Dead Wrong. Janice Johnson Kay
Читать онлайн книгу.
busy lodge, they stamped snow from their boots. Meg Patton led the way upstairs to what appeared to be offices. A secretary smiled and said, “Scott said to give you the small conference room. Can I bring you coffee?”
“Please,” the lieutenant said.
If she’d turned it down, Trina would have whimpered. She was shivering and trying to hide it. Damn, she thought. Why hadn’t she taken a job somewhere warmer? She didn’t even like snow. The LAPD must have openings on a regular basis. Or maybe San Diego.
In the conference room, Doug Jennings dropped his gloves on the table, stripped off his snow-white hat with the cute pompom and peeled off his form-fitting parka. Very reluctantly, Trina divested herself of her outer layers. Gratefully seizing a mug of the coffee the secretary brought, she sat next to the lieutenant and opened her notebook.
Lieutenant Patton asked, “Mr. Jennings, when did you last see your ex-wife?”
His face crumpled, as if he were about to cry. “Wow. I can’t believe she’s dead. Amy was…” He swallowed. “Um. When did I see her the last time. Maybe Monday?” He pondered. “Yeah. Monday. I ran into her at Safeway. Kind of on purpose. See, I know she shops there, and she usually goes after work. So that’s when I shop.”
“But you are divorced.”
“Yeah, but…” He took a huge breath and let it out in a rush, his beseeching gaze moving from Lieutenant Patton’s to Trina’s and back. “I didn’t want to be! I love Amy! I shouldn’t have let her go.”
“And how did Ms. Owen feel about your pursuit?”
Expression ingenuous, he said, “I think she was coming around.” As if reading doubt on their faces, he added, “Really! We’ve actually kind of gotten together a couple of times lately. You know.”
They knew.
“Had you asked her to marry you again?”
“She said no, but not like she was mad or wanted me to leave her alone. More like…” He frowned. “Like she was teasing. I figured it was just a matter of time.”
“And the issues that led to the divorce in the first place?”
“I told her we could have a baby if she wanted. Kids are okay.”
Trina barely refrained from rolling her eyes at his magnanimity.
Lieutenant Patton’s voice changed. “Mr. Jennings, I have to ask where you were from Wednesday evening until Thursday morning.”
“Where I was?” He gaped at her, and Trina realized he really was naive enough not to have realized why he was being questioned in the first place. Bronwen was right; he was dumb. “You don’t think I…” Wildly searching their faces, he saw that they did indeed think the possibility existed that he had murdered his ex-wife. “I loved Amy!”
“Mr. Jennings, we’re obligated to rule out an ex-husband. If we can verify your whereabouts…”
He relaxed. “Oh, sure. Um…” More deep thinking. “I was here. I worked late shift on Wednesday evening. After the lifts shut down at ten, some of us stopped at the Timberline for drinks.”
The same place Amy had been earlier in the evening.
“You didn’t see Amy there?” Trina asked.
Both the lieutenant and Doug looked startled to hear her speak.
“No. It must have been close to eleven by the time we got there. She gets up early for work. She wouldn’t have still been out…” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
Hastily, before the moistness in his eyes could develop into a deluge, the lieutenant asked, “How late did you stay?”
He seemed to focus with an effort. “I don’t know. Until about one? Then Steve and I went back to our place and crashed.”
“Steve?”
“My roommate? Steve Bacon? He works lifts, too.”
“I see.”
Trina could read her mind. Why the hell hadn’t anybody mentioned that Doug Jennings had a roommate?
“Is Mr. Bacon here at the ski area today?”
“Sure!” He started to surge to his feet, then checked himself and sank back in the chair. “I think he’s working Outback today.”
The lieutenant abruptly stood. “Just one moment.”
She slipped out, returning quickly. “All right, Mr. Jennings. A couple more questions. Was Ms. Owen dating other men?”
“Flirting sometimes. Maybe just to make me jealous.” Even he didn’t believe himself.
“Did she mention anyone making her nervous? Following her, bugging her for a date?”
“Nothing like that.” He shook his head and pleaded, “Why Amy? Everybody liked Amy.”
Voice gentle, Meg Patton said, “The chances are that she was chosen randomly, simply because she happened to be alone at the wrong moment.”
His face worked. He cleared his throat. “Are you, uh, done with me?”
“Yes. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Jennings.”
Face still contorted, he nodded, shoved the chair back and blundered from the room.
The two officers sat in silence for a moment. “What did you think?” the lieutenant asked.
“My impression is, he’s sincere. Also not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”
“No kidding.” Lieutenant Patton let out a gusty sigh. “I’m liking the feel of this less and less.”
Trina knew what she meant. A murder committed by a spurned ex-husband was one thing; a brutal, sexually motivated murder by a stranger choosing a victim only because she was available and fit a vague “type” was another altogether.
After a moment, Trina asked, “Did you send for the roommate?”
Still brooding, the lieutenant nodded. “Let’s squeeze him in before we talk to Travis. We might as well accomplish as much as we can while we’re here.”
Steve Bacon arrived a minute later, dark-haired, at least, but otherwise fitting the mold: blue eyes sapphire-bright against that glowing tan skiers all seemed to have. Cold air and an aura of energy entered the conference room with him. His glance took in Trina, dismissed her in an all-too-familiar way and turned to Lieutenant Patton.
Irritated, Trina said too loudly, “We understand the area was open for night skiing on Wednesday.”
She felt the flick of the lieutenant’s gaze. Nonetheless, Meg Patton stayed quiet.
As if she were an idiot, Steve Bacon said, “Yeah, sure. It always is.”
“And did you work?”
“Yeah. I ran the Gold Coast lift.”
“Did you carpool up here that day?”
She must have sounded too bellicose.
He balked. “Is this about Amy’s murder? Why are you asking me questions?”
“Can you just answer the question, please.”
“I rode with Doug. Doug Jennings. We take turns when we’re working the same shift.”
“And you did that night.”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“What did you do after the lifts shut down?”
He told the same story Doug had. He was more certain about the time, because he’d glanced at the clock when they walked in their apartment. “We got home at 1:45. Then we sat around and bull-shitted for a while. I don’t know. Maybe an hour. Neither of us