by Vella Day
“People like her?”
“Poor, low income job. You know. She keeps to herself.”
“Thanks.”
Once outside, Kelly tugged her lapels closer to her chest. Derek, for one, loved the cool breeze. It was a nice relief from sticky Tampa.
“I didn’t like him much,” Kelly said.
“Hmm. Seemed like an upstanding guy to me.”
“You cops always stick together.”
He figured it best to let the conversation drop.
When they reached the rental car, Derek held open the door for Kelly.
“Now where to?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt.
“I’d like to hear what Courtney Wolfendon has to say about the night in question.”
“Do people really remember what happened twelve years ago?”
“If it’s traumatic or memorable enough, they might.”
18
Like I told you over the phone, the murder happened a long time ago,” Courtney Wolfendon said, as she ushered them in.
Trying not to look too obvious, Derek checked out her house. Nice and upscale. Hell, the atrium ceiling almost made him feel small. She’d done well for herself, which wasn’t too surprising, considering she was the ex-Mayor’s daughter.
Her gaze locked onto the hard wood floor as she led them over to the plush leather sofa. Mrs. Wolfendon sat opposite them on the edge of a chair and wove her fingers together. Lips pinched, she appeared to debate whether or not to spill the beans.
Derek threw out a prompt. “You told the police that Justin Bladen was at the party the night of the Novaro murder. Were you with him the whole night, or could he have snuck out and then returned without your knowledge?” Like he had, perhaps, the night of Rayne’s murder.
She looked off to the side, inhaled, and held her breath. Worry shot through Derek. Maybe she’d forgotten the details. Twelve years was a long time.
She wagged a finger and opened her mouth. Before she got out a word, the front door flew open and a flabby man, with curly red hair barged in.
“Courtney, what’s going on?” The guy looked royally pissed as he marched straight for her.
Mrs. Wolfendon’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the chair’s seat cushion. “This man is a police detective. From Florida. They’ve come about Justin.”
Just Justin? No full name? He must be a common topic of conversation in this household.
The newcomer stepped in front of her and faced Derek. From the way his eyes shifted from side to side, the guy had something to hide. “You talking about that prick, Justin Bladen?”
Derek stood, straightened his shoulders and looked down at the pudgy man. He put on his most sincere face. “Yes, sir.”
“Justin Bladen was a no good, sleazy asshole. That’s all you need to know.”
Mrs. Wolfendon tugged on the man’s sleeve. “Please George, don’t. We were just kids back then.”
He spun around and loomed over her. “If I ever see him near you, I’ll kill him, I swear.” He stomped off into a back room. Mrs. Wolfendon’s face reddened as her shoulders sagged. There didn’t seem to be much love in that marriage.
Derek looked at Kelly, and warmth spread through him. They’d always treated each other with respect. Even after she’d dumped him she’d been nice about leaving.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Wolfendon said, obviously shaken. “Justin and I had a thing for each other in high school.” She crooked her fingers around the words. “I know we came from the opposite sides of the tracks, so to speak, but there was something about Justin that appealed to me.”
“Like what?” Kelly asked in a soft, reassuring tone.
“Well, for one, he was smart and driven. He wanted to get out of this go-nowhere town and make something of himself.” Her gaze turned almost dreamy, like she was reliving her high school crush.
Kelly leaned forward. “So what happened between you two?”
Smart girl. Women talk was not his forte. Derek sat back, letting the two bond.
Mrs. Wolfendon looked behind her, her brows pinched in fear. “It was our high school graduation party. His dad had killed himself a few days before, and all I wanted to do was console Justin, but he refused any kind of sympathy. The next day, when the police came around asking questions about the murder, Justin kind of freaked and moved out of his house. He told me he couldn’t handle his mom, but if you ask me, I think he was just in a funk because of his dad’s death. The suicide really tore him up. My father didn’t like Justin, but we had a shed in the back where my father kept his tools. I told Justin he could hole up there for a few days.”
More information than Derek had hoped for.
“How long did he stay with you?” Kelly continued.
She bit down on her lip. “Maybe a week. Once his name was cleared, he left town.”
“Did he ever see his mom again?”
“No.”
Derek schooled his features. So Justin and Mrs. Wolfendon had quite a history. “Did your folks know he was staying on their property?” From the way Mariani described her dad, he wouldn’t have put up with the likes of Justin.
“Oh, no. Daddy was the Mayor at the time and very strict. Maybe that’s why I was attracted to Justin in the first place.” She glanced over at Kelly. “You know, the bad boy thing.”
Kelly glanced at Derek with a twinkle in her eye. “I sure do.”
Derek didn’t need the conversation to wander. He nodded toward the room where her husband had disappeared. “Your husband certainly doesn’t like Justin.”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You’re right. He wanted to date me our senior year, but I wanted Justin.” Her voice came out a mere whisper. “George knew that. I only agreed to go out with him after Justin left for good.”
Kelly tilted her head to the side and let out an audible breath. “I understand. When Justin left, you felt alone and vulnerable. George stepped up and was there for you.”
She barely smiled. “I guess so.”
