Bowled Over (16 page)

“Coffee?” he asked, holding up his mug.

“No, we’re not here on a social call,” Valetta snapped, hands on her hips. She had taken off her sunglasses and donned her usual thick, clear glasses. “Have you been here since the murder of Kathy Cooper?”

He warily shrugged, his gaze sliding away to settle on the old Arborite dinette set.

“A shrug is not an answer. Johnny, I know the police have been here knocking on your door and that you haven’t answered. Why?”

Hoppy busily sniffed around Stanko’s bare feet, but the man didn’t move. He watched Valetta like she might lunge and bite him, but otherwise didn’t say a word. Jaymie watched him in turn, wondering if he was the one who had murdered Kathy. Valetta glanced around the kitchen, her gaze pausing on the pie plate full of cigarette butts, and asked, “Do you have any food here?”

“You hungry?” He turned and padded into the next room,
and Valetta and Jaymie followed. “I got Cheetos, and Slim Jims and some corn chips left,” he said, rustling through some shopping bags on the sofa.

Valetta, her charm bracelet jingling on her bony wrist, grabbed the man’s shoulder. “Johnny, what did you do with the heavy glass bowl I gave you at the picnic, the one that had the potato salad in it? What did you do with it after you finished the salad?”

“I didn’t kill Kathy Cooper with it, if that’s what they’re saying,” he growled.

So he had heard about the murder weapon? How? Jaymie wondered.

“So what
did
you do with it? I told you to bring it back.”

“And I did. I…” He trailed off, and his gaze slid sideways, then he continued, saying, “I put it back on the table.”

Jaymie would have staked her life on the fact that Johnny Stanko was lying, and if he was, why? What had he really done with the bowl? “Are you sure?” she asked, examining his expression.

He glared at her. “Don’t you believe me?”

“You’ve got to tell the police that, Johnny,” Valetta commanded. “Promise me you’ll go to the station and tell them.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Good. Do it today.”

Jaymie glanced at Valetta in surprise. Did her normally skeptical friend really think Stanko was a) telling the truth, and b) going to actually go to the police?

“You know, I was standing at the railing trying to work up the guts to apologize to Craig for all the crappy things I did to him in school, the swirlies, the pantsings, the noogies, the name-calling. And then that witch, Kathy, lit into me like I was some slug she was going to squash. She got me upset.” His rumbling voice had a defeated whine to it.

“But you did the right thing, Johnny, you walked away,” Valetta said. “I told you how proud I was of you.”

Of course, he hadn’t walked away until after he had threatened them, Jaymie thought, remembering his comment about whacking them both.

He nodded, looking like he was going to cry. “You’ve been real good to me, Val, not like most people in this town.”

“I promised your sister I’d look after you if you came back to Queensville.”

He nodded, tears welling in his eyes. “Poor Tammy! I miss her.”

“I have to go,” Jaymie said, uneasily. “Hoppy has to piddle.” It was far too possible that they were standing in the home of a murderer, but Valetta seemed to have a blind spot where Stanko was concerned, so she was not about to say it.

“Okay, I have to go, too.” Valetta put both hands on Stanko’s broad shoulders and shook him. “Go to the cops, Johnny. I know you’re scared, and I know you think they’re out to get you, but that’s not true. You need to go tell them everything so they can eliminate you as a suspect.”

He looked sullen and unconvinced, which would be natural enough if he was really guilty of Kathy’s murder.

Jaymie and Valetta walked back toward Jaymie’s house in silence. Jaymie wished she could find a way to probe Valetta about Stanko’s criminal past, but she was so protective of him! “Do you really think he’s going to go to the police?”

Valetta shook her head. “I wish I could be sure. I’ll check in on him later.”

She headed home, and Jaymie let Hoppy into the backyard, while she checked the answering machine; there was a message from the police asking her to drop in to the station. Oops! She was supposed to go and sign her statement.

