Death Changes Everything

by Linda Crowder

  “If Valerie is telling the truth,” said Jake, “where is Trudy’s diary? The police didn’t find it in the house.”

  “Which means someone who was in the house after Valerie must have taken it. Morty, what do we know?”

  “Nobody on the suspect list has a car like that.”

  “What about Maddie?” asked Emma.

  “She had time to go inside, pick up Steven’s gun and shoot him, hide the gun and run outside,” agreed Matt.

  “See? I told you,” she said to Jake.

  “But only barely. Which means she would have had to come home hopping mad at him, ready to kill the minute opportunity presented. We have found nothing that would have set her off that morning.”

  “So we’re back to square one,” said Kristy.

  “We’re not quite at square one,” said Matt, smiling.

  “You’ve been holding out on us,” accused Jake.

  “I was looking over the reports and realized Valerie said an older woman let her in when she went to see Roger. She said the woman had been at the funeral, but she didn’t say who the woman was. I sent some pictures to her attorney and asked him if she could identify the woman.”

  “It had to be Della,” said Jake. “I just don’t know why she won’t admit that Valerie was there.”

  “Because it wasn’t Della. It was Pam.”

  “Pam’s not my definition of an older woman,” said Emma.

  “You’re not twenty-two,” answered Matt. “I agree with Jake. It didn’t make any sense that Della wouldn’t have mentioned Valerie being there. A stranger comes to your house and meets with your husband right before he suffers a fatal heart attack? You’re gonna remember that. If your daughter is there, she’s like the wallpaper. You just don’t think about her.”

  “Pam’s husband kicked us out before we could ask about Roger’s death,” said Jake.

  “The more questions we ask, the more the answers lead to Pam. She gave her son instructions to break into her parents’ home. She approves the fund with questionable authority, then draws more than a million dollars from it over the next fifteen years. She tells Lewiston she’ll make sure Steven doesn’t get a dime of the worker’s fund and the next day, Steven’s dead. She’s on the scene again when Roger Hill dies a week later.”

  “Roger wasn’t murdered,” Kristy pointed out.

  “She didn’t have to kill him. What if she just refused give him his medication when he rang for it?”

  “Most people who have a heart attack don’t die from it. If Roger had survived, he’d have disowned her.”

  “How would he know? She could tell him she just didn’t hear the bell. In any case, all roads lead to Pam.” He checked his watch. “Which is why Captain Danning asked the judge to issue a warrant for her arrest. She should be in custody by now.”

  “You have been holding out on us!” said Jake, slapping Matt on the back.

  “Gotta make myself useful or I’ll be out of a job. I even have the Captain’s permission to question Pam myself. There’s room in the observation room, if any of you would like to sit in on it.”

  Emma declined, opting to stay home in case Grace needed anything. Kristy offered to stay with Emma, so the three men piled into Jake’s truck and headed back into town.

  ***

  Pam Young was sitting in an interview room, flanked by her husband on one side and her attorney on the other. She had not yet been processed into the jail, so she was still dressed in the same conservative slacks and sweater she’d worn when Jake and Brugnick had come to see her earlier in the day.

  Jake stood with Captain Danning in the adjoining observation room. The one-way mirror fooled no one but Pam paid it no attention. She sat stone-faced, staring straight ahead of her, hands in her lap. Her husband wore an expression between concern and confusion. Her attorney, a man Jake knew more by reputation than experience, wore a look of manufactured boredom.

  Matt stopped at his office to pull a few file folders from the top of his desk. Glancing at the contents, he followed Brugnick into the interview room. Circling the table, he took a seat directly across from Pam. “Mrs. Young, do you know why you’ve been arrested?”

  Pam’s attorney answered for her. “For a ridiculous charge involving a fund my client established to benefit the workers of Hill Energy.”

  “We’ll start there. Mrs. Young, you don’t deny you signed off on the establishment of this fund?”

