I had Ashley relaxed and talking and didn’t want to interrupt our conversation with her drink routine. “No thanks, it’s a little too early for me.”
“You’re right; it’s too early. I can wait until later. So where were we?”
“Did Charlie tell you anything about a plan Mr. Larkin had to kidnap Nathan Walker? Nathan had installed surveillance cameras around the house. Maybe he mentioned Walker Securities?”
“I remember him telling me about this rich chick in a big house, near the site, who kept bothering him. That was the first time I heard the name Larkin. The husband didn’t want him to do anything until later. It was the wife who approached him first.”
“Mrs. Larkin? Do you know what she looks like? Did you ever meet her?”
“One time. She’d flirt with the guys out there. Thought she was all that, know what I mean? She was one of those AMWs.”
“Actress, Model, Whatever. You see them all the time. Pretty in an artificial way. Fake nails, fake eyelashes, fake blonde hair . . . money can buy a whole lot of pretty.”
I felt sorry for Ashley. She must have been so jealous of Mrs. Larkin. “Did you think they were having an affair?”
Her jaw clenched; her hands tightened into fists. She couldn’t contain her anger and stood up. First she walked to the door, then back to the large TV mounted on the wall and stared into the black screen as though it was a mirror. As she walked back to the couch, she said, “I sure did. And I told him so. Oh, he denied it of course. He always did. But I kept at him, hounded him, until he finally convinced me that she loved her husband and only wanted Charlie to do a job. She offered to pay him ten thousand dollars. How could he refuse?”
“What did she want him to do?”
“Make the mistress back off.”
So Mr. Larkin had a mistress. A beautiful, young wife wasn’t enough for him. Maybe he got bored being in that big house alone while she was out in the world running a business. Or maybe he was one of those people who needed constant attention, always having to be in the spotlight.
“How far was he supposed to go?”
“In the beginning, it was all kinds of vague. So Charlie suggested starting off with a phone call, threatening to tell the lover’s husband everything. Mrs. Larkin didn’t want to do it. Her number could be traced. Her voice could give her away. She had a hundred reasons why Charlie had to do it.”
“Why did she pick him in the first place?” I wondered aloud.
“Come on, Mrs. Sullivan,” Ashley scoffed. “People can spot a wreck like Charlie a mile off. You see this pathetic guy and you know he’ll do just about anything for a few bucks. She knew she could use him.”
“How many calls did he make?”
“Just two. The first time seemed to scare her a little. But the second one made her really mad. She told him that if he bothered her again, she’d call the police. When he reminded her about how much her husband and kid would be hurt, she said she didn’t care, that she wouldn’t be bullied or blackmailed.”
“And Charlie reported all this to Mrs. Larkin?”
“Yep, he sure did. That’s when she refused to give him any of the money she promised. Not a cent. She claimed he hadn’t done the job she’d hired him to do. That really set Charlie off. He told her he should get something. He’d put his neck out there, threatened the woman. But that woman refused to be reasonable. They went back and forth like that for a few days, each of them making demands, getting madder, until they came up with a new . . . arrangement. Twelve thousand if Charlie would go out to that woman’s house and . . . you know . . . scare her . . . get in her face.”
“Were there any parameters set? Any limits to how far he should go?”
“If there were, he never told me. All I know is, he drove out to where that woman lived. He said he watched her a few days, trying to get familiar with her routine. But with kids coming and going and a husband in and out, it was difficult. Charlie’s brain got damaged with all the drugs he did, and he was getting desperate for the money to buy more. Real stupid, I know. And Daddy was threatening to cut me off because I was living with a bum that didn’t even show up for work half the time. So I helped him . . . kind of.”
“What did you do?”
“I took notes. Charlie would ride out to her house and park down the street. He’d call and tell me what was happening. I’d record the time and date. We did that for a week.”
I knew criminals were stupid, but these two took the cake.
“When we knew for sure the husband would be gone and the kids were at school, Charlie forced his way inside. That woman wasn’t so smart then.”
I got the sense that in some sick way, Ashley was proud of her man. “And he beat her?”
“Charlie was a lot of things, Mrs. Sullivan, but he wasn’t violent. He’d yell and shout, but he never touched me. When he got close to that woman, he just wanted to scare her. But she stood up to him. Even when he showed her the gun, she wouldn’t back down.”
“So he shot her?”
“No, he never used his gun. He just couldn’t pull the trigger.”
“If he didn’t hit her or shoot her, what did he do?”
