Faye Kellerman_Decker & Lazarus 03 Read online

  “When can I see her?” Sue Beth interrupted. Her voice was husky, strong.

  “In a moment,” Marge said. “After we’ve asked you a couple of questions.”

  “Here?” Sue Beth asked.

  “Would you prefer to sit in the car?” Marge asked.

  “Can’t this be done another time?” Sue Beth protested.

  Decker shook his head, then said, “I’ll go check on Katie. Make sure everything is in order.” He patted Sue Beth on the back. “This shouldn’t take too long.”

  After Decker left, Marge said, “Again, I’m very sorry, Mrs. Litton. You’ve suffered a terrible tragedy.”

  Sue Beth said nothing, and Marge assayed the situation. Everyone had to be approached differently. Many grieving women reached out at a time like this. But this one was retreating, and Marge had to figure out how to reel her in. First, Marge tried empathy, how unreal this must feel. Then she expressed sympathy again, how sorry she was for the loss. But Sue Beth remained stoic and silent.

  Then let’s get down to business, Marge thought.

  “I’m going to ask you some questions, Mrs. Litton,” she said. “Some of the questions might seem odd, some personal, some like I’m trying to insinuate something. Believe me, I’m not. I’m just trying to get a total picture so we can solve this as quickly as possible.”

  “Go ahead,” Sue Beth said. “Quicker you ask, the quicker I can get Katie and go home…or what’s left of it…. Oh God, this is a real nightmare.”

  Marge agreed with her. Slipping out her notebook, she asked Sue Beth to go over the trip to Fall Springs. The woman spoke in a monotone as she recounted the past week. Four days ago, she, her husband, B.B., and their kids left for the Annual Western Beekeepers Association Convention at about eleven in the morning. Luke wasn’t home when they left, but Carly and Linda were, and she said good-bye to them and everything seemed normal.

  “Where were your parents?” Marge asked.

  “Pappy and Granny were giving Carly and Linda last-minute instructions on how to take care of Earl. They were going to leave Earl at home for the first time in ages—Luke volunteered to watch after him. But at the last minute, they must have changed their minds and brought Earl along.”

  “Why do you think they changed their minds?” Marge asked.

  “Most likely, Earl put up a fuss. He don’t like being left out of things.” She paused. “Did anyone explain about Earl to you?”

  Marge said yes, someone did. She asked Sue Beth what time did she see her parents at the convention.

  “They were there when we arrived,” Sue Beth said.

  “But you said you left before them,” Marge said.

  “Oh, I forgot. We all stopped off at a restaurant to eat. Nice one in La Mesa called Montequilla’s. Sort of a family tradition when we go down to Fall Springs.”

  Marge said, “So your parents and Earl were at Fall Springs when you arrived.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “You’re sure about that?”

  Sue Beth paused a moment. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Marge didn’t know if the pause came from Sue Beth remembering something differently or an honest attempt to make sure she’d answered the question truthfully. Marge wrote down the reply and put in the word “pause” in the margin of her notes.

  “What time did you arrive at Fall Springs?”

  “’Round two, two-thirty.”

  “How long does it take to get to there from your place?”

  “’Bout two hours.”

  “Okay,” Marge said. “And everything was normal when you left?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your parents seemed…just fine?”

  Sue Beth frowned. “’Course, they were fine. What are you trying to say?”

  “Just trying to get a total picture of everything, Sue Beth.”

  Sue Beth still looked unhappy, but she didn’t say anything.

  Marge asked, “Your parents get along with Luke?”

  “They worshiped him,” Sue Beth said. “That man was the salt of the earth….” Her lower lip began to tremble, and tears spilled onto her cheeks.

  Marge pulled a clean tissue from her pants pocket and gave it to her. “I’m so sorry, Sue Beth.”

  She wiped her face, then nodded for Marge to continue. Casually, Marge asked, “Your parents get along well with Luke’s wife?”

  “Huh?”

  “Your parents like Linda?” Marge repeated.

  Sue Beth looked up, her features hardened. “As a matter of fact, they didn’t. None of us did…’cept…well, Linda was nice to Earl. I’ll say that much for her.”

