by M. S. Parker
I didn't want them to completely overlook me, since that would mean they were doing their job correctly and considering all possibilities, but I did want them to get their heads out of their asses long enough to realize that I didn't deserve to be the main focus of their attention.
I paused a moment by my car to smooth down my neat, black pencil skirt and then patted my hair to make sure nothing was out of place. I wanted to look calm and collected, but not cold. It was a good thing I'd had at least a couple years teaching under my belt. It helped me maintain that balance between professional and cordial that working with kids required. I couldn't keep myself too distant from my students, or they'd think I didn't care, but too friendly was inappropriate. Teaching had also given me practice in keeping my emotions from showing too much on my face. Especially when working with elementary students, a teacher couldn't let their personal life affect how they treated their students.
I'd just have to think of Detectives Reed and Rheingard as second graders. At least, I thought wryly, it wouldn't be that difficult with Detective Reed. He didn't appear to be the most evolved person I'd met.
I went inside and walked straight past the desk sergeant. I knew where I was going. Both detectives were already at their desks. Reed was nursing a cup of coffee while Rheingard looked busy with some paperwork. I wondered if any of it had to do with me.
“Good morning, Detectives.” I kept my voice pleasant, as if the last time I'd seen them, they hadn't been accusing me of homicide.
“Mrs. Lockwood.” Detective Rheingard looked up, raising an eyebrow. “We weren't expecting you so early.”
“Since I had to cancel yesterday, I figured I should come in early today.”
“Feeling any better?”
I turned from Rheingard to Reed and suppressed a scowl. The expression on his face clearly said that he didn't believe that I'd been sick. While that hadn't technically been true, at least in a physical sense, I hadn't been emotionally capable of talking to them last night. That counted as sick, at least in my book.
“Better enough,” I said. “Should I take a seat?” I gestured towards the chair next to Reed's desk. I knew we'd end up in an interrogation room again, but I figured it couldn't hurt to try. I was, after all, in here voluntarily.
“Why don't we go somewhere a little more private?” Rheingard suggested, pushing back from his desk.
“You should remember the way.” Reed smirked at me as he stood.
I didn't bother to respond. I'd figured out their interrogation strategy before, though I did wonder if Reed's ignorance and statements intended to provoke were intentional or just part of his obnoxious personality.
“Please have a seat, Mrs. Lockwood.” Rheingard held the door open for me to go inside.
I settled in the same chair I sat in before and folded my hands on the table in front of me. Reed and Rheingard sat down, the latter across from me.
“With your permission, Mrs. Lockwood, I'd like to record our interview.” Rheingard put a small recorder on the table between us. His eyes cut towards his partner, and then back to me. “Just so there aren't any misunderstandings later.”
“Of course,” I said amicably. “I don't have anything to hide.”
I wondered if Henley had anything to do with that, or if it had come from the DA due to the less-than-honest way the detectives had gone about getting my arrest warrant. I was sure the police department didn't want to risk something like that happening again.
Detective Rheingard pressed the button to record, waited a moment, and then spoke, “First, I want to make it clear that you're not under arrest.”
I had a feeling Reed would've liked to have added 'yet' to the end of that statement.
“I understand,” I said. “I came in voluntarily to answer any additional questions you might have.”
“And we appreciate you having come,” Rheingard said.
“Especially since you have such a busy schedule,” Reed added. “What with school, and running the vineyard, and your new live-in boyfriend.”
I wanted to shake my head in amazement. He was jumping right in there.
“I am busy,” I said calmly. “With the holidays coming up and everything, but this is more important. I want to make sure everything possible is done to find out exactly what happened to my late husband.”
“Except you know what happened, Mrs. Lockwood,” Reed said. He gave me one of those smiles that made me itch to reach across the table and slap him. “But we're going to hold off on that for a moment. We have a couple other matters to discuss before we have you go over the details of that day.”
Again, I wanted to add. Go over the details again.
I'd told it so many times that I wasn't even sure how many times I’d said the words anymore.
“You were originally supposed to come in last night after work,” Rheingard said.
“I was,” I agreed.
“Why didn't you?” he asked.
“I wasn't feeling well,” I said. “So I called to reschedule.”
“That's not entirely accurate, is it, Mrs. Lockwood?” Detective Rheingard gave me a hard look. “You weren't sick yesterday. You didn't want to come in because you'd been suspended from your job, and you were worried that you'd be too emotional to hide the truth from us.”
My fingertips turned white as I pressed them together. How had they known I'd been suspended? Then again, I couldn't say I was entirely surprised. The other teachers would've known, of course, and the office staff. Gossip could spread like wildfire, especially when it was bad.
“I wasn't feeling well,” I repeated. “And, yes, a lot of that was due to having been suspended from my job.”
“So you lost your job and that made you feel sick so you couldn't come in and answer questions about something you said was important to you?” Reed asked.
“I didn't lose my job,” I said tersely. “I was suspended pending the conclusion of this investigation.”