  “It was within her authority to do so,” responded the attorney.

  “And in the fifteen years the fund has been active, you have been receiving monthly distributions from that fund, have you not?”

  “She has received a standard management fee.”

  “Totaling,” Matt opened one of the folders, “just under two million dollars, is that correct?”

  Pam’s husband’s eyes grew large and he looked sharply at his wife, but said nothing. “Over fifteen years, Detective,” said Pam’s attorney, his voice maintaining its studiously bored tone, “even one-half of one percent of a fund as significant as this one begins to sound impressive.”

  “I see. Mr. Young, may I ask you how much money you earned last year?”

  Pam’s attorney interrupted, “I fail to see the relevance.”

  “We’re not in a court of law, counselor. Mr. Young? You’re a teacher, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. At least I was. I retired at the end of last year.”

  “In June, you mean?”

  “Yes, sorry. School year.”

  “In your years as a teacher, how many times did your annual income approach $125,000?”

  “Again, what is the point? Yes, my client earned substantially more money than her husband. That’s not a crime, Detective.”

  “It’s significantly more money than they would have if Mrs. Young had not signed off on this fund.”

  “I applaud your math skills, Detective, but I fail to see the relevance. My client comes from a wealthy family. There are other assets she could have tapped into if needed.”

  “Would you care to elaborate on those assets, sir?”

  “I could have her accountant put something together for you.”

  Matt opened another folder. “You don’t have an accountant, do you, Mrs. Young? And you don’t have other assets, at least you didn’t before your father died. You’ve been selling off those assets for years, haven’t you, Mrs. Young? You even stooped to having your son borrow items from your parents while they were out of the country. Only you weren’t going to be able to return them, were you?”

  “That’s ridiculous, Pam, tell him. There’s the house at the lake.”

  “Leased.”

  “Our investment portfolio.”

  “Sold.”

  “Our retirement account? Our savings?”

  “Minimal. Without the income from the fund, you’d be in serious trouble.” Matt slid a printed spreadsheet across the table and Pam’s husband grabbed it.

  “I don’t understand,” he said, looking up from the page. “Pam, honey, what is this?”

  “You don’t have to answer, Pam,” interrupted Pam’s attorney. When he saw the tears streaming down his client’s face, he turned to Matt. “Detective, give us a moment, please?”

  Before Matt could move, Pam started to speak, her voice gaining strength as she talked. “I wanted to tell you, but there never seemed to be a good time.”

  “Tell me what, Pam? What is it?”

  “I lost it.”

  “Lost what?”

  “Everything. All we’d worked for. All we’d talked about all these years. I lost it.”

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean you lost it?”

  “I…I have a problem. I gamble. I tried to stop, I really did, only I couldn’t. I’d stop for a while and then I’d go back. I’d win a little and then I couldn’t stop. All I wanted was to win again.”

  “The jewelry you had Ryan ‘borrow’ from your mother’s safe?” asked Matt.

  “I owed s
omeone a lot of money. I had to pay and I didn’t have any way to do it. Mother…had always helped me. Whenever it got really bad. I knew she’d be hurt, but she wouldn’t say anything and I…I just had to have the money.”

  “When Bruce Lewiston told you he thought Steven might be close to finding out about the fund?”

  “He would have cut me off. I couldn’t let that happen. We couldn’t live without that money. We’d be ruined.”

  “So you went to see him.”

  “Pam, I have to stop you,” her attorney broke in. “Don’t say another word.”

  “I want to. I can’t go on like this.”

  “When did you go see Steven?”

  “That morning.”

  “What time?”

  “I’m not sure. I knew Maddie had some old biddy thing she did on Saturdays. I went down the alley after I saw her leave, I knocked on the back door.”

  “Steven let you in?”

  “Yes. I tried to talk to him. I tried to reason with him about what a good thing the fund is for Hill Energy, but he didn’t care. He told me…he told me he was going to call the police.”