  “So your parents didn’t like Linda.”

  “So what?” Sue Beth countered. “Lots of parents don’t like their daughters-in-law.”

  Marge agreed with her. Then, she asked her about her sister, Carla. How did her parents relate to her? Sue Beth seemed pained.

  “They thought Linda was a bad influence on her. She was, you know.”

  “What do you mean by bad influence?”

  Sue Beth covered her mouth with her hands. “My sister was only fourteen when Luke married Linda. She was very—what’s the word, impressed-like….”

  “Impressionable?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” Sue Beth went on to explain. Baby sister Carla was never a looker, very shy, and the boys didn’t treat her too nice. Then Linda came along and showed Carla ways to attract the boys’ attention.

  Sue Beth shook her head. “’Course, it made my ma mad. Carla acting so common. And Linda. It especially weren’t respectable for a married woman to act like.”

  “Was Linda playing around, Mrs. Litton?” Marge asked.

  Sue Beth reddened. “Well, she said she wasn’t, but my ma thought otherwise, I guess.”

  “And what did you think?”

  “What did I think?” Sue Beth repeated. “Keep my nose out of it, that’s what I thought.”

  Marge paused a moment. Linda and Carly. The “bad” girls. Getting Granny’s dander up. Together in fun, together in death. She wondered if Sue Beth knew exactly where Rolland Mason fit in. At the mention of his name, Sue Beth stiffened. But Marge pressed her on it.

  “What can you tell me about him?” she said.

  “He was just a fellah that Carla knew.”

  Just a fellah? Marge said, “Were he and your sister a steady twosome?”

  Sue Beth shook her head, explaining that Carla didn’t have any steady fellahs, although she had lots of guys who liked her. Then Marge asked if Rolland had ever shown any interest in Linda.

  Sue Beth stiffened again. “Lots of men showed interest in Linda.”

  “Rolland in specific?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What did Carla think about that?”

  “Like I said, Carla didn’t have a special fellah. I don’t think she cared who Rolland paid attention to. I barely knew Rolland myself.”

  “Yet you easily identified Rolland at the morgue.”

  Sue Beth blushed. After a pause, she admitted that maybe he’d been to the house once or twice. When Marge asked for what reason, Sue Beth slammed her hand down on the hood of Marge’s Honda.

  “Just what are you trying to say, Miss Detective!”

  Marge didn’t answer. Sue Beth began to cry.

  “I’m sorry,” she wept. “I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Marge said. “You’re doing fine, Sue Beth. Great, under the circumstances. I know this is very hard for you.”

  Sue Beth sobbed. Marge put her notebook away and slipped her arm around her.

  “I want to solve this thing. Give you and your parents some peace of mind. But I need help. I need to know all about Rolland Mason as well as your kinfolk. They were all murdered together.”

  Sue Beth continued to cry, but softer than before.

  Marge said, “Think you can help me out?”

  “It’s just so hard!”

  “I know it is.” Marge got her
another tissue. “You tell me when you’re ready to talk again.”

  After a beat, Sue Beth said, “I’m ready now, I guess.”

  Marge took out her notebook. “We were talking about Rolland Mason.”

  “Yes?”

  “Did he and Linda seem close?”

  Sue Beth sighed. “Well, ’bout a month ago, Rolland started coming to the house…to see Linda, I think. Linda…she wouldn’t do nothing with him at the house, wouldn’t touch him, even talk to him while others were around. But sometimes, when they thought no one was looking, they’d be whispering, planning to meet each other. I tried not to listen, but couple times I couldn’t help it.

  “I’d get so angry. My blood would just boil. I’d be angry at Linda, angry at my brother Luke, for not doing nothing ’bout his wife. But you can’t go sticking your nose where it don’t belong, so I tried to act normal around her and Luke.”

  “Carla ever catch them whispering together?”

  “Yeah, she knew ’bout it, too.”

  “She ever say anything about it to you?”

  “Not really,” Sue Beth said. But her voice was very hesitant. This time, Marge prodded her for more.