“He told me he was going to push her around a little, just until she got it through her head that he meant business. That’s all he was going to do, I swear. But then she grabbed a knife off the counter and came at him. She was screaming like a lunatic, waving the blade, jabbing at him. He grabbed for it a couple of times and cut his hand. All the while he’s trying to calm her down. Charlie didn’t want to kill her, Mrs. Sullivan. You have to believe me.”
To get the rest of the story, I told her I believed her. But the two people in that kitchen that day were the only ones who knew the complete truth. And they were both dead.
She seemed calmer and continued. “They wrestled around like that awhile. Charlie said they trashed the kitchen. She got him in the shoulder once. When he saw the wound, he got crazy. And real strong. He told me he’d never felt that way before. Not even when he was high. The stronger he got, the weaker and more tired she got until he was on top of her on the floor. By then he’d had enough. All he wanted was for it to be over. So he stabbed her. Once. In the stomach.”
“Were you there?” I had a feeling Ashley was more involved in this than she was letting on.
“No! I was here. Alone.”
“But Charlie must have called you after realizing that woman was dead. He must have been scared, trying to figure out what his next step would be.”
“He was going out of his mind. So I had to talk him through it. And since he didn’t want my prints or DNA on anything, he had to do it himself.”
Accessory to a crime, aiding and abetting, the DA could come up with a list a mile long to bring Ashley Knight to trial. While I sat there listening to her story, it was difficult not to fall back into police-chief mode. But first I had to hear the ending.
“How did you talk him through it?”
“I told him to wipe everything down. He’d thought enough to wear gloves.” She smiled like a mother bragging about her child’s report card.
There was still his blood, DNA, and hair left behind. But I didn’t bring up those pesky details.
“Then he ran and got a sheet, wrapped her up, and loaded her body into his truck—well, my truck. He said he knew a place outside the city limits and drove out there.”
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach when I asked, “Do you know the name of this woman?”
“Carolyn Watson. I thought you knew that when you first came out here. You can imagine how surprised—no, relieved—I was when you never mentioned her. Neither you nor the police thought that Charlie was connected to Mrs. Watson. Don’t you think that’s strange?”
She was sincere when she asked me. And I hoped my confusion didn’t show when I answered. “Well . . . not really. My only concern was for Nathan. First to find him and now to bring him some answers.”
“I imagine he needs closure. I know I certainly do. With someone like Charlie, everything was always so simple. All the answers were there, no questions. But I’ve been debating about if I should call the police and tell them who killed Mrs. Watson so they can stop running around town. But then I’d be in trouble. And that wouldn’t bring back Charlie or that poor woman. What good would it do anyone to put me in jail? And a trial costs the state so much money.”
She seemed harmless enough, sitting there, trying to reconcile her actions. But I’d witnessed too many seemingly calm, confused people just snap. I half expected her to rush across the room at me as she slowly realized she had incriminated herself and that I was the only person who knew about her part in Carolyn’s murder. Smiling, I reviewed self-defense moves I’d learned so many years ago, hoping I wasn’t too old or out of practice to use any of them. The front door wasn’t locked, and I could certainly outrun her to the back door. If there was one.
“So what do you think I should do?” she asked me. “It’s not as if I killed anyone. I wasn’t even there. Right?”
“As far as I can see, you’re an innocent bystander,” I lied. “My daughter’s a lawyer. She’s fair, and I could talk to her about possibly representing you.”
“I’ll have to think about that.” Ashley stood up again. “Well, now I really need a drink. Sure you won’t change your mind?”
“Maybe another time.”
When she rushed toward me, every muscle tightened.
“You’ve been great, Mrs. Sullivan. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll stay in touch.”
I stood up and started for the door, unable to believe she was going to just let me walk out.
“Wait! You can’t leave yet!”
I turned.
“Do you have one of your daughter’s cards?”
I fished around in my purse and came up with one that Lizzie had given me when she moved into her new office. “Here you go.”
She read every word on it while I watched, still wondering what to make of the woman in front of me.
“Do you think you could wait until tomorrow before you call the cops on me? Or maybe Tuesday? I promise I won’t skip town. Where would I go?”
Since we were on good terms, I had to ask about the money Charlie supposedly got for killing Carolyn Watson. “Did he at least get the twelve thousand dollars Mrs. Larkin promised? And if he did, is there any left for you?”
“He said he got it, but I never saw one dollar. Maybe that fool hid it here somewhere. Who knows? Daddy’s not speaking to me, even though Charlie’s gone. So you can see, I don’t have anywhere to go. I can’t even try to make a run for it. That truck of mine can barely make it around the block. Besides, it’ll probably be taken in as evidence, since it’s the one Charlie put her in to drive out to the Coleman Farm.”