cleaning supplies, bottled water, food that had been stored in the refrigerator.

  She hugged her daughter and son and admonished them not to worry.

  “Truth is on my side,” she said. “I’ve faced this before and they didn’t beat me down.”

  Later, after depositing the Roberts teenagers at school, Deputy Wilkins approached Kendall. She was supervising the collection of items from the kitchen. He told her what he’d overheard earlier.

  “She actually said, ‘I’ve faced this before and they didn’t beat me.’ I think she was referring to the dead husband in Arizona.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Gary,” Kendall said. “She’s not going to get away with this.”

  “What makes you so sure?” he asked.

  “That.” She pointed to one of the large plastic totes that the team had brought in. Each had been filled with paper bags of evidence.

  The young deputy looked confused and went over to peek inside. A flash of yellow caught his eye—a plastic bottle of antifreeze.

  “That was in the house?” he asked.

  Kendall nodded. “In the kitchen under the sink.”

  “She’s going down,” he said.

  Kendall agreed. “Oh yeah, she is.”

  Kendall made a quick call to the sheriff and then went outside where Jennifer had been standing by her car. Kendall told the deputy to follow her, which he gladly did.

  “Am I free to go?” Jennifer asked, looking completely put out in her nightgown, slippers, and winter coat. “I’m hungry.”

  Kendall kept her expression flat. Deep down, she loved this part of her job more than any, but she wasn’t a gloater. She didn’t see any need for that.

  “They’ll feed you where I’m taking you,” she said with the tiniest trace of snark in her delivery. She just couldn’t help it. Jennifer Roberts was the type of woman who just did that to other people. She was the type of woman who rubbed other women the wrong way. It wasn’t her gorgeous looks, not really. It was that air of entitlement that seemed to come from every utterance from her perfect mouth.

  Jennifer brightened a little. “Where?”

  Kendall reached in her pocket and pulled out a card. “Jennifer Marie Roberts, you’re under arrest for the murder of your husband, Ted Roberts.”

  “I didn’t do it,” Jennifer said.

  Kendall started reading. It was standard procedure to make sure that no defendant could ever say that their rights were violated because the arresting deputy had made a mistake on Miranda. Kendall read it word by word, instead of a more conversational fluid fashion.

  “You have the right to remain silent . . .”

  As the deputy cuffed Jennifer, she wriggled a little. “Steady,” he said, leading her to the open door of a cruiser.

  “I don’t need a lawyer,” Jennifer said. “I’m innocent. You are so wrong about me, detective.”

  Kendall didn’t answer. Instead, she turned to another deputy.

  “Pick up her kids, Ruby and Micah, from South Kitsap High. I’ll be b
ack at my office. I want them to be together in the car, but separated when you arrive. Let’s see what they know about their mother’s activities.”

  “You think the kids know something?” he asked.

  “The girl does. She hates her mom. She sees her as competition. I got a whiff of that at Desert Enchantment where she works. She’ll crack.”

  While the cars and the bins and bags of evidence filed past Kendall as she stood in the Robertses’ front yard, she phoned Birdy at the coroner’s office.

  “How’d it go?” Birdy asked right away.

  “Better than hoped,” Kendall said. “She’s halfway to booking now.”

  “What’d you find?”

  “A jug of Prestone in the kitchen. Under the sink like some big yellow warning sign on a highway somewhere. Couldn’t miss it.”

  “That’s pretty careless, Kendall.”

  “No one said she was a criminal mastermind. She’s no Brenda Nevins.”

  “Most of them aren’t.”

  “When are you leaving for Arizona?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Lucky you. You’ll get some sun. I wish I could go. The county’s too cheap to send us both.”

  “Right. And in case you haven’t noticed I’m already tan, Kendall.”

  “Sorry. I wish I tanned.”

  “You could always go to Desert Enchantment, Kendall.”

  “Hey, speaking of which, Ruby and Micah are coming in for some questioning. Want to observe?”

  “You bet I do,” Birdy said before switching the subject. “I have a favor to ask. A personal one.”

  “What do you need?” Kendall asked.

  “Can you look in on Elan?”

  “You’re only going to be gone two days.”

  “I know,” she said.

  Kendall smiled at the thought of her friend doing a little mothering. It was good for her to have someone to worry about—someone she loved and, more than anything, was alive.

  Even so she teased her a little.

  “He’s sixteen, Birdy. He can handle it. Honestly, how old were you when your parents left you and your sister alone?”

  Birdy knew that Kendall was right, even so she felt compelled to give her friend a glimpse into her life—something she seldom did.

  “Not a fair comparison,” she said. “My dad was on a fishing boat in Alaska and my mom was, or rather is, an alcoholic. I don’t remember a time when we weren’t left alone.”

  Gary motioned to Kendall that the evidence had been collected and the house was sealed.

  “Gotta go,” Kendall said, hanging up.

  Birdy put down the phone and went to the kitchen for some more terrible coffee. Not that she needed a jolt of caffeine. Talking about growing up on the reservation—something she tried to avoid—had got her to thinking. And thinking meant pacing.

  Even years later, the memories still hurt.

  Birdy looked down at the stack of magazines that had been there forever like dental office rejects.

  On the cover of People magazine was an inset photograph of Brenda Nevins with the headline:

  FATAL BEAUTY CLAIMS

  ABUSE IN PRISON

  Boy, Brenda, that must have made you mad when Kelly Clarkson got the cover? Birdy thought.

  She smiled at the thought and poured some coffee.