  “What did you do when he said that?”

  “I shot him.”

  “You took a gun with you?”

  “Pam, don’t answer.”

  She ignored her attorney’s warning. “Yes. Yes, I did. I have a gun I keep in a safe in my closet. For protection. I don’t remember putting it in my pocket but when I reached in, it was there. I pulled it out and he just laughed at me.”

  She looked up, her face streaked with mascara. “It just went off.”

  “What did you do with the gun?”

  “I…I don’t remember.”

  Matt shoved his chair back and stood, his hands on the table. “I’ll give you that minute now, counselor.”

  He signaled to Captain Danning, who flipped a switch in the observation room, cutting of the sound and frosting the glass. Matt joined them a moment later. “What in the heck is she doing?” he said, dropping into a chair.

  “She had me going until she got to the gun,” said Jake.

  “She got the timeline wrong too. She says she went in right after Maddie left and shot Steven. Maddie was gone for three hours and Steven wasn’t dead for even an hour before she found him. Besides, we know Valerie was there about half an hour before Maddie came home and argued with Steven.”

  “And it’s tough to argue with a dead man. Why lie about things so easily disproved?”

  “Crazy.”

  “Like a fox, maybe,” said Brugnick and all eyes turned to him. “If you’re going to murder someone and you know the police will find a flaming hot motive, what better way to throw them off the track than to confess to the murder only mess up the details so they think you’re covering for someone? Then we’d go flying off on a red herring and she gets away with it.”

  “C’mon, Morty. You have got to stop reading those books.”

  “In the real world, Detective Brugnick, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck,” quoted Captain Danning. “It’s a duck.”

  “Okay, why do you guys think she’s lying?”

  “I think she’s covering up for someone.”

  “Think they’ve had enough time?” asked Jake.

  “They’ll knock,” explained Matt. “Say, Jake, what would you be saying to Pam right now if you were her lawyer?”

  “I’d be telling her the police aren’t stupid. They know her story doesn’t match the facts. I’d also tell her it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who she’s covering up for.”

  “Who is she covering up for?” asked Brugnick.

  “Husband, maybe?” A knock on the mirror drew their attention and Danning reached over and flipped the switch again. “Go find out, Matt.”

  Matt returned to the interview room and sat down across from Pam again. “Want to try the truth this time?”

  “Detective, my client is willing to tell you the truth, but she wants a deal.”

  “No deals.”

  “Then no truth.”

  Matt got up and walked to a wall phone. Picking it up, he dialed the extension for the interview room. Danning answered. “Yeah, Morty,” said Matt, “send the matron in to pick up Mrs. Young. We’re through here.”

  “What? He can’t do that!” She turned to her attorney. “You said he’d drop the charges.”

  “He’s just grandstanding, Pam. Detective, my client is offering to tell you the truth. Stop playing games.”

  “I don’t play games,” said Matt. There was a knock on the door and a policewoman entered. She stood almost six feet tall and looked like she could bench press Pam if she gave her any trouble.

  “Come with me,” she said, taking Pam’s arm and pulling her up out of her chair.

  “No! No, I can’t! I can’t go to jail.” She yanked her arm free and reeled on her attorney. “You said this would never happen. You said I’d get community service!”

  She shoved her husband out of his chair. “This was all your idea!”

  “Pam!” Matt’s voice grabbed Pam’s attention. “Truth. Now. No deals.”

  Pam stood silently, staring at Matt. She looked at her husband, who was still sitting on the floor looking up at her. She started to shake. “What do I do?” she wailed, falling into her chair.

  Her husband pulled himself to his feet and sat beside her, his arm around her. Matt nodded at the policewoman, who quietly left the room. Pam’s husband started to speak, his voice so low it was hard for the men in the observation room to hear him.

  “It was my idea, only I wanted to take the blame. Pam wouldn’t let me. She said it wouldn’t work if it were me, but she thought you might believe her.”

