Thirty-Eight
Jack had taken Zach’s update about Abigail Cole in typical Jack fashion—in stride. It was Marsh’s call about what had transpired with Gordon Kelter that I’d thought was going to give him a heart attack. His face had turned bright red, and a vein had protruded in his forehead. If Marsh hadn’t worked her charm and dished out reassurances that she’d gotten the situation under control, we would have been loaded back into the SUV and on our way to Kelter’s by now. Instead, we were making our way up Ava Jett’s front walk.
Henderson’s e-mailed threat had come through to Jack’s phone, and he’d forwarded it to the rest of us, including Nadia so she could hopefully work her magic and trace its origin.
I read the e-mail on my phone:
You are responsible for inflicting chaos and shall suffer the consequences. Tell the police about this e-mail and you and your family will suffer the consequences.
Jenna Kelter’s disgusting habit made her a murderer. She killed an innocent man and destroyed lives. The aftermath set in motion is irreversible and has destroyed more than just a family.
I looked over at Jack. “This e-mail specifically mentions Kelter. No wonder he was so quick to remember this one particular threat.”
“I thought the same thing,” Jack said.
Jack and I went on to pay a visit to LDS and met with a brick wall. The manager had been adamant that she didn’t recognize any of the men in the photo array, which had been updated to include the delivery guy. To cement her stance that LDS wasn’t involved, she showed us a stack of colored delivery slips. The one the receptionist had signed for had been black-and-white.
Ava answered the door before we had a chance to knock. She’d ventured out of her robe but not too far from comfy clothes. She swam in a T-shirt that was two or three sizes too big, which she had paired with yoga pants. She stepped back to let us inside, not even asking why we were there, and led us through the house as she had yesterday. As we passed the kitchen, I looked in. It had been tidied. And when we reached the living room, there were no past-due notices on the coffee table.
Jack put his hands to his thighs as he took a seat on the couch. “We just have a few more questions for you.”
“Sure.” A tad hesitant, but Ava sank back into a chair and crossed her legs at the ankles.
I brought up the photo array and handed my phone to Ava. “Scroll through the next few images. Do any of them look familiar?”
Ava’s gaze went to the screen. “Am I supposed to know them?”
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard this response from someone I was questioning, but it always struck me as an odd reaction. It was funny how most of us were primed to defend ourselves. “Just let us know if you do,” I said.
Ava lifted her head and met my eyes briefly before returning her attention to the picture. She scrolled, paused, scrolled, paused. “How many pictures are there?”
“Four total,” I replied.
She scrolled once more and held my phone out to me. “I’ve never seen any of them before.”
I studied her body and facial language for any signs of lying, which could include: twitchy head movement; deepened breathing; extreme stillness; fidgeting; hands going to her mouth; covering her throat, chest, or abdomen; feet shuffling; staring or pointing, to name a few. But Ava didn’t show any of these common traits associated with deception.
I took my phone back from her and put it away.
“Now answer me this question: who are they?” Ava pressed her brow.
“We’ve learned that you received money through the church after Lester died,” Jack started. “A fairly significant amount, too.”
“After he was murdered? Yes, I did.” She crossed her arms. “Ain’t no law against taking money.”
“We never said there was,” Jack replied coolly.
“One of those men we showed you was at his funeral,” I told her. “Are you sure you’ve never seen any of these men before?”
Ava fixed a blank gaze on me. “You’ve never lost anyone you loved, have you?”
Her question caught me off guard and put me on the spot. I pulled on my collar and dropped my hand. “I’ve had people leave my life.” Though I doubted, given the context, that Ava would count my divorce.
“Because they died?” She thrust her head forward.
Where was the bell to save me?
“No,” I admitted.
“Then you haven’t a clue. I wasn’t in my right mind that day. Still not on some days. There isn’t any way that I’d remember some stranger’s face unless he gave the money to me directly. Then maybe.” Her eyes misted. “I hope you never experience loss, Agent, but the odds are you will someday. And you’ll find out it’s hell on Earth.” She turned to Jack. “You’ve lost people.”
“Sure have.” I felt Jack’s guard going up. He wasn’t the type to share emotions, and I certainly didn’t expect him to start bearing his soul right now.
“Then you know. It feels like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest and stomped on. Life as you knew it is over. You forget who you were before. Things you enjoyed doing, you don’t anymore because the one you lost was a part of it somehow.”