“Were you suspended because your employer believes that you might've had something to do with your husband's death?” Rheingard asked.
“No.” I put my hands on my lap so the detectives couldn't see me digging my nails into my palms. I had no doubt they'd think it was guilt rather than annoyance.
“Then what was it, Mrs. Lockwood?” Rheingard pressed. “If you don't have anything to hide...”
“The principal is concerned the students might be confused since news of my arrest and the charges were made public.” I kept it simple.
“Isn't it true, Mrs. Lockwood, that the real reason you were suspended is because Principal Sanders is afraid for the safety of his students? That he considers you dangerous.”
“No,” I said, nearly shouting. I took a deep breath before continuing. “I mean...” Shit. “Yes, he's worried about their safety, but not because he thinks I'd hurt them. When Aime Vargas came after me, she came into my classroom. He just doesn't want to risk anything happening to the kids.” I lifted my chin. “And neither do I.”
“So you agree that you should be kept away from your students.” Rheingard made it a statement.
“I'm not contesting the suspension,” I said. “Doing that would cause more harm than good, and I care about my kids.”
“You didn't answer my question,” Rheingard said.
“No.” I met his gaze and held it. “I don't think I need to be kept away from my students. I don't believe I'm putting them in danger. But I do believe that everything that's going on could be confusing for them.”
There was a moment of silence where Rheingard jotted something down in his notebook. I didn't see the point of writing something down when there was a recording of the exact same thing here, but I wasn't a cop. Maybe he was writing down something about my body language. Or maybe it was his lunch order. Who knew.
“Are you aware, Mrs. Lockwood, that your in-laws believe you had something to do with your husband's death?” Detective Rheingard asked.
No shit, Sherlock. I resisted
the urge to roll my eyes. I'd been the one who'd told them that the Lockwoods were coming after me.
I kept my answer brief. “Yes, I'm aware.”
“They've brought some rather interesting things to our attention,” Detective Reed said.
“I'm sure they did.” My voice was dry. I couldn't wait to hear this.
Reed leaned across the table towards me and paused a long minute before asking, “How long ago did you and your lover start conspiring to murder your husband?”
Chapter 11
Jasper.
They thought Jasper and I had planned to kill Allen.
The very idea was ludicrous.
Until I remembered that the file and the documents I'd brought to them incriminated Jasper in Allen's death. And since Jasper and I were living together...
Shit.
“Jasper and I didn't kill Allen.” I kept my voice as steady and calm as I could make it.
“Right.” Reed leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Your husband just happened to die, and a few months later, his best friend moved into your house.”
I set my jaw and lifted my chin. I wasn't going to rise to take the bait. Jasper and I had done nothing wrong.
“Let's talk about that insurance money, Mrs. Lockwood,” Rheingard spoke. “According to our sources, you claim you didn't know about the insurance until you received a call from them, is that right?”
I nodded. I wasn't even going to ask who their source was. It didn't matter.
“Allen and I had taken out small policies on each other, just enough to cover funeral expenses no matter what our finances would be like at the time of our deaths. That was the only insurance I knew of until I got a call that Allen had taken out a million dollar insurance policy on himself.”
“You had your attorney, Mr. Henley, hold the check for you?” Rheingard continued.
“Yes. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the money, so I asked Mr. Henley to hold it for me until I did.”
“But you've since decided that you wanted the money,” Reed put in. “Or rather, you wanted to give it to your lover.”
My mouth tightened and my nails dug so deeply into my palms that I knew I was going to have marks. “I decided that I was going to give the money to a charity or something like that. I wanted my former in-laws to see that I didn't care about the money.”
“But you didn't give the money to a charity. You gave it to the man you were sleeping with.”
I had a feeling Reed would've used a much less genteel term if the recorder hadn't been sitting in front of me.
“Allen left Jasper a million dollars from his trust to start a clinic, something that Allen and I both knew Jasper wanted. With Allen's family contesting the will regarding the distribution of the trust, I didn't know how long that money would be tied up. So, yes, I gave Jasper the insurance money so he could start his clinic.”
Rheingard made another one of those notes on his notepad. “Your attorney will confirm the dispensation of the insurance policy?”
“Yes. I'll make sure he knows to give you anything you need.” I glanced at Reed and saw the skeptical look the detective was giving me. “He can also let you know what's going on with the Lockwoods in regards to Allen's estate. If they haven't already told you everything.”
“Speaking of your in-laws,” Rheingard said.
I swallowed a sigh. I didn't want to talk about Allen's family, but I wasn't going to protest. I'd answer whatever questions they wanted to ask. I wouldn't give them any reason to think I was holding back.
“We understand that you spoke with your in-laws regarding a DNA sample for a paternity test.” Rheingard looked up from his notes.
“I did.” I wasn't entirely sure what this had to do with their accusations, but I was willing to go along with it.
