SOMETHING IS WRONG, Test thought. No. Not wrong. Unclear. Misunderstood. She pondered now how certain she had been initially that Victor Jenkins had murdered Jessica when she’d first found his name on the Family Matters roster. She’d been as certain as could be. She’d imagined Victor leading Jessica astray, taking advantage of her with some sort of leverage. The older man with the power. It was absurd now. Yet she had believed her theory as if it were fact.
There was evidence against Brad. Circumstantial, but mounting each day.
Still, the killing of the dogs nagged.
If whoever had killed Jessica was still out there, and Brad was in custody for the killing, why would the real killer call attention to himself by killing dogs? Perhaps he felt invincible. Like King.
King, who had no alibi.
And neither did . . . Who? Who else could not account for their actions in the time frame? Who else was not in the company of anyone during the window of time Jessica had been killed?
King. Victor. Brad. Any number of people who had made threats against the Merryfield family.
She was missing something. She felt it. Knew it. But could she any longer trust what she felt, or what she supposedly knew?
Brad seemed like the only suspect who was aware that Jessica had been alone in the house babysitting. Could King have known this? No. Unless he’d been planting the sign and peeked in a window and seen the opportunity. But there was no proof he’d planted the sign. The fingerprints were too smudged to be of use. Besides, the Merryfields’ other car, Bethany’s Lexus, had been parked in front of the creamery, suggesting that an adult could be present. So. No one else besides Brad knew Jessica was alone babysitting, except Jessica’s mother and the Merryfields. Jessica’s mother was ruled out. So were the Merryfields.
She wondered if North had gotten his hands on the incoming phone calls through the telephone company’s Local Usage Details. Perhaps there was something to be found in the LUD. A recurring number. Test found it odd Jon Merryfield had said he thought there were messages on his voice mail, but the following morning when Test had checked there had not been any. Or any numbers on the caller ID. Had Jon deleted them? What possible reason could he have? An affair. Was he having an affair? Had he had an affair with Jessica?
Test recalled information Bethany and Jon had mentioned when interviewed at their home the night of the murder. Bethany had repeated it the next morning when Test had spoken with her. Something that had happened at the restaurant. It was probably nothing. Still. Test wondered if North had checked up on it, just to take it off the table, if not for anything else.
She looked at her watch. It was nearly 3:00 P.M. She had an hour and half before she had to leave for home. Claude was in St. J, preparing his exhibit at the Kingdom Gallery. George and Elizabeth would be dropped off from the after-school program by 5:00 P.M. and Test needed time to stop to get pizza.
Before Charlie was poisoned, she wouldn’t have had any grave misgivings about leaving her kids to their own devices for a half hour or so. The bus driver made sure to watch until George and Elizabeth entered the house or were greeted by a parent before driving off. In the one or two rare instances when Test or Claude were running a few minutes late, George had locked the door behind him, and knew that he and Elizabeth were allowed to treat themselves to the Sprout Channel. Reduced to zombies by TV, there was no risk of the kids even glancing away from the screen, let alone breaking an arm or knocking out teeth with horseplay.
Test called North to ask if he’d gotten the LUD records of incoming calls.
North let out a breath. “Those were a bitch to sift through and no help. So I hear. I put two others on it. We have numbers and can trace some back. There are a lot. But without voice mail messages we don’t know who left what kind of message, who is friend or foe.”
“Can we have the Merryfields give a list of ‘friendly’ numbers?”
“We did that,” North said.
“Can we go to the unfriendly people and interview them?”
“Sure.” She sensed frustration.
“But?”
“If you left a threatening message, even if you had nothing to do with the murder, would you confess to it now?”
Playing devil’s advocate, she said, “If I was proud or loony enough about my stance.”
“I don’t have the resources or inclination to track calls not germane to our investigation.”
“Threatening calls aren’t germane?” she snipped.
“Not with our doer charged. And, I had the numbers checked to see if Brad’s cell or home number came up. They didn’t. That’s all that matters.” North yawned. Test wished he would at least get angry. Instead, he simply sounded bored.
“Were there any repeats from numbers the Merryfields don’t know?”
“Of course,” he said, exasperated, like a parent tired of a child saying, But why? Why? “But we don’t know whose numbers they are. The phone company provides the numbers under subpoena, they don’t give names or addresses. We’d have to dig for those on our own. And my team isn’t doing that because there’s no need.”
“Can I have a copy LUD?” Test said.
“Be my guest.”
Test looked at her watch. The conversation had gone longer than she’d imagined.
“What’s this all about?” North said.
She took a deep breath, cringing as she prepared to say what had struck her earlier.
“Did anyone follow up on Merryfield?” she asked.
“What are you talking about?”
“He was alone an undetermined time in the restaurant bathroom. He claimed he was sick but—”
“Claimed? No. No one checked up.” His tone one of finality.
“Of course. Would you have someone fax me the LUD report?”
“I’ll have e-mailed.”
“I’m in a rush. Fax them. If our spreadsheet programs aren’t compatible, the attachments will be all buggy and useless and I’ll just have to call back. And I won’t have to open all the attachments and print them if you fax hard copies. I’ll get them faster. Tell a subordinate. Please. Send them straightaway. I’ll owe you.”
“You already owe me.”
“I’ll go stand by now.”
Test hung up so she could switch over her line to receive a fax.