The front door slammed shut.
“Nathan?” Ava yelled as she got up and hurried toward the entry. “What are you doing home from school already?”
I didn’t hear an answer to her question, and Ava returned to the living room, a teenager in tow. The boy eyed Jack and me skeptically. The only thing about him that wasn’t dark was his pale skin. Everything else was black—hair, lipstick, eyeshadow, clothing, and satchel. He had piercings in his bottom lip, nose, all around his ears, and eyebrows.
“What’s going on, Mom?”
“Don’t concern yourself with it,” Ava said firmly. “We’ll talk later.”
Nathan directed his glare at his mother and then let it slide over to me. If his attitude was representative of teens, I’d apparently dodged a bullet not having kids. Though my mom would tell me there was still time for me to have a family. Normally the “wisdom” came on the tail end of too many vodka coolers, and she figured it was okay to overstep.
Nathan stomped off, and in his wake was the smell of something sweet. I sniffed in the fragrance, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Something’s happened.” Ava was looking in the direction Nathan had gone. “I should probably go talk to—”
A door slammed.
“Guess I’ll leave that for later.” Ava returned to her chair. She glanced at Jack, then me. “I really don’t remember seeing any of those men.”
I looked over at Jack, and he nodded ever so slightly. He’d picked up on the scent, too. Literally.
“Hello? Did either of you hear me?” she asked.
“We did,” I said. It was curious that she’d bring the photos up again when that part of the conversation had come to an end before Nathan had come home.
Ava pulled on the bottom of her T-shirt and was fidgeting with the hem.
“You’re sure?” I pushed.
“Yes,” she hissed.
There was something different about her since her son had shown up. She was uncomfortable, shifty. Why? What was she holding back?
“Losing someone close to you certainly makes it necessary to rediscover yourself,” Jack said. He must have sensed the same thing I had and was trying to coax her into opening up again. “I even changed careers before.”
Ah, so he wanted to address her lie about being fired.
“You weren’t always a waitress,” Jack said directly. “You said you quit your job?”
“Yeah.” She began to fidget with more vigor. Her fingers swiftly twisted and kneaded the hem now. “You found out I was fired, didn’t you?” She averted her gaze from us briefly, then brought it back to me.
“We did,” Jack confirmed, taking her attention. “Why did you tell us you quit? People get fired.”
“It was just embarrassing. I’d worked there for years. I lose Lester, and they show me the door. Who fires a grieving widow?”
“Sometimes life isn’t fair,” Jack said matter-of-factly.
“Damn straight it’s not fair!”
“Getting fired made you angry,” Jack noted aloud, adding another piece of kindling on the fire.
Ava flailed her hands in response.
“So first your husband, then your job,” Jack poked. “Talk about being under the mother of all black clouds.”
She shot to her feet. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
Jack didn’t budge from the couch. “I’m just saying, you really got a raw deal. I’d want someone to pay for that.”
“I had nothing to do with that woman’s murder!”
It was as if time stood still. My breathing halted for a few heartbeats. “What woman?”
“Jenna Kelter, that bitch who killed my husband. I never killed her!” Spittle flew from her mouth.
Then there was silence—the eye of the storm. I felt dizzy, as if someone had just cuffed me alongside the head. The differences in the way Kelter’s head had been treated, the changes to the MO…
Ava was clearly angry with Kelter. As she’d said, her heart had been “ripped out and stomped on.” She had always referred to her husband’s death as a murder, too, and to top it off, Ava was a religious person. Didn’t Sunday school teach the Bible’s code of justice, an eye for an eye? Of course, her alibis had cleared her, but there were other ways of taking someone out. She worked three jobs, so unless she was extremely irresponsible with money, she shouldn’t be in such arrears. And what about life insurance? Surely, she’d have benefited financially from Lester’s death. Where had all that money gone? Not to mention the money she’d received with the anonymous donation. I’d be going out on a limb here, but…
“Did you hire someone to take care of Jenna Kelter?” I asked.
Ava’s eyes widened, and her mouth gaped open. “As in, a hit man?”
I kept my attention on her, serious with every fiber of my being. “That’s what I’m asking.”
Ava snorted out a laugh of derision. “With what?”
Jack stood now. “We’re going to need you and your son to come with us, Mrs. Jett.”