  “Was any part of what your wife said true?”

  “The money is gone, that much is true, only it isn’t my wife’s gambling that’s the problem.” Pam buried her face in her husband’s shoulders and started to sob. “We thought we were doing the right thing, you know? Helping him out when he’d get over his head. When he told us his girlfriend was pregnant, we got them an apartment and told everybody they were getting married. We hoped it would straighten him out.”

  “But it didn’t.”

  “No. The more we did for him, the worse it got. He came over one night, bleeding and with his clothes all torn. Told us he owed his bookie a lot of money, but we didn’t have anything left to give him. He said they threatened to kill him, so Pam sent him over to get the jewelry. We didn’t know what to do and we didn’t have any time to think. Next thing we knew, we heard Steven was killed.”

  “You thought Ryan shot him?”

  Pam wailed and her husband put a hand on her face, rocking her back and forth gently. “We didn’t know. He said he didn’t have anything to do with it, but Pam,” he took a deep breath, “saw him there.”

  “She saw your son at Steven Hill’s house the morning he was killed?”

  Pam sat up and drew a ragged breath. “I waited until I was sure Maddie was gone and then I went over there, through the alley, like I told you.”

  “And Steven let you in?”

  “No, the kitchen door wasn’t locked. We don’t lock ours either. I had just walked in the door when the doorbell rang. I panicked. I don’t know why. I ducked behind the counter and waited. Steven let that girl in, the same one who came to his funeral afterward. He took her back into his office. I could hear them arguing, then he shouting at her to get out. Then I heard her run out and the screen door slammed.”

  “Then you went to see Steven?”

  “I got up, but I heard a car pull into the driveway. I thought it was Maddie, but I looked out the kitchen window and it was Ryan.”

  “Why would Ryan go to see your brother?”

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “You talked to him?”

  “Not then. Later. After…I found out about Steven.”

  “So you weren’t in the house while your son was there?”

&n
bsp; “No. I slipped out the back door and ran all the way home.”

  “Then you don’t know that Ryan killed Steven.”

  “He had to. I heard a shot as I was running away.”

  Matt got up to leave. “Stay here.”

  He walked back to the observation room. Captain Danning had again activated the privacy switch. “Is it me,” said Matt, “or is everybody crazy?”

  “Detective Brugnick, take a couple of uniforms and go pick up Ryan Young. If his girlfriend’s home, bring her in, too. If that was him, that would have been her the old woman saw driving.”

  “Will do, Captain,” said Brugnick and the young detective left the room.

  Watching him go, Matt wondered if he’d ever had that much energy. “What do you think? Is she telling the truth?”

  “She seems to be,” said Jake. “There were no hesitations in her story this time and no obvious lies, except for only hearing one shot. Could be she only heard the wild shot, then Ryan wrestled the gun away and shot Steven after she was out of hearing. She’s adjusted her arrival to later in the morning and now the timeline fits. I don’t know how she would know the timeline except to have experienced it.”

  “Why would Steven take a pot shot at Ryan?”

  “Because he figured out Ryan was behind the breakin and wanted to scare him? Or maybe he confronted Ryan and the kid threatened him?”

  “And why would he take Trudy’s diary?”

  Jake had been staring up at the ceiling while the two policemen spoke. Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind. “I think I know what happened. I just don’t know how we’re going to prove it.”

  ***

  Jake outlined his theory and when he finished, they agreed that it was the only solution that made all the pieces fit together. Since there wasn’t any proof, the only way they were going to get the charges to stick was to get someone to talk. As Detective Brugnick was so fond of suggesting, they would bring them all in and see who cracked.

  There was a knock on the door and Brugnick poked his head in. “Ryan Young’s in two, Captain. His girlfriend was at work. You want I should send a car to pick her up?”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary, Morty,” said Danning. “Bring Young in here.”

  “The observation room?”