After an early lunch, Jaymie took Becca’s car—it was a smoother ride than her rattletrap van—and headed out to the highway, where the new chrome-and-glass police department was. It shouldn’t take long to simply sign a statement, she figured; then she’d go on with her afternoon. She had to work at the Emporium the next day, so any errands had to be done now.

But it seemed it wasn’t going to be so simple. Instead of being given her statement to sign at the reception desk, she was escorted back to an interview room and deposited there. When she asked what she was waiting for, the officer said that Detective Christian had a couple more questions for her. She was given a clipboard with some departmental paper, in case she wanted to write an amendment to her statement with things she had forgotten about the time surrounding the murder.

Should she tell them where Johnny Stanko was? As much as she wanted to, it seemed like a betrayal of Valetta’s trust. She tapped the pen on the paper and thought. She had lots of questions but no real new information.

The detective finally came in and sat down opposite her, but was reading a paper while he did so. He finally looked up. “Hello, Ms. Leighton. How are you today?”

Detective Christian had retreated from
Jaymie
to
Ms. Leighton
. Her stomach twisted into a queasy knot as she got a bad feeling about the interview. “I’m fine.”

“We asked you to come in today to answer a few more questions about July Fourth and the murder of Kathy Cooper.”

“Uh, no, I came in today to sign my statement.”

“And to answer a few more questions.”

“Okay. I’ve tried to think about anything more I know, but nothing is coming to mind.”

He scanned down a sheet he had in his hand and looked back up. “You told us you had a run-in with the victim a few hours before her murder, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“But according to one witness, you’ve omitted a fairly important bit of information.” His gray eyes were cold. “We have a signed statement that you warned the victim.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Do you recall saying to the victim that she had better shut her mouth, or you would make her sorry?”

Jaymie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What exactly had she said, and who would have told the police about it? “I
might
have said…I don’t know, something like that. Who told you about that?”

“That doesn’t matter. Did you say it? You must have been very angry; the victim had just insulted you in front of the man you’re dating and implied that you were only dating him for his money. So how angry
were
you?”

“This is ridiculous,” Jaymie said, her cheeks flaming. “Yes, Kathy insulted me in front of Daniel, and it irritated me. It was rude!
And
untrue. And I said something, but I don’t think it was quite
that
ominous.” Who would have told the police? Who had the most to gain from making her look bad?

He sat and watched her.

It came to her in that moment that it had to be Craig Cooper who’d told the police what she said, making it sound much worse than it was. He had just been approaching, and must have heard her. She thought for a moment, her temper cooling, then said, “I told Kathy she shouldn’t say such nasty things to me or she’d be sorry. I don’t know what I meant, but I have never in my life even hit another person, much less murdered someone. Would you like me to add that to my statement?”

“If you would. Exactly how you remember it, please.” He glanced up near the ceiling.

They must be on video. She had seen enough cop shows to know about that. Restraining her urge to poke her tongue out at the camera, she read her statement through, made the amendment and signed it, then stood. If she was going to tell them about Johnny Stanko, she should do it now.

“Anything you want to add?”

She hesitated. “No.” It wasn’t turning in Johnny Stanko that would have bothered her, but the betrayal of the trust Valetta put in her. She’d give him some time to go to the police, then press Valetta, make her see that Stanko may well have snapped and killed Kathy. It made her uneasy to leave him free, but she would give him twenty-four hours. “No, I’m done. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know.”

She headed away from the police station and directly to Craig and Kathy’s home, a modern rambler in the newer section of Queensville. She may not have spent time with them socially, but she did know exactly where they lived, and, grieving widower or not, she was going to tell Craig to stop trying to implicate her. If that’s indeed what he was doing, was it to turn investigators away from examining his relationship with his wife? Why would he have killed her? It had always appeared to be Craig and Kathy against the world. Jaymie knocked on the door.

