An Intimate Murder (The Catherine O'Brien Series) (4 page)

“I don’t like to be touched by anyone,” he said to Louise then turned his gaze to me. “Especially not by some fucking cop.”

Louise’s earlier assessment of Chad’s emotional fragility had been wide off the mark. This kid was going full on punk kid, attitude and all, which was fine by me. I could treat him like a punk if that’s what he wanted.

“Did you kill your parents, Chad?” I tossed my purse on the sofa next to me and opened it as if I didn’t care what his answer or reaction would be. “What? They gave you the Spyder instead of the Bugatti so you offed them?”

I located a pack of Wrigley’s in the side pocket of my purse, and offered a stick to Louise, before taking one of my own.

“Fuck you, okay!” Chad strangled the edges of his blanket and shook with rage. His fingernails were tipped with peeling black nail polish. “I didn’t kill my fucking parents. You fucking whore.”

I balled up the gum’s tinfoil wrapper and launched it at Chad. It bounced off the greasy bangs on his forehead.

“You fucking bitch!” He shook out of the blanket.

“Hey!” I slapped my palm down on the coffee table. Chad jumped with surprise.

“You be nice,” I said.

“Or what?” He was now huffing breaths like a marathon runner.

“Or I’ll place you under arrest for the murder of your parents.”

“I didn’t kill my parents,” he bleated.

I pointed to my chest. “I don’t care, Chad. If you don’t behave, I’ll haul your ass in, and make sure you get a full body cavity search before your lawyer can say police brutality.”

Chad fell back in his chair, jerked the blanket edges around his shoulders, and stared at the fireplace again.

I glanced at Louise. “He’s so fragile I don’t know if we should question him just yet.”

Louise, safely hidden behind Chad’s back so she was sure he couldn’t see her unprofessional behavior, flipped me the bird.

And she lectures me on tact?

“Ask me your questions,” Chad said. “Just don’t touch me.”

“Fair enough,” Louise said. “Why don’t you begin by telling us exactly what happened. We’ll jump in if we want to know more.”

Pam Hind came in carrying two cups of coffee. She set one in front of me and then perched on the edge of the sofa next to me holding her cup cradled between her two hands.

“Is everything okay in here? I thought I heard raised voices.”

“Oh no, not raised voices.” Chad fanned his hand in front of his face. “We’re fine and we don’t need an audience.”

Pam’s eyes widened. Her mouth moved open, but any protest she could make muted by Chad’s hard glare.

“Come on lady.” He turned his face back to the fire. “Take a hint.”

“What did I say about being nice,” I said and considered throwing something else at him.

“No, it’s okay.” Pam set her cup on the table with a clatter then stood. “I have some laundry to take care of this afternoon. You go ahead and talk in private.”

She left.

Louise whose normally placid expression had turned dour said, “Maybe we should do this at the station.”

Chad pffed out a breath. “Whatever.”

“Start talking,
Chad
.”

“I came home and they were dead,” he said. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“When was the last time you spoke to your parents?” Louise asked before I could verbally assault him again.

“This morning, around ten, I called to let them know I’d be over for dinner.”

I snapped my gum. “You don’t live with your parents?”

Chad didn’t have the look of a kid in shock. Instead, his features seemed frozen in the dull, bored look of a man holding his wife’s purse at the mall. The look was wrong – unsettling somehow.

“No, I didn’t live with my parents.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I live at the dorms at the University. My parents always wanted me to come home on the weekends for dinner. Mom would clean my clothes for me.”

Too bad, she didn’t wash his hair for him too. It looked like the grease that coated the strands would repel water and soap.

“Did you go in through the front door?” Louise asked.

“No, I went through the garage. I have a garage door opener.”

“You went in through the garage and then where did you go first?” Louise thumb typed notes into her smartphone.

Chad cleared his throat. “I went to the kitchen. I figured that’s where Mom would be, but she wasn’t.”

An almost imperceptible shiver ran over him.

“Then I went into the living-room to watch TV.” His voice cracked and wavered. “There was a smell. It was bad.”

True. After all these years, I’d learned to block out the copper smell of blood mixed with feces and urine. My brain registered the smell but the receptors in my nose shut down.

“She was on the floor.”

“Did you touch her?” I said.

“I don’t remember. I puked, I remember that, and the next thing I remember was running through the house yelling for my Dad. I found him in his train room.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“Did you touch him?” Louise asked.

“No.” Chad spoke into his lap. “I didn’t touch anything. I just ran.”

“Which direction did you run?” I asked.

His head jerked up. “Why does it fucking matter? God it’s not like you people will do anything about their murders anyway. My Grandma was killed and the cops never caught her killer. The fat fuck of a cop who investigated her murder just rubbed my head and said,
that’s the way things crumble sometimes, cookie
. So do me a favor, and don’t pretend. Just go back to your station house, eat your donuts, and collect your fat checks at the end of the week.”

That explained his hostility toward cops. I’d be more than a little pissed too in the same situation.

“I’m sorry about your Grandmother,” I said. “That really sucks.”

Finally his tears fell.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Where was she killed?” Louise asked.

Chad turned a blank expression toward her as if he didn’t know about whom Louise was talking.

“Your Grandmother,” Louise clarified. “Was she killed in Saint. Paul?”

“No.” The tears stopped as if the floodgates closed. “She was killed up north, near Duluth. We lived in a small town up there. Her murder is why we moved to Saint Paul. My parents didn’t want to live in the same town as the person who killed my Grandma. They didn’t want to live with the rumors either.”

