Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [readnow TXT] 📗

forward, with my elbows on the table. “Did your mother and Paul disapprove of that?”

“Not really. Not at first.”

“Not at first. So what made them change their minds?”

“He started hanging out with them after school as well. Then stopped coming to church events, stopped going to worship, and in the end, he said he was not a Christian at all.”

Dehan gave her head a small twitch. “That must have been really upsetting for your mom and for Paul. How did they take it?”

“They were very upset. We all were. But there was nothing we could do about it.”

“So that’s why your mom went for the brownies instead of asking Jacob.”

“Yes.”

I drummed my fingers on the table for a moment. I had an idea taking shape in my head. “Did he have any special friends, people he used to hang out with on a regular basis?”

She nodded. “Yes, but I didn’t know them.”

“He must have mentioned names.”

“I suppose so. I never listened.”

Dehan asked the obvious question. “Mary, do you think Jacob was getting involved with a gang?”

She shook her head, then shrugged. “Probably. It wouldn’t surprise me.”

I said, “You and Jacob were only about a year apart. You must have been pretty close when you were small.” She didn’t answer, but I could see tears in her eyes. I went on. “Did that change as he got older?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t talk to you? He didn’t try to convince you to become an atheist…”

“Not an atheist.”

“What, then?”

“I don’t know. We never talked.” Suddenly her face flushed. “I hated him! I hated him!”

I spoke very quietly. “What did he do to you, Mary, to make you hate him so much?”

The tears spilled from her eyes, her lip curled, and she buried her face in her hands. “He was a pig! He was a horrible pig and an animal! I hated him and detested him, and I am glad that he’s dead!”

Seventeen

There was a tap at the door and a uniformed officer put his head in. He spoke quietly.

“Detective Stone…”

He indicated Mary with his eyes. I put my hand on Dehan’s shoulder. “You carry on. I’ll be right back.”

I stood and stepped out of the room into the corridor, closing the door behind me. “What is it?”

“Mrs. Martin is here. She is very upset and demanding to sit in on the interview with her daughter. She seems to believe that because it’s her daughter, she has some legal right.”

“Where is she?”

“I thought you might want to talk to her, so I put her in interview room five.”

I nodded. “Good. Thanks, Chavez.”

I stepped into room five. Sylvie half stood. Her face was taut.

“Detective Stone, I demand to see my daughter. Where is she?”

I moved toward her, talking quietly. “That’s fine. We’ll be done in about five minutes. I’ll tell her you’re here. Actually, I am glad you came in. Please…” I gestured at her chair. “Take a seat.”

She sat back down and I sat, too.

“Mary is a very sensitive, vulnerable child. She was barely a year old when her father died.”

I smiled. “She’s nineteen now, Mrs. Martin. Technically she is an adult.”

She shook her head vigorously. “No, no, she’s not. She has always been very sensitive. She needs a lot of care and support.”

“Sure. I understand, Mrs. Martin. I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask you about the day Jacob was killed.”

She closed her eyes and all the color drained from her face. “Sweet Jesus, give me strength to endure these trials.”

“You do remember that day, don’t you?”

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Would you say your recollection is pretty clear and accurate?”

“Yes.”

“So, here’s the thing.” I looked her straight in the eye. “Who went back for the brownies?”

She stared at me for a long time. “I… I don’t…” She looked away, like she didn’t want to see me anymore. “I don’t know what you’re…”

I spoke loudly and deliberately. “You got to the fête and you realized there were no brownies. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Who went back for them?”

“I don’t…” she shook her head.

“What time did you go over to the church?”

“At about nine o’clock.”

“What time did you realize there were no brownies?”

She frowned, like I was an idiot. “Immediately! As soon as I started setting up the stall.”

I gave a couple of exaggerated nods. “That’s what I figured. So how come you waited till eleven before you went back to get them?”

She shook her head, still frowning. “I don’t know. I was busy. I couldn’t just…”

I smiled and spread my hands. “I understand. Like the day when Detective Dehan and I turned up and Mary had to tend the stall while you came to talk to us.” I waited. She just stared. “It was like that, right? So why didn’t you ask Mary to go get the brownies? She could have been there and back in two minutes. How come you waited till eleven?”

“I didn’t. I mean, that’s what I did. I got Mary to go.”

“You sent Mary to go and get the brownies.”

“Yes.” She nodded.

“Or perhaps you were worried about her health. I have seen how much you care for her. So maybe you had her sit and tend the stall while you went back.”

She shook her head in short, little jerks. “No.”

“Because she says it was you who went back.”

“No.”

“But, you know? I keep wondering, why didn’t you ask Jacob to bring them over?”

“He… I don’t remember.”

I leaned across the table and peered into her face, like I could open up her skull and read her mind. “What was happening, Sylvie, when you returned for the brownies? What was going on in your house?”