As long as they didn't ask where I'd eventually gotten the sample. That wouldn't end well for either Jasper or myself. I was starting to think maybe I should have asked Mr. Henley to come with me.
“Why didn't you have anything in your house with your husband's DNA?” Reed asked. “Toothbrush. Hair brushes.” He paused and smirked suggestively. “Sheets.”
I ignored the not-so-subtle innuendo. “By the time the paternity suit came around, I'd already cleaned out anything of Allen's that would've had his DNA.”
“Right,” Reed said. “Because you had to make room for your new lover.”
I got the impression he liked using that word. My voice was tight. “Because I'm trying to move on with my life. Like my husband would have wanted.”
Reed sneered. “I'm sure he would've been ecstatic about you...living with his friend.”
I had to bite my tongue from snapping at him. Defending my relationship with Jasper wasn't what was needed at the moment.
“You'd gotten rid of all of Allen's things?” Rheingard asked.
“No,” I clarified. “I'd thrown away things like his toothbrush and hairbrush. His razor. Things that couldn't be donated or that I wasn't going to keep. So, no, I haven't thrown away everything that belonged to my husband. I just didn't have anything I could use for the test.”
Rheingard raised an eyebrow. “And what does Dr. Whitehall think about the fact that you still have some of your husband's things at the house?”
“Allen was Jasper's best friend.” I met his eyes and worked to keep my voice steady. “He misses my late husband as much as I do. There's no competition between them.”
Reed didn't even try to hide his skepticism. “Seems to me you'd have to be a pretty cold-hearted bit–,” he cleared his throat, “person to sleep with your husband's best friend.”
“Did you know Allen? Either of you?” I asked suddenly. “Do you know Jasper? I mean, beyond a professional capacity or rumors?”
The men exchanged glances before Rheingard answered, “No. We never met Mr. Lockwood, and our encounters with Dr. Whitehall have been brief.”
“Then I don't really think either of you are qualified to tell me what my late husband or my current lover,” I looked at Reed when I used the word, “would think about me or this situation.” I gave them both a humorless smile. “So why don't we stick to the relevant questions? That's what I'm here to answer, after all.”
A moment of silence followed my little speech, and then Detective Reed heaved out a sigh and pushed his chair back.
“I need coffee.”
He disappeared through the door, leaving me with Detective Rheingard.
“Can I get you anything to drink?”
I shook my head. “I just want to get this over with, Detective.”
He nodded. “All right. Why don't you tell me again about what happened that day?” He gestured towards the recorder. “We'll get it on tape this time.”
I doubted that had anything to do with why he was asking me to repeat the same things I'd already told him a dozen times in a dozen ways. But I did it one more time. I barely even had to think about what I was saying as I went through it all again.
By the time I finished, Detective Reed had returned with his coffee. I didn't even pause when he slumped down in his chair and glared at me, sipping at his drink.
When I finished, Rheingard did his little note-taking thing, and then looked over at Detective Reed.
I could almost hear them saying tag, you're it.
“When did you choke your husband?” Reed asked.
I stared at him, mouth hanging open. “When did I what?”
“Choke him,” Reed repeated. He straightened and leaned forward. “Or did you hit him? The medical examiner couldn't get a clear picture of what happened before you managed to get your husband's body removed.”
“What are you talking about?” I wasn't even annoyed with the question because I had no clue what he was talking about. “Allen died because his parachute didn't open.”
“Right,” Reed agreed. His eyes were gleaming. “But the medical examiner made a note of a suspicious-looking bruise on Allen's neck.”
“How could they...I mean, he was...” The words stuck in my throat. I might've been moving on and putting my life together again, but that didn't make it any easier to think about what happened that day. Especially not about how Allen had died.
“Detective.” Rheingard's voice was sharp. He looked over at his partner and then turned back to me. “The medical examiner didn't report a bruise.”
I glared at Detective Reed. It figured the asshole was lying to me again to try to get me to say I'd done something I hadn't done. He'd been trying to get me worked up over the brutality of Allen's death so I'd say something incriminating. I'd known he was a heartless bastard, but that was beyond cold.
Rheingard continued, “We do, however, have a statement from one of the men who worked at the airfield that says Mr. Lockwood had a strange-looking bruise on his neck.”
I gave him a confused look. “I don't understand.”
“Is it possible that something may have happened before you got on the plane? Something that may have caused Mr. Lockwood to pass out?”
I was thoroughly confused now. Were both detectives lying to me about the bruise? Were they trying to trick me into saying that Allen and I'd had some sort of fight before he died? Like that would've given some sort of reason to kill him? Was Rheingard giving me a different sort of lie after calling Reed out because what he did was supposed to make me think he was telling the truth?
“You and Mr. Lockwood didn't have any sort of altercation? An argument that maybe got a little out of hand?” Rheingard pressed.
“No!” I snapped. “If you must know, Allen and I had spent the night before and the morning of the accident having sex. We weren't fighting. We were fucking.”