  Sue Beth said, “Well, it’s just that…I don’t think Carly liked the fact that Linda was seeing Rolland. Maybe she felt bad for Luke, though she never said nothing before about it. I think Carla was a little jealous, plain and simple. Linda was twelve years older than her, but she had a way with the boys. And she didn’t have to act as…how should I put this…act as…as wild as my sister did to get ’em.”

  Sue Beth shook her head.

  “Things were sometimes bad, Miss Detective. Bad ’cause Linda was playing so close to home.”

  “Byron Howard?”

  “I think that was the start of it.”

  Marge wondered about the beekeeper, if he figured into all this. She asked Sue Beth how Linda and Byron got started. Sue Beth shrugged and claimed ignorance. But she did say that after the affair, Byron Howard kept to himself. Never came over anymore unless it was absolutely necessary for him to talk to Pappy, B.B., or Luke.

  “What about Linda after the affair?” Marge said. “She didn’t seem to keep to herself.”

  “Right about that,” Sue Beth said. “Her thing with Byron didn’t change her wild ways one bit. She still acted up, going to Hell’s Heaven, doing Lord knows what over there.”

  “I spoke to the owner of Hell’s Heaven,” Marge said.

  “You spoke to Chip?”

  Marge nodded. “He said Linda just used to drink there but didn’t have a lot to do with the guys. Though quite a few seemed to be interested in her. What do you think about that?”

  “Well, that’s what Linda always said,” Sue Beth answered. “She was just having fun, not doin’ anything serious. But…but if I was a bettin’ woman, I’d swear there was something going on between her and Rolland.”

  “Why Rolland?”

  “I don’t rightly know.”

  Marge asked. “What was Linda like as a mother?”

  Sue Beth shut her eyes. “Her one saving grace. Linda was a very good mother to Katie.”

  Marge doodled cubes inside her notebook, thinking about Linda’s duality. She might have been a madonna when it came to her kid, but to an old-fashioned couple like Pappy and Granny, she was nothing more than an evil whore, teaching her wicked ways to their younger daughter. Maybe Granny’s rebuke had gone beyond verbal admonitions. But then where would Luke fit into all of this?

  Marge dropped that train of thought, moved on to another motive—a stronger motive.

  “One last routine question, Sue Beth,” she said. “Do you know anyone who’d gain something from Luke’s death?”

  “Gain from Luke’s death?” She shook her head. “Just Linda. But she’s dead, too.”

  “Hmmm,” Marge said. She continued drawing cubes. “What would Linda have gained from Luke’s death?”

  “His portion of the land, of course,” Sue Beth said. “It’s divided three ways between Luke, Pappy, and me—” She suddenly reddened, couldn’t seem to find her voice.

  Marge let her blush a moment, thinking, She knows what I’m getting at. Good! She said, “Three ways. What happened to Carla?”

  Sue Beth was still scarlet. “Carla?”

  “Yeah, Carla,” Marge said. “She wasn’t included in the inheritance?”

  “When she married—if she married the right person—Pappy would have included—” Sue Beth had suddenly had enough. “What does Carla…or Pappy…or me have to do with anything? Lord knows, I was never interested in selling. And Pappy wasn’t interested in selling. And Carla never said no words about it neither. The only one who was interested in selling was Linda!”

  Marge said nothing.

  “Well, you’ve already pried into all of our affairs,” Sue Beth said. “What else do you want to know?”

  Marge took Sue Beth’s arm, stroked it gently. “I have to ask you these things, Sue Beth. I need to know everything if we’re going to get anywhere.”

  Sue Beth suddenly seemed to shrink. Her face lost all its anger. Her lip began to tremble, her eyes watered.

  “What else?” she choked out.

  “That’s all for the moment,” Marge said. “You all right?”

  “I don’t know anymore,” Sue Beth said.

  “Would you like to see Katie now?” Marge asked. “Or do you want a moment to calm down?”

  “No,” Sue Beth said. “I want Katie. Let’s get it over with.”

  Marge gently led her into Sophi Rawlings’s living room. Decker and Sophi were drinking coffee, sitting on the sofa, kids scampering around them like bedbugs. They both rose when Sue Beth and Marge entered the room, and Sophi immediately offered them coffee. Both declined. Sue Beth was shaking, hugging herself. Sophi went over to her, threw her thick arm around Sue Beth’s small shoulder.