A woman about Jaymie’s age opened the door. She was slim, with tri-colored, asymmetrical razor-cut hair, the bold slash of pink on one side a startling contrast to the white and black streaks of the rest of it. She wore a ripped long T-shirt and skinny jeans. “Yeah?” she said, staring at Jaymie curiously.

“Uh, is Craig home?”

“No. Who are you?”

“Jaymie Leighton. I think you might have met my sister, Rebecca Leighton Burke, yesterday when she brought some food over?”

“Your sister? She’s a lot older than you, yeah?”

This must be Chloe Cooper, Craig’s sister, the hairdresser from Wolverhampton. Jaymie was curious about why Chloe disliked Kathy so much that even Becca caught on. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out. “She had to go back to Canada, but she asked me to drop in and see if Craig needed anything, any help with arrangements, any errands run. He
has
to be suffering. And you, too! You must miss your sister-in-law.”

Chloe laughed. “That’s funny, me missing Kathy. Wanna know the truth?”

Jaymie waited; was Chloe going to trash her late sister-in-law?

“I’m bored out of my mind. I’m staying here to help Craig, but then he screws off and leaves me alone. You want to come in?” She stepped back and held the door open.

“Sure.” Jaymie entered, and Chloe slammed the door behind her. “Uh, does anyone know when the service is going to be, Chloe?”

“The cops haven’t released the body to the funeral home yet, so it’s anyone’s guess. If they hold on to her too long, Craig’s gonna have a memorial service, and then the funeral will be private.”

Jaymie followed her through the living room into the sunny kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast bar. She glanced around, imagining Kathy in this clean, bright house. The kitchen was decorated in white and yellow, cheery and modern, with white appliances, bare white countertops and blond wood cabinets. It was about as different from the Leighton kitchen as could be imagined.

Chloe offered her coffee and babbled about how she was missing work at the hair salon in Wolverhampton, but how she was going back in a few days. “You need a new hairstyle,” Chloe said, bluntly, plopping a mug in front of Jaymie without asking if she wanted milk or sugar.

“I what?”

“You need a new hairstyle. And highlights, at least. You’re what…late thirties?”

“Early thirties,” Jaymie said.

“That’s what I mean; you look older than you should. Your hair’s mousy. You need a hipper hairstyle.”

Like hers? “I don’t think—”

“Come in to A Tressful Time and I’ll give you a new do.”

“Sure,” Jaymie said, knowing she never would.

“Hey, that detective guy is a hottie, right?” Chloe said, leaning toward Jaymie over the breakfast bar with a wicked smile. “You’ve met him, right? The one who is questioning everyone? I felt like confessing just to have him grill me
gooood
!”

Startled, Jaymie said, “Confessing? You didn’t do it, though.”

“Of course not. I wasn’t anywhere near here. I was with some friends down at Cedar Point,” she said, naming the amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio. “But I’d love that guy, that Detective Zack, to lock me up and have his way with me over the interrogation table.” She stuck her hands out and mimicked handcuffs on her slim wrists.

“Sandusky…is that near Toledo?”

“Not really. Why?”

“I heard that Kathy and Craig were thinking of moving to Toledo. Is that true?”

“Nah. I heard something about that a while ago, but I think they’d given up on the idea.”

There was a knock at the front door, and Chloe bounded out of the room toward the sound. Jaymie heard voices as Craig’s sister talked to someone. The phone rang; after a few rings the machine clicked on, and Kathy’s voice filled the kitchen: “Hi. We can’t come to the phone right now. Leave a message after the beep.” It was so weird to hear her voice, knowing that she was gone.

Jaymie barely listened to the message, something about an appointment Kathy had missed at the Payne Institute—the unfortunately named local medical school—as she heard voices rise in the living room. She slipped off her stool and moved toward the door.

“You tell your effing brother that I want his effing lawyer off my back.” Kylie Hofstadter’s strident voice was filled with anger. “Kathy’s dead, and she’ll never get her hands on my son now, so they can just screw off.”

Ten