“Did Justin ever contact you again?” Derek asked, his fists clenched.
Her eyes widened. “No. It was like he disappeared from the face of the earth.”
Eighteen-year old boys didn’t leave their gym bags if they planned to split, nor did they throw their jackets away in houses where they no longer lived. If DNA testing had been available twenty years ago, Justin might never have been arrested.
As much as he wanted Justin Bladen to be guilty, it didn’t look like the guy had committed the Novaro murder. The pieces fit too nicely—as if the poor son of a bitch had been framed—or else Justin wanted it to look that way.
“Can you give me a list of some other people who were at the party that night?” Derek asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, boy. You’re asking me to think back really far.”
“Try, please.”
“Well, William McKee was there. He’s my cousin. Then there was Megan Hornstrom, my best friend and a ton of others.” Her eyes squinted nearly shut. “Why?”
He jotted their names in his pad. “We’d like to corroborate your story.”
She sat up straighter. “It isn’t a story. I was with Justin most of the night. If you think he had time to leave, kill that man, and then come back, you’re wrong. I’d have known if he’d left.”
“I hope so,” Derek said. And he meant it. “I wasn’t implying you were lying. Sometimes other people notice things you might have missed. It’s possible you were talking to someone and lost track of time.”
She chewed her thumbnail—what there was left of it. “I guess it’s possible. I didn’t want my father to find out we were dating, so we never talked in public for long. We tried to keep our relationship a secret. Parties were the only time we really saw each other.”
It was time for a different tack. “Besides driven and smart, what kind of boy was Justin?” Derek kept his tone non-threatening.
“Why all the interest in Justin? Has he done something?” She grabbed the lap
els of her jacket and tugged them tight across her chest. Clearly, it was a nervous habit. What was she afraid of? Her husband or Derek’s questions?
“Justin was engaged to my sister. Now she’s dead.”
Mrs. Wolfendon clasped a hand over her mouth, and then dropped her hand to her lap. “And you think Justin killed her?”
“I don’t know what to think, but he fled Tampa a few days ago. I thought he might have come here.”
“Poor Justin. No, he wouldn’t come back home. He and his mom never got along, and I heard he knew I had married George.”
“Maybe he wanted to see his mom again to make things right after all these years.”
Her gaze raced around the room. “I don’t think so. As I said, they hated each other. Not that I blame him. His mom was strange.” She gulped down a breath. “Have you spoken with her yet?”
“No.”
“Oh, boy. Are you in for a treat. She’s distant and angry, and I have to admit, downright odd. I haven’t had much contact with her these last few years, thank goodness. I doubt she has changed though.”
Derek leaned forward and steepled his fingers, interested in her assessment of Justin’s mom. “Odd how?”
Mrs. Wolfendon checked behind her. The husband remained out of sight. “Justin told me she belonged to some white supremacist group.”
Derek felt the blood drain from his face. He inhaled to keep his blood pressure from falling further. “Go on.”
She gripped her hands on her lap. “Justin tried not to hate the Navajos because he played ball with some of them, but both his parents taught him the Indians were out to get you. His folks became obsessed with purifying the race. It was no wonder Justin learned to hate.”
Before Derek had a chance to absorb the information, the door behind her slammed open, and her husband stomped back into the room. “You want to know about Bladen? Well, I’ll tell you. He was a bigot, just like his old lady—a real despicable kid.” He turned to his wife. “I can’t believe you fell for him.”
So the man had been eavesdropping. He hoped Mrs. Wolfendon wouldn’t feel the brunt of her husband’s wrath after they left. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it.
Rayne mentioned she’d never told Justin she was half-Seminole. Deep inside, maybe she suspected his bigotry. When she and Justin visited Dad, perhaps finding out she’d misled him had set him off. Maybe he had killed her. That though made his stomach sicken.
Derek forced down his temper and looked up at the husband. “Have you spotted Justin around town?”
George’s eyes narrowed. “No, but if I ever do see him, the prick’ll be sorry.”
Derek grabbed Kelly’s hand and stood. “If you hear from him, call me.” He placed his card on the coffee table. “You’ve been very helpful, Mrs. Wolfendon. Thank you. We’ll see ourselves out.”
Kelly said nothing until they piled into the car. “I’m sorry.”
He closed the driver’s side door and started the engine. “About what?”
“Knowing that the man Rayne might have married hated your race. She bit her lower lip. “Do you think Justin could have killed her?”
Derek backed out of the drive, thinking about her question. “I don’t know. I’m sure some shrink would say it wasn’t Justin’s fault if he had committed a hate crime. Hell, what do I know? My dad preached everyone was responsible for his own actions. Background plays a role, sure, but we make our own destiny, and I have to agree.”
“I guess our next step is to meet this infamous mother?”
“If we can find her.” Like mother, like son?
“She has no way of knowing we’re even in town, so it’s not like she’d run.”
“We can only hope.” He handed her the paper. “See if you can make any sense of these directions.”
Kelly studied the hand-drawn map and then looked out the window as they headed down the empty two-lane road out of town. “I hope your appearance doesn’t scare Mrs. Bladen,” she said under her breath.
