The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3), Brian Shea [best non fiction books of all time .TXT] 📗

Her makeup was done, and she had pulled her hair back with an oversize clip. Not that it was needed. Shoemaker’s black wavy curls were coated in the visible sheen of whatever can of hairspray she’d emptied on them. Seeing her all done up was like being transported back to the mid-nineties, as if she were trying to relive the first time they met in the freshman hallway.

Her lips smacked loudly on the piece of chewing gum in her mouth. "Hi, Mikey. It's been a while."

She spoke with an overt coyness he already found exhausting.

Shoemaker entered the small confines of the elevator, and as the doors closed, Kelly had to force himself not to gag at her fragrant trail, which worsened as she spun to face him.

"Hey, Deb, I really appreciate you coming in this morning. I'm sorry to hear that you had a family emergency yesterday. I hope everything's okay."

"It was my aunt. She's got the cancer. Smoked all her life, still smoking now. Can't stop her, but she was pretty sick yesterday. I had to go and see her. My sister—you remember Josie—she said that we're coming up on her last days, so…"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Kelly said, offering a genuine apology. As rough as Debbie Shoemaker's external appearance was, Kelly knew deep down she had a heart of gold. "I won't take up too much of your time. I just want to get a feel for what you saw yesterday. My partner and I are going to run through some questions with you in the interview room, and then we'll get you on your way as quick as possible."

"I'll stay as long as you want, Mikey. You know that."

There it was again, Kelly thought. He wondered how long the flirtations would last or how bad they would get. He'd have to suffer through them—his penance today.

Kelly ignored the remark and was grateful when the bell dinged as they reached the second floor.

"It's just down this way, Deb.”

He led, she followed. He brought her to the doors and fobbed his way in.

"Ooh, Mikey. Fancy digs," she said, entering the office space.

"We have an interview room already set up."

He took her down the hallway to Interview Room A. The office was relatively empty, and only a few detectives were beginning to trickle in. Nobody had scheduled an interview this early in the morning, although as the day progressed the rooms would begin to fill.

The door was already open. Kelly flicked a switch on the wall outside the interview room.

"Debbie, just so you know, I just activated a camera system in here. We have to record everything in our interviews.”

He walked her in. A table in the center had a chair on one side and two on the opposite side where Kelly and Barnes would sit. He showed her the camera system tucked in the corner. It would be looking down at the back of Kelly’s and Barnes's heads, but into Shoemaker’s face.

A traditional interview was always designed to record as much of the suspect's reactions as possible. It was equally important to do so in a witness interview so that they could check the veracity of the statements made during the course of questioning. There were few differences between criminal and witness interviews other than the tone of the questions.

Rapport would be built, although Kelly and Shoemaker had a longstanding history, and based on the comments she'd already made, she seemed to be open to any and all questions he asked.

"Deb, can I get you a cup of coffee? Glass of water? Soda? Anything?"

"I'll take a coffee, Mike. Thanks." She plopped herself into the plastic seat and made herself comfortable.

"Just give me a second. I've got to grab my partner and that cup of coffee, and I'll be back here in just a moment. I am going to shut the door, though."

Kelly left. His first stop was the break room, where he poured a cup of coffee from the pot that was already brewed. He grabbed two creamers, a handful of sugars, and a stir stick so she could make the coffee as she liked. Then he turned his head toward Barnes. "You ready to do this, Kris?"

"Sure thing." She grabbed a notepad and stood up from her cubicle.

As she walked closer, he was grateful for the break from the heavy perfume. Kristen Barnes always kept her clean scent subtle.

"You're in for a real treat," Kelly whispered.

"Oh, I can't wait!" Barnes said. "This is your old high school girlfriend, right?"

Kelly rolled his eyes because he had already briefed her that he had known Debbie back in the day. "Not a girlfriend, Kris, although you're going to get to witness some heavy flirtations from her this morning."

"This morning just keeps getting better and better."

"Shall we?"

The two entered Interview Room A, and Kelly was once again assaulted by Debbie Shoemaker’s overwhelming aroma.

She was their first and, at present, only witness to the killer the FBI called The Penitent One.

9

They’d spent the better part of the last forty minutes in the gas chamber of perfume with Debbie Shoemaker recounting how her life led to where she was now. She'd worked herself up from the bottom and now owned her own beauty salon, which might explain the liberal application of makeup, hairspray, and perfume. Kelly had spent a great deal of effort guiding his former high school classmate back to the purpose of their conversation. The interview was not to reminisce on times past or a social catch-up, but designed for a specific recounting of any particulars from yesterday, when she had attended church at Saint Peter's and potentially witnessed the would-be killer, whether she knew it or not.

For the seventh time in the last few minutes, Kelly had to cut off Shoemaker's long-winded dissertation and guide her back on track.

"Listen, Debbie, it's been great catching up, seriously. I'm glad for you. Good to hear things are going well in your life, but I think you're forgetting why we're talking here