Kill the Competition (38 page)

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"Let's get started," Truett said, pulling a swivel chair to the end of the boardroom table. Libby sat to his right, and Rosemary to his left. Next to Rosemary sat Carole, then Detective Salyers. Across from Salyers sat Lieutenant Alexander. Belinda was wedged between him and Libby. The unknown woman sat away from the group, near the other end of the table. Everyone looked as if they wanted to be elsewhere.

"I'd like to introduce Ms. Greer, Fulton County assistant district attorney. Ms. Greer is here as an observer."

Ms. Greer nodded solemnly.

Belinda was quivering in her Aerosoles. A D.A.'s presence could not be a good thing. She had convinced herself that Jim Newberry had murdered Margo... eliminating him as a suspect tore the lid off an entire barrel of worms.

"Lieutenant Alexander has been on the case from the beginning, so we asked him to be here out of professional courtesy."

Detective Salyers's tiny smirk didn't go unnoticed by Belinda. The comfort she took from Wade's dominating presence next to her was negated by the fact that he was privy to so many nooks and crannies of her life—and before this interview ended, was likely to discover more.

Truett slurped coffee from a Styrofoam cup and pushed a button on a tape recorder at his elbow. He recited the date and time and those present. "First, let me say that you ladies are here voluntarily and are not under arrest. You may refuse to answer questions at any time, and you may request an attorney at any time."

An attorney? How about her mommy?

"Ladies, I got a dead woman in a trunk, and not a whole hell of a lot of answers." Truett gave them a tight smile. "And the polygraph exams indicate that all of you are hiding something about the circumstances surrounding the murder."

Belinda's heart pounded in her ears.

"Since all of you had access to the car where the body was found, I thought it would be best if we sat down and talked through Monday's events again, nice and slow like." He glanced all around, pausing a few seconds on each of them. "Now, then—Ms. Hennessey, you drove the carpool Monday, with Ms. Janes and Ms. Marchand."

"Yes."

"Ms. Burchett, you drove separately."

"That's correct."

"We'll get back to that later."

Rosemary blanched but remained silent.

"Ms. Hennessey, you said you parked your car on the eighth floor. Did you move your car during the course of the day?"

"No."

"I understand that in the afternoon, you were called to Margo Campbell's office for a performance evaluation."

"Yes."

"And your evaluation went well. You had been offered the CFO position?"

When the other women looked her way, she squirmed. "Yes. Margo said she would make the announcement when she returned from vacation."

"But before you left her office, Jim Newberry forced his way in."

"Yes."

"After Newberry was taken away, then what?"

Belinda shrugged. "I left Margo's office, made a few phone calls."

"Did you run into Libby Janes in the ladies' room?"

Her memory clicked. "Yes."

He looked at his notes. "A witness said she went into the ladies' room around 4:00 and that you and Ms. Janes were in the same stall. She recognized your shoes."

She looked at Libby, her cheeks flaming. Libby's were pinker than usual, too.

"I was upset about something," Libby said, "and Belinda was being a friend."

"What were you upset about?" Detective Salyers asked.

"My husband and I had been arguing about finances," Libby said quickly.

Belinda bit into her lower lip. From what she remembered, Libby had been upset about her evaluation, but she supposed it all led back to the fact that her husband was leaning on her about bringing in more money.

Truett turned to her. "Ms. Hennessey, tell us again what happened at the end of the day."

"I wanted to talk to Margo about something before she left for vacation, so I asked Libby if she would drive home and let me pick up my car later, and she agreed."

He looked down at his notes. "Ms. Janes, you stated that Ms. Hennessey seemed 'flustered' at the time."

"I wasn't flustered," Belinda said with a frown.

"You were shaking like a dog's hind leg," Libby declared softly.

That was vivid.

Truett cocked an eyebrow. "It's time to tell us, Ms. Hennessey, what was so important that you had to talk to Ms. Campbell."

Belinda squirmed. "It's confidential. I must discuss it with Mr. Archer first."

His eyes narrowed. "As long as we can sit in."

"F-fine."

"So skip to the part where you were getting ready to leave. You said Ms. Campbell received a phone call. An internal call, you could tell by the ring."

"That's right, although I don't know who it was. I walked out of her office and left by the back stairs, and fell. I went to the lounge to clean up, and you know what happened from there."

"You ran into Julian Hardeman."

"Yes."

"We talked to Julian Hardeman before he left town," Detective Salyers said. "He said you were agitated when he saw you."

Surprise and anger barbed through her that Julian would say something to implicate her further—although she'd done a good job of implicating herself all by her lonesome. "I had just taken a bad spill, so perhaps I was jittery."

"What is the nature of your relationship with Mr. Hardeman?"

Not here.
"I told you—we're acquaintances."

"That's not what he said."

Next to her, Wade shifted in his chair. Belinda set her jaw. "We had lunch twice."

"And a sexual encounter in the sauna in the bottom floor of this building."

This could only be better if her mother were here. "I don't see what any of this has to do with the murder."

"Because you told your friends here that Ms. Campbell might have been jealous over your relationship with Julian."

She glanced around the table, "I didn't say that."

"What Belinda said," piped in Carole in a squeaky voice, "was that Margo saw her in the gym with Julian and made a snide remark."

"Regarding Julian Hardeman's taste in women?"

Carole nodded.

Salyers tapped her pen on the notepad in front of her. "Didn't that make you angry, Ms. Hennessey?"

"No, because I knew it was Margo's nature to be cutting and because I wasn't as involved with Julian Hardeman as she assumed."

Truett grunted. "Ms. Campbell wasn't a very nice person, was she?"

Belinda decided to let that one go unanswered.

"Ms. Janes," he said, turning in his chair, "let's get back to you. Why didn't you and Ms. Marchand simply wait Monday afternoon until Ms. Hennessey had finished her discussion with Ms. Campbell so you could all ride home together?"

Libby splayed her manicured hands. "Belinda said she needed to meet with Margo and told us to go on. I assumed it was going to take a while."

"And you had something planned you wanted to do?"

Libby looked at Belinda with a flash of accusation. "Yes."

"What was it, exactly?"

Libby's mouth tightened. "Carole and I were concerned about Rosemary." She gave Rosemary an apologetic look. "We were afraid you were sick and not telling us, so... we were going to follow you to your appointment."

Rosemary's eyes widened. "Follow me?"

"But we didn't get the chance. Carole was late getting to the car—"

"I was only a little late," Carole interjected, wagging her finger. "But the car wasn't where it had been parked, I waited there for maybe twenty minutes, then Libby drives up, saying she'd been waiting for me on the bottom floor."

Truett leveled his gaze on Libby. "Is that true, Ms. Janes?"

Libby fidgeted. "I figured I had time to drive to Bloomingdale's for a quick look around. They're having a big sale," she added in her defense.

"Did you buy anything?"

She didn't answer.

"We're going to check, Ms. Janes."

"A pillow," she whispered. "Goose down, thirty percent off."

Belinda's mouth went dry.

"Why buy only one pillow?" Salyers asked. "Why not a