“Rumors?” I asked.

“Yeah, there were rumors that the family killed her.”

I leaned forward. “Did the police ever have a suspect?”

Chad’s eyes went from hard onyx, to the soft orbs of a doe, like it were the first time anyone was truly interested in what he said. He gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“I don’t know. I think they did, but they didn’t.”

I wondered if there were any relatives left to take care of him. True, Chad was old enough to be on his own, but age didn’t make being alone in the world easier.

Chad pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“That was a long time ago,” I said, “and we’re not small town Sheriffs, marking time until our pension kicks in. We have the best forensics guy in the state working with us. Louise and I aren’t slouches either.”

Louise gave him the knee-melting smile. Chad Luther tried to resist but didn’t last. He finally smiled.

“Chad,” Louise said. “We need to know where you went in the house, because there might be fibers, blood, or other evidence from the killer. You may have accidentally contaminated the scene.”

“I didn’t.”

Louise held up her hand. “You don’t know that for sure and neither do we. Please tell us which direction you left the house.”

“The same way I went in – through the garage.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Louise dipped her hand into the side pocket of her jacket and came up with a business card. “Chad I want you to take this card. I’m going to write my cell phone number on the back.”

She fished a pen from her purse quicker than I could have found my wallet on some days. Then again, her purse was the size of my shoe. My purse was the size of a grocery bag. Louise jotted her cell on the back of the card and handed the paper to Chad.

“If you need anything or have questions about the investigation, please call or text me. We’re happy to answer your questions.”

We’d be happy to answer questions, but he only had her numbers. What did she think I’d say?
Quit bugging me kid
.

“Your parent’s murders are our only priority,” Louise said. “We’re not going to come back, rub your head, and say tough break kid.”

“That’s right,” I agreed. “I personally don’t want to touch your head.”

They both stared at me in disbelief.

“Well, not until you shower.”

Chad laughed, not heartily, but a healthy laugh. Maybe the shock had dissipated enough to allow him to grieve.

“We are sorry for your loss, Chad.” Louise touched his arm again. I held my breath and waited for the explosion that never came.

“Thanks.” Chad’s shoulders slumped and the frame of his thin body seemed to float in the overstuffed recliner.

“Is there anyone you can call?” Louise asked. “Somewhere you can stay tonight, so you’re not alone?”

He sniffed up a wad of snot, and then ran his hand under his nose. “My aunt, Linda. I should call her and let her know.”

“We’ll call her for you,” I said. “One of the uniformed officers will take you to your Aunt’s house.”

Chad shifted to his left side, reached around behind, and pulled out his wallet. He opened the wallet and tucked Louise’s business card in the money slot. In the process, he tipped the wallet enough for me to see a large stash of bills inside, beginning with a hundred dollar bill. He snapped the wallet shut, leaned to the left, and replaced it in its accustomed place, over his right butt cheek.

“Thank you.” He said the words with enough sincerity to make me believe him, and then returned to staring at the fire.

Louise and I found Pam Hind right where she said she’d be; ankle deep in dirty laundry. Instead of separating the clothes into piles of light and dark, Pam sorted through the layers of clothing until she found the color she wanted.

She picked up a pair of jeans, pulled off the white pair of underwear, that been shucked at the same time as the jeans, and then she tossed the jeans into the washer.

“Ms. Hind,” I said.

Her whole body jerked upward and forward. She dropped the clothes and gripped the edge of the dryer like she were about to vault the machine. After a few moments, Pam caught her breath.

“Oh, Detectives.” She laid her hand over her chest. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit nervous considering.”

Pam pointed toward the outside wall in the direction of the Luther’s house.

“Perfectly natural,” Louise said and leaned against the jam of the laundry room door. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about though.”

Pam’s brows drew together. “What do you mean? Wasn’t there a robbery?”

“Not that we could tell,” Louise said.

Pam turned her questioning eyes to me. I pressed my lips together and nodded my support for Louise’s theory.

“Really?” Pam bent, snagged a black t-shirt, and slam-dunked it into the washer with all the grace of pro basketball player. “I just assumed they were killed in a robbery.”

“All the electronics and easily pawned items are still in the house,” I said. “The Luther’s murder appears to be motivated by something other than robbery.”

Pam dropped the lid of the washing machine into place with a hollow, metal, thunk.

“They seemed like such a nice couple. I can’t believe they could be involved in anything seedy enough for murder.”

A familiar refrain. Every victim’s neighbor says something similar.

“Did Chad tell you anything helpful about his parent’s deaths?”

“He told us what we needed to know from him.” Louise side stepped the question with ease. “We’d like to ask you about what you saw today.”

Pam nodded. “Of course, if I can help. Why don’t we go into the kitchen? That way we won’t disturb Chad again.”

More like Pam Hind didn’t want to incur Chad’s wrath. Until he left for his aunt’s house, she'd give Chad a wide birth.

Louise and I sat at the breakfast bar while Pam tidied her kitchen, which was as overrun with dirty dishes as her laundry room was with dirty clothes. Pam Hind hadn’t been expecting company today, or in the near future, and it showed. A fine veil of dust, accumulated over some time, hazed her entire house.

“Sorry for the mess.” Blossoms of red appeared on her cheeks. “I’ve been winterizing the house and cleaning up the yard so I haven’t had a lot of time to work inside.”