Love Me or Else

by Colin McEvoy

  “Yeah, I mean, that could get you depressed and…” Egan started.

  “It’s like living in a bombed-out place,” Mary Jane said.

  “Right,” Egan said.

  “It’s like, it’s like a bombed-up mess, and it does something. It works on your brain, it works on your mind, and it worked on my mind for so long.”

  Mary Jane seemed to hesitate before adding, “I’m sorry they never approached me for money. This hurts me, because … It hurts me.…”

  “’Cause you’re active in the church for fourteen years,” Stumpo said.

  “I’m active in the church and around these ladies, I know these people, why wouldn’t they?” Mary Jane said. “If they had other issues, they could have come to me for money. You’d be surprised, the person that might not have much is willing to give more money than a person that does. I’ll cut out something that I want and give, you know, that type thing. I’m very charitable and generous. I’m always like that, and I know the pastor always appreciated it.”

  Mary Jane continued speaking about some of her financial difficulties, and eventually steered into a discussion about taking care of her mother. Stumpo, feeling the conversation start to spin off into another tangent, tried to bring Mary Jane back into focus.

  “So listen,” he said. “Corporal Egan and I are investigating Rhonda’s death.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mary Jane said.

  “We’re looking for some answers and I personally don’t know that there’s going to be any closure at that church until we find some answers,” Stumpo said. “We’re talking to a lot of people and you seem like you’re an active person in the church and so forth, so if you know anything, maybe you could tell us.”

  After pondering the question for a few seconds, Mary Jane started to discuss an adult Sunday School class she had participated in recently.

  “We were discussing the forgiveness idea, and we were talking about what do we think grace is, forgiveness and everything, and John Catino, that’s the name of our adult Sunday School teacher, he turned the subject to this business with Rhonda. And I thought, ‘This is not what a Sunday School person is supposed to be talking about.’”

  Mary Jane looked at Stumpo, “I believe John Catino expressed, what I gathered, he feels there is a possibility that one of us in this congregation could have done it.”

  “Really?” Stumpo said.

  “He said he pooh-poohed the idea of the one-armed-man doing it. You know, Richard Kimble?”

  Stumpo nodded, aware that Mary Jane was referencing the main character from the old television series, The Fugitive.

  “No one believed Richard Kimble,” Mary Jane said. “They were chasing him like he did it, but he knew it was the one-armed man. And Mr. Catino mentioned the fact that this stranger had supposedly stopped at the church.”

  “Right,” Stumpo said. “Some mysterious, out-of-town man.”

  “Mr. Catino pooh-poohed the idea. The idea that some stranger did it,” Mary Jane said. “He didn’t say it with the same wording but he made insinuations. I found that to be irritating because with my heart and soul I love to be comfortable in church, I want to relax, we’re trying to find closure on this whole thing.”

  “But that is a possibility,” Egan said.

  “It can’t…” Mary Jane said.

  “That is a possibility,” Egan repeated.

  “That is a possibility,” Stumpo echoed.

  “That somebody within the church did this,” Egan said.

  “It’s possible it could have been a friend of hers, it could have been a neighbor,” Mary Jane said. “It could have been anybody.”

  “That’s what I mentioned earlier,” Stumpo said.

  “What?”

  “About there being closure at the church,” Stumpo said. “Because some people are like Mr. Catino, they don’t…”

  “They don’t want to give up, they do not believe, they don’t want to…” Mary Jane started.

  “There’s a lot of pressure on the church,” Stumpo said.

  “I know,” Mary Jane said.

  “There’s a lot of pressure on us,” Stumpo said.

  “That’s right,” Mary Jane said.

  “There’s a lot of pressure on Pastor Shreaves,” Stumpo said. “And Pastor Shreaves has been at that church for only a short period of time. I talked to him, and how he’s been, I don’t think he’s doing well. We don’t know. For him, we want to find the answer. We want to find answers for Rhonda’s family, and for Pastor Shreaves ’cause he’s under a lot of pressure. And the congregation itself. They’re scared, they’re nervous, they’re worried.”