  “She’s in the back,” she said. “You want to go outside, or should I bring her here?”

  Sue Beth mumbled something, realized no one understood her, then said loudly, “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Then just sit down and make yourself comfortable, Mrs. Litton. I’ll get you Sally.” Sophi corrected herself. “I mean Katie. Whatever you call her, she’s a fine little girl. Detective Decker and I were just talking what a sweetie pie she is. I’m so glad we found her kin.”

  “Thank you,” Sue Beth said weakly. When Sophie left, Sue Beth muttered, “I’m so nervous.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Marge said. She patted her hand. It was ice-cold.

  “It’s not like Katie doesn’t know me…but…” Her voice trailed off.

  A moment later, Sophie came back carrying Katie in her arms. The toddler was dressed in a sleeveless white shirt and green shorts. Her feet were bare, her little toes wriggling and caked with mud. Her curls had turned even more blond. Her brown eyes widened with unabashed delight when she noticed Sue Beth. She reached out her arms to her aunt.

  “Tatie Sooooo!” she shrieked. “Tatie Soo, Tatie Soo.”

  “Oh, baby,” Sue Beth said. She scooped the toddler in her arms. “Oh, my poor, poor baby.” She held her to her breast and began to cry.

  “Mama?” Katie asked. “Mama? Mama?”

  Sue Beth looked at Marge, panic etched into her face. “What do I tell her, Miss Detective? What do I tell her?”

  Decker said, “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Litton, Detective Dunn has the name of a child psychologist who might be able to help you and Katie out.”

  Quickly, Marge reached in her coat pocket and offered Sue Beth a piece of paper. “His name is Dr. Germaine, his phone number is—”

  Sue Beth looked up. “A head doctor?”

  “For Katie’s sake,” Decker said. “They’re used to dealing with crisis situations.”

  “Society for Victim’s Rights will pay for the initial visit,” Marge said. “Just try him out.”

  “Mama?” Katie said. She started to squirm in Sue Beth’s arms. “Mama, Mama
, Mama, Mama.”

  The child began to cry.

  “Oh my Lord,” Sue Beth said. “I feel sick to my stomach.”

  Again, Marge offered her the phone number.

  Katie drooped helplessly in her aunt’s arms, bleating out “Mama” like an injured lamb. Tears poured out of Sue Beth’s eyes. Her skin had turned ashen and was damp with perspiration.

  Slowly, she reached toward Marge’s outstretched hand and took the piece of paper.

  Ozzie Crandal said to Decker, “These people. They’re a real piece of work.”

  “In what way?” Decker asked.

  “Could I get a cup of coffee?” Crandal said. He loosened his tie. “I’ve been going seven hours straight without anything.”

  “If you can stand our squad-room brew,” Decker said.

  Crandal said he was used to axle-grease java, anything that didn’t stick to the bottom of the mug seemed weak. Decker poured a cup from the squad-room urn, gave it to the thin-haired detective, and sat back down at his desk. Decker loosened his tie and regarded the sixty-year-old detective. Crandal seemed a little bit more alert today. Maybe because the room was cooler than the canyon had been. Heavy guy like him must melt in the heat. Crandal thanked Decker for the coffee, then pulled out sheaves of paper from a leather-scarred briefcase.

  “This is your copy of my notes,” he said. “Read them over, ask me any questions. Just don’t ask me to reinterview them.”

  “Why?”

  Crandal took another sip. “The old man is just so full of rage it makes you nervous. You wouldn’t think it just by looking at him. I’d say he was about seventy. Squat guy with usual redneck face—tan and full of wrinkles. Got square shoulders for a man his age, back not stooped a whit. But when he talks.” Crandal raised his eyebrows. “Get in his face and he’ll blow you away.”

  “Think he blew his kids away?”

  “No,” Crandal said. “I don’t think he did. First of all, he arrived at Fall Springs before the Littons did. Got at least a half-dozen people who’ll verify that. So if anyone was suspect, I’d question Sue Beth. Find out if she had anything to gain by the deaths of her brother and sister.”