Huh? Kelly never seemed to be bothered by his size before. Or was it his coloring she thought might upset Justin’s mom? “You act as if I should get skin whitening cream or something. Kelly, I’m not afraid of prejudiced people. I’ve dealt with them my whole life.”
She stared down at the paper. Dammit. He hadn’t meant to upset her. Good going, Benally.
Kelly broke the silence only to give Derek directions. She understood his anger. Finding out someone could hate you for your race was enough to upset anyone. The strain around his eyes and the way his lips pressed together told her he was fighting for control, but he didn’t have to be sharp with her.
“This is the place,” he said.
Derek pulled up in front of a run down trailer in the middle of nowhere. She double-checked the address. “I can’t believe Justin was brought up in such poverty. The home sure could use some new siding, or whatever they do to trailers to fix them up.” No landscaping of any kind, other than dirt, covered the ground between the trailer and the street.
“Rayne never mentioned Justin grew up poor.”
“Maybe he never told her.”
“I’m learning there was a lot she didn’t know about him.” He slapped the wheel. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
He slid out of the car, and Kelly followed him to the front door. He rapped on the screen that looked ready to come off its hinges. Kelly drew her jacket tighter around her chest not anticipating Utah would be this cool in October.
Derek tried again, but got the same response. “I guess she’s not home.”
“Now what?” Kelly glanced at him. He squared his shoulders and unwanted and unexpected lust shot straight to her groin. She cast her gaze downward and turned toward the car.
He reached out and gently stopped her. Startled, she turned and looked up at him. He nodded to the neighbor’s trailer. “Maybe we can find out what we need to know another way.”
She glanced in the direction he’d motioned. A similar sized trailer sat a hundred feet down the road. The place looked worn, but at least it had a lawn and a few shrubs.
As they drew closer to the neighbor’s place, an elderly woman peeked her head out the door. “You lookin’ for Lilly?” She pulled the shawl over her shoulders.
“Yes,” Derek said.
“Well, you won’t find her. She’s been gone for a bit.”
“Let me speak with her,” Kelly said so only Derek could hear. “I think you might scare her.” Back in high school Derek received a lot of measured, dark looks.
Kelly stepped a little closer to the neighbor’s trailer. “Hi, I’m Kelly Rutland. We’re friends of Mrs. Bladen’s son. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“Lilly don’t got no son.” She seemed to shrink back as her gaze zeroed in on Derek.
The woman looked too thin, as if she hadn’t have enough to eat or else was ill. Her sallow skin coloring gave a good case for the latter.
Derek placed a hand on Kelly’s lower back and the sense of familiarity overwhelmed her. She took a cool, deep breath to steady her nerves. Why did his mere touch send her into a tizzy? It’s not as if she’d never been with a man. She’d been married for two years for God’s sake.
“Your neighbor’s last name is Bladen, right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How long have you lived here?” Derek asked, walking slowly toward her with Kelly by his side. The woman didn’t budge. If anything, her shoulders straightened.
“Six, seven years maybe. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
“Can you tell us a little something about Lilly?” Kelly asked.
“Why?”
She could tell the woman was nearing the end of her patience. “Justin spoke so much about his mom, we wanted to meet her. We’re passing through and thought we’d say, hi.”
“Then you got the wrong woman. Lilly isn’t the kind people want to meet.”
“Really?”
“I’m losing heat her
e.” The woman pulled the door closer to her. “You ever been in jail, mister?”
Kelly swallowed a smile at her question.
“Nope,” Derek answered.
She ran her gaze up and down him a few times. “You don’t have any weapons on you, do you?”
Derek patted down his chest. “No, ma’am.”
“All right. Come in. Can’t afford to heat the outside.”
Kelly let out a long held breath. Despite the brisk air, her underarms had started to sweat. Playing detective took more nerve than she’d anticipated. Lying was not her game, but if Justin had killed Stefanie, she owed it to her sister to find out as much as possible about the man. And the best way to learn about someone was to know his mother.
The older woman led them to a cramped space Kelly guessed acted as the living room.
“Excuse the mess,” the woman said.
That was an understatement. A large sofa and two chairs surrounding a coffee table took up half the narrow trailer. Pictures, books, piled newspapers, and assorted junk made her place look like a yard sale gone bad. And it smelled like the trash needed to be taken out.
“What do you want to know about Lilly?” the woman said as she plopped down on one of the worn chairs. “Sit, please.”
They did as she directed. “For starters, how long has she been gone?” Kelly asked, half wondering if Derek intended for her to do the entire interview.
She shrugged. “I’m not her keeper. We don’t talk much, but if I had to guess, I’d say a few months.”
That must have taken some cash. “Do you know where she went?”
“Nope, but she’s always disappearing. No wonder the front of her place is nothing but a pile of dirt. I got to say the inside is neat as a pin. Go figure.”
The neighbor would do well to follow in Mrs. Bladen’s footsteps. “I didn’t catch your name,” Derek said.
“Madeline Cohen.”
Derek stuck out his hand and introduced himself. The handshake was brief.