  Mary Jane nodded, “Of course. They were so close to her. Many people were very close to her. I can appreciate the position he is in because he’s done counseling work. I know how he was like with me, how friendly and open and nice he was to me. I enjoyed his company. I liked sitting there singing and, you know, laughing. They were a lot of fun, he’s a nice guy.”

  Stumpo said, “But we don’t know how long he’s going to be able to be like this.”

  “He was probably that way with Rhonda. He was probably that way with Ronnie,” Mary Jane said. Egan felt throughout the whole interview, Mary Jane had been trying to create an impression that she and Rhonda were close friends, and that Rhonda’s death had upset her deeply. But they had been talking for about an hour and forty-five minutes now, and this was the first time they had heard her refer to Rhonda as “Ronnie.”

  Mary Jane continued, “I realize what happened, it could change into where he might not want to be with the church and may want to move on.”

  “Absolutely,” Stumpo said.

  “The pastor, he’s going to say, ‘How can you face this thing?’” she said. “He would be in a better position, to start over somewhere else or ask the church for a transfer to a new location.”

  “The whole church might really think to do that themselves,” Stumpo said.

  “That’s right, they might,” Mary Jane said. “And I think it’s a shame.”

  “That’s why we need to find out what happened,” Egan said. “Because it’s affecting the pastor and it’s affecting the church. This question has to be answered because this church will never be the same.”

  “It’s not going to be the same,” Mary Jane agreed.

  “It will never be the same,” Egan said.

  Egan wanted to steer the topic to the murder itself. “What do you think happened, Mary Jane?” he asked.

  “What I kept thinking was it was a freakish thing that happened, just some freak accident, it would have to be,” she replied. “Truthfully, I don’t see how anyone in my church could do that. I couldn’t do a thing like that.”

  “Well, what do you think happened?” Egan asked.

  “Do you remember Charles Stockbrother?” Mary Jane started in. “The cases of Charles Stockbrother and his girlfriend, they went on a rampage all over the United States killing people. These things are going on all the time around the country.” Mary Jane was mistakenly referring to Charles Starkweather, who murdered eleven people in five states during the late 1950s.

  “So you think that’s a possibility?” Egan deadpanned. He had no idea who she was talking about.

  “It could be a possibility,” Mary Jane insisted. She paused and continued, “I’ll tell you, I always liked the pastor. I had very sexual kind of feelings, warm feelings about the man, but that’s not a reason to hurt, you know, do this lady in.”

  Stumpo interjected, “When Bob and I find out who did this, what do you think should happen to that person? Let’s say they’re a member of the church. Can you forgive them for that?”

  Mary Jane thought it over.

  “What if they decide that I did it?” she asked rhetorically. “It’s like a double standard, one thing applies to me but something else applies to other people. Someone over here would have psychiatric exams, love, kindness, and forgiveness on both sides of the fence. If it was me that did it, I�
��d get my head blown off, too.”

  “So you’d be treated differently?” Egan asked.

  “I would be treated differently, that’s correct,” she answered with a twinge of hurt in her voice.

  “Why is that?” Egan asked.

  “Why is that?” Mary Jane shot back, the anger increasing in her tone. “Because that’s the way my whole life is. My life’s always like that.”

  “You get the lousy end of the stick,” Egan offered.

  “I would get the lousy end of the stick,” Mary Jane said in agreement before pausing. “And I’ll tell you, I didn’t do anything to Rhonda. I may have been upset, I had all kinds of things I was upset about, but it had nothing to do with her.

  “She made me nervous,” she continued. “I understand she had a nervous condition. She did make me nervous, I have admitted that.”

  The troopers were intrigued. “She made you nervous?” Egan asked. “Why did she make you nervous?”

  “She did. Her personality, she had a nervous problem. Her nerves affected my nervous system,” Mary Jane said.

