EARLY FRIDAY AFTERNOON
The interrogation room bears no resemblance to the harshly lit concrete spaces on TV. There’s no one-way mirror or glass wall, only overhead cameras in each of the four corners. Freddie and Erika sit on one side of the table, while Andre and Kashi sit opposite.
Right off, Erika observes they’re distracted, whispering in one another’s ears and leaving the room repeatedly for hallway conferences before the interrogation starts. Andre, freshly returned from the search of her premises, does not even say hello, which she finds disconcerting.
Perhaps this is a technique to get her to break, though Freddie dismisses her theory. “You’re not the only case on the books,” he says, flipping to a fresh page on his legal tablet. “The VSP is stretched way too thin. Trust me.”
At last, the two troopers return to the room and settle down. “This is purely a discussion,” Kashi says, more to Freddie than to Erika. “No charges have been filed. We are simply looking for information.” Turning to Erika, she says, “Please tell us about the last time you saw Robert Barron.”
Again? She feels like she keeps answering this same question over and over. Exasperated, Erika turns to Freddie for a cue, but he says only, “Go ahead. I’ll stop you if necessary.”
“Like I told you on Tuesday when we went to look at my car, shortly after midnight early Sunday morning.”
“It’s our understanding you left the wedding approximately eight hours earlier in somewhat of a huff,” Andre says, twirling his pencil.
A huff? “I didn’t leave in a huff. My mother was getting on my nerves, I was tired after a lot of wedding planning and wasn’t in the mood for dancing.”
“Because you were so upset Robert Barron married the rival for your affections?”
Erika’s jaw drops. This is so beyond the pale she’s speechless.
“This questioning is out of line,” Freddie jumps in. “If you’re here to settle old scores, Trooper Picard, you should step off the case.”
Thank you, Freddie, Erika thinks, though she’s curious as to how he’s aware of Andre’s ax to grind. Perhaps her mother put a bug in his ear when she called to ask him to provide legal representation after Kashi insisted Erika come with her back to the barracks.
Andre sinks slightly lower in his chair while Kashi picks up the ball. “To recap, the last contact you had with Robert Barron was Sunday morning?”
Oh, my god. Again? But, since Freddie doesn’t object, Erika answers, “That’s right.”
“And what about Holly?” Kashi asks.
“Saturday at the wedding. Briefly. To congratulate her.”
“And what about Colton Whitcomb?” Kashi asks. “When did you last have contact with him?”
Freddie nods to indicate she can answer.
“About three weeks ago. He came by the house to take measurements for the farm table Holly commissioned. But I didn’t really see him that day. By then, he and Holly were working closely on a design. All I did was introduce them at the farmers’ market. Holly was blown away by his smaller pieces and his whole philosophy, so to speak, of woodworking. So she asked him to build her a farmer’s table with a breadboard. Having a table featured on To the Manor Build is a big deal, as you can imagine. A career maker. He was pretty psyched.” She glances at Freddie, hoping that wasn’t too much information.
“Were you and Colton still in a romantic relationship when you introduced him to Holly Barron?” Andre’s back with his annoying suggestions.
Freddie holds up a hand, but Erika needs to set the record straight, especially in light of Andre’s grudge against her. “No. Long over. Colton and I dated for six weeks last year, from July Fourth to Labor Day or thereabouts. Classic summer romance.”
Andre smirks. “Who ended the relationship?”
She looks to Freddie, who shrugs. “Go ahead, if you want, Erika.”
“It was mutual. Colton quit his job as a stockbroker and started smoking a lot of dope and living in the woods. Not exactly my idea of Mr. Right.”
Kashi snorts and quickly tries to hide her smile with her coffee cup.
“But you continued to have contact with him,” Andre says.
“Like I just said, only professionally. Actually, Holly had more contact with him than I did. She apparently went to his workshop last week to check on the table’s progress, according to a few emails I found in her outbox.”
Kashi says to Andre, “Have we secured that computer, yet?”
“We’ve included it in the affidavit,” he says. “The judge should have approved the warrant by now so I assume that’ll be part of the search.”
Which means they’ll find the passports, Erika thinks. That’s far better than her admitting she riffled through Holly and Robert’s personal belongings without their permission. She’s beginning to understand why Freddie told her to limit her answers to their specific questions.
Kashi flips to a new page in her notebook and Erika senses a shift in the atmosphere when she asks, “What can you tell us about a man named Zeke Strickland?”
Finally! Erika relaxes slightly when Freddie doesn’t object. Stick to the question, she reminds herself before answering. “I know he’s the prior owner of the property Robert bought.”
“When did you last have contact with him?” Andre asks.
What’s he implying now, that they’re colluding? Erika turns to Freddie, who says, “C’mon, Trooper Picard. You know better than that. Rephrase.”
Andre smirks. Can’t help a guy for trying, he seems to be saying. “Have you ever had contact with Zeke Strickland?”
Erika thinks of the NDA with his name on it. She doesn’t want to the cops to accuse her of lying if they come across it in their search of the house, which they’re bound to do. “Not that I know of.”
“Interesting.” Andre arches a brow. “Not that you know of? Could you expound on that?”
Freddie studies her like a hawk regarding a field mouse, ready to pounce if she speaks out of turn. “I mean to my knowledge we’ve never met. For all I know he could have been one of the contractors in and out of the house for the past few weeks. I don’t know for sure because I don’t know what he looks like, though I’ve tried Googling him. He’s not on the internet.”
“Why were you Googling him?” Andre’s eyes gleam.
She doesn’t want to tell him about the letters, since that will lead them down a whole other rabbit hole. “I’ve heard stories about how pissed he was after Robert had him evicted. I just wanted to know what he looked like, in case he came around the house and started causing trouble.”
“Where’d you hear these stories?” Andre asks.
Erika cocks her head. “Are you kidding? Didn’t you grow up here, too? Everyone talks about everyone.” And then, because she can’t resist, she adds, “You know how harmful that is, right?”
Andre meets her gaze, but says nothing. Kashi seizes the opportunity to jump back in. “Did your employers ever mention Mr. Strickland? Did they warn you that he was dangerous, that he might have a weapon and that you shouldn’t let him into the building, that kind of thing?”
Erika thinks back. Oddly, she realizes, they hadn’t. They routinely referred to him as “the prior owner” and never as someone to avoid, which is weird considering she is almost totally convinced Zeke has done them harm. “No. Not that I can recall. We never discussed Zeke by name in any context.”
“And, yet, you were so concerned about Mr. Strickland,” Andre says, leaning close, “that you went hunting for his image online. I’m curious. Why would you go to all that effort for no reason?”
“That’s it. We’re done.” Freddie pushes back his chair. “This line of questioning is getting ridiculous. Come on, Erika.”
Startled by the abrupt end of the interrogation, Kashi says, “We will likely have more questions. So we would advise your client not to leave the jurisdiction.”
“My client has no intention of going anywhere,” Freddie says, shrugging on his suit coat. “Though since she’s not under arrest, I want to make it clear she’s under no obligation to stay. Erika?”
She follows him to the door and then pauses, turning to the troopers with one last question of her own. “I have to know. How did Colton die?”
“Just like your father, Erika.” Andre gives her a knowing grin. “Interesting. That looked like an accident, too.”