  CHAPTER 25

  With their mother in booking at the Kitsap County jail, Ruby and Micah were led into separate interview rooms in a kind of divide-and-conquer technique that investigators employed when talking to witnesses who might lie in order to protect each other or another family member. Jennifer’s children were in a bind. They had no other family in the area. Their stepfather was dead. And, of course, their mother was in custody. Teenagers, in general, hate any kind of inconvenience. This was very, very inconvenient.

  Family ties were frequently like steel at first, but in time, Kendall Stark and other cops knew that steel could rust, then crumble.

  “What do you want me to do?” Birdy asked as she looked in through the two-way mirror that separated Micah’s room from the hall. His sister’s room had no such window. Micah laid his head on his folded arms on top of the table. The teenager was either very tired, or completely distraught. He might have just been bored.

  “You’ll tell the kids what the autopsy results were. You’re free to answer their questions, of course. Be yourself,” Kendall said, opening the door and leading Birdy inside.

  Micah lifted his head right away. “I’m thirsty,” he said.

  Kendall introduced herself and Birdy.

  “I’ll get you something in a moment. Let’s go over a few details first.” She and Kendall sat facing the boy, who leaned back as he verified his age, address, and who his mother was.

  “You keep calling me Micah Roberts. That’s really not my name. My last name is Lake. Just wanted you to know that. Ted never adopted me or my sister. It was my mom’s idea to use his name.”

  “Why didn’t he adopt you?” Kendall asked. “Was there a reason for that?”

  The boy seemed uncertain, picking at his words. “Not really. I mean, my mom always rushed things. I think he would have adopted me and Ruby. He was a cool guy.”

  “You got along with him?” Kendall asked.

  Micah jangled his house keys, picking at each one with his fingertips while Kendall spoke. “Yeah.”

  “Your mom too? She got along with him?”

  He folded his arms across his chest and sat there silently.

  “Was something going on with your mom and stepfather?”

  He put the keys in his pocket. “Ruby said you’d try to blame Mom. My mom loved Ted. I know you don’t think she did. But you’re wrong about her.” His eyes puddled a little and he looked away. There was no way that kid was going to cry in front of two women.

  Not in a zillion years.

  “Look,” Kendall said. “I know this is hard. You’ve been through a lot. I understand.”

  “You couldn’t understand,” he said. “This was our mom’s big ‘let’s start over’ move away from Arizona and all the crap down there. I didn’t want to come. Ruby didn’t want to come. Mom told us that if we didn’t like it we could go back. But we liked it. At least I did. Ruby hated the cold weather here.”

  The boy was struggling and Birdy’s heart went out to him. In some ways, he reminded her of Elan and how he’d just transplanted himself in a new environment, a new school. No kid likes to start over.

  “I’m sure it was quite a change,” she said. “It takes some getting used to.”

  Micah rubbed his eyes with his sleeve.

  “Let’s talk about the morning Ted died.”

  Micah pulled himself together. “Wow,” he said. “That’s hard. I was asleep. I didn’t even know what had happened until my sister came and woke me.”

  “When was that, do you know what time?” Kendall asked.

  “I didn’t look at the clock. I didn’t get out of bed. Ted was always puking and I just didn’t care.”

  “Was it nighttime or morning?”

  “I don’t know. Still dark. But it seems like it is always dark here.”

  “You didn’t get up, though. Is that because you didn’t like him?”

  He shook his head. “I told you I did.”

  “Right, but you didn’t get up when he was in trouble.”

  “I didn’t get up because I thought it was more of the same. I didn’t think he was dead or dying.”

  “All right,” Kendall said.

  “I’m thirsty,” he said. “My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls.”

  Kendall stood. “Let me get you a drink. We have a pop machine down the hall.”

  “Mountain Dew?” he asked, suddenly happy at the prospect of getting something to drink.

  “Sorry. Coke all right?”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks.”

  Kendall went out and disappeared down the hall.

  “I know you’re going through a lot,
Micah,” Birdy said. “I’m sorry. So is the detective.”

  “She doesn’t seem sorry. She’s blaming my mom for everything. You know, my mom isn’t as bad as you guys make her out to be,” he said.

  Birdy shifted in her chair. “Poisoning someone is a pretty serious crime.”

  “She didn’t do it. She’s not like that.”

  “If she didn’t, then someone else did.”

  “He was depressed. He was sick. He wasn’t getting any better. He told me one time that he knew that every one of us would be better off without him.”

  Kendall returned with a can of Diet Coke.

  “Sorry,” she said. “No real Coke.”

  Micah took the can and flipped the top. “It’s okay. Better than nothing.”

  “Why didn’t you get up?” Kendall asked. “The night your stepfather died. I don’t understand.”

  He swallowed his drink in a big gulp. “Look, it isn’t nice to say so, but the truth was he was always puking. Ted was a drunk. I didn’t see any need. I just wanted to get some sleep.”

  There was callousness to his words, beyond what was said. How he said it. The kid didn’t really care at all.

  “So he died at night,” Kendall said. “Your stepfather. It wasn’t in the morning, was it?”

  Micah just sat there. “I don’t know when he died. Can I go back to school now?”

  A few minutes later, both the forensic pathologist and the detective took seats in the small interview room where Ruby Lake had spilled the contents of her purse to pass the time. She’d sorted her cosmetics and was in the middle of texting and scrolling through her Facebook account—looking every bit the teenage dream that she most undeniably was. She was pretty like her mother. Maybe prettier. Her teeth were blindingly white—a service the tanning salon offered on its upsell chart. Her lightly tanned skin amplified the brightness of her smile, the blue of her eyes. Her hair was long, blond and streaked, as though the sun had done its job.

  “I know why I’m here,” she said, looking up after hitting the SEND button.

  “Right,” Kendall said after introducing Birdy. “Because your stepfather died of poisoning and we’re investigating the case as a homicide.”