  “Really…” Egan prompted, wanting to hear more.

  “And I felt this a lot of the time,” she continued. “But it was a whole different atmosphere in the choir. In regular church, I wasn’t part of this emotional group of people, but I was very intensely part of this group during the holidays. In the choir, I got into a social group.”

  “Were you involved in anything else like that?” Stumpo asked.

  “I was involved with Stitches of Love,” she said. “I like to crochet. I crocheted blankets in 2006 through the winter. I was a very happy girl. I did a wonderful job through the encouragement of the people of the church.”

  “And the Prime Timers, were you involved in the Prime Timers?” Stumpo continued.

  “I’ve been with the Prime Timers for years, oh yes,” she answered.

  “None of these other groups are the same as the choir with the clique?” Stumpo asked.

  “The Prime Timers is the only other one. The choir is one facet of it. That’s the one where all the major people are involved and I’m getting along fine with everybody in there. The pastor’s friendly, he flies in there…” she trailed off.

  “Oh, geez, about the man. I still like him,” she continued. “And I know it’s hard for the pastor, having had this happen. I’m sure he was a good friend of Rhonda.”

  Suddenly, a new thought occurred to Egan. If Mary Jane was really as religious as she let on, he thought, then surely this murder must be weighing on her conscience at some level. Egan, pausing before broaching his next question, decided to try to draw on that faith and see how she reacted.

  “Now the person who killed Rhonda, do you think they can be saved from going to hell?” he said in a strong, clear voice. The question struck Stumpo as downright eerie, and he was impressed with Egan for pulling it off. It’s like something out of a movie, he thought.

  “I mean, you go to church every week, you’re very religious,” Egan continued. “Could they be saved?”

  Mary Jane got quiet and didn’t say anything for a few moments. “Yes, they can be saved,” she responded.

  “How?” Egan continued.

  “Because you believe in the Lord Jesus,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Jesus will save you?” Egan asked, believing he was on to something.

  “Jesus will save you,” she said. “And I’ll tell you something—”

  Egan cut her off, “As long as you hold yourself accountable for what you did, He’ll save you.”

  Mary Jane got quiet again, and her voice trembled a bit as she began talking again, “Pastor, I know, would love to get the person who did it. Sometimes people have these gut feelings, they think someone did this to her.”

  She was rambling again, Egan thought. Determined not to get off the subject this time, Egan started to speak, but then, in a flash, Mary Jane’s eyes narrowed as she raised her head and stared directly at the troopers.

  “I didn’t do it to her, okay? I believe I’ll be saved, I truly believe this because,” Mary Jane hunched over the table and slowly emphasized each word, “… I … didn’t … do … it.”

  CHAPTER 23

  When Mary Jane professed her innocence, her voice had completely changed into a slower, low-pitched, angry voice that shocked both troopers. It was a voice they hadn’t previously heard in all the hours they had spoken to Mary Jane. A voice that struck them as just plain evil. Egan felt as if Mary Jane’s sweet old lady façade had been cracked, revealing something else altogether hidden underneath.

  This was probably the Mary Jane that Rhonda saw right before she died, Egan thought.

  After a few long moments, Mary Jane continued, back in her normal voice, “I feel sorry for anyone that has a terrible thing happen like that, anyone that murders somebody else, takes a life, anyone that commits a robbery, all these manner of things, I think they are in hell.”

  She stopped for a moment, before something came to mind that got her upset all over again.

  “There’s a chance that some people at the church think that I did this to Rhonda,” she said. “First of all, they never cared for me. They may not like me and that could give them good cause to, you know, blame it on me.”

  Mary Jane stopped talking. The troopers desperately hoped she would continue, but when she didn’t, Stumpo prompted her again.

  “Has anyone accused you?” he asked.

  “Not to my knowledge,” Mary Jane said, starting again. “Mrs. Brunner and Mrs. Zellner, some of the ladies have been a tight knit group of friends for years and I have been on the perimeter. They would have a party, they would go out to dinner together, but they would not think of asking me along with them. It’s that kind of thing. That hurts my feelings.”

  Stumpo started to offer up some sympathy, “Fourteen years in the church…”

  “That’s a long time,” Mary Jane said, nodding her head in agreement. “You really do always hope that you are liked, but you can’t expect everyone … the truth is you can’t expect everyone to like you.”

  Egan changed the subject, “Have you spoken to the Smiths since Rhonda’s death?”

  “No, I haven’t had the occasion,” she responded. “I sent flowers and things to the funeral. I couldn’t get close to anyone and they don’t know. Ah, too much on my nerves. I was having such chest pains and stuff, I just couldn’t stand it. I was getting medical attention, psychologically. I got depressed, okay, I was very, very depressed.”

  Egan was intrigued again. “Recently?” he asked.

  “It was since this thing with Rhonda,” Mary Jane said. “Over the years, I’ve had medical psychological problems. I get panic attacks. I always got something, panic attacks from fretting and frustration and just trying to make a living and live, you know.”

  Stumpo brought the conversation back to another topic the troopers had hoped to cover. “Let me ask you something, Mary Jane,” he said. “How did you find out about Rhonda’s death? How did you find out about that?”

  “I’m trying to remember…” her voice trailing off a bit. “But I did find out. I think someone called me at the house.”

  “Do you remember when that was?” Egan asked.

  “I don’t know, I don’t remember,” she said, a bit flustered. This lapse in memory struck Stumpo as significant. How could anyone in the church community forget how they learned that one of their own was killed?

  She doesn’t remember because it wasn’t important who told her, Stumpo thought. Because she already knew Rhonda was dead by then.

  “I know it had to be … It had to be the day it happened,” Mary Jane continued. “But then, I had been to town that day. See, I had my hair done.”

  “That’s right, you mentioned that,” Egan responded and paused, wondering where to take the interview next. Maybe they could ask her to explain her timeline again of the day Rhonda died, to see what matched up and what didn’t. It was the same as any other case, Eg
an thought. When somebody tells the truth, they always tell it the same way. Only when they lie do cracks start forming in their story.

  “What else about Wednesday?” he asked. “You went to the hairdresser…”

  Mary Jane picked up the conversation, “Yeah, so I went up, I wander, I go on into the Jo-Ann’s Fabrics store. I’m looking around there after I get out of the hairdresser. I got home around 3:30.”

  “Did you talk to anyone when you got home?” Egan asked.

  “My brother was there when I got home. I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure he was still there,” she said, then insisting, “He was there, he had to be there.”

  “Did you call anybody on the telephone?” Egan asked, continuing the line of questioning.

  “Ah, let’s see,” she said, thinking. “Not that I know of.”

  “You know, that reminds me,” Stumpo interjected, hoping to cover some more critical terrain. “We got the phone records from the church. Remember you said you spoke to Rhonda on Monday?”

  “Yes, I did,” Mary Jane responded.

  “And what we thought was interesting was there were actually three phone calls from your house to the church,” Stumpo continued. “Do you remember making more than one phone call to the church?”

  “At the time I talked to Rhonda, no,” she responded.

  “No?” Stumpo prodded.

  Mary Jane thought for a moment. “I thought maybe, maybe I called twice, I might have called twice,” she spat out. “I asked her if they had a new directory in yet. I needed a couple addresses and she said, ‘Well let me look around the office.’ So that’s when I called back. I called back and she said she wasn’t able to find any. We chatted about a couple other things, but I don’t recall calling her three times.”

  “There’s three phone calls,” Stumpo insisted. “The first one was just for a couple seconds.…”

  Mary Jane shrugged. “It’s possible, it’s possible I called for a couple seconds,” she said.

  “The first call was a couple seconds, so you might have called to see if she was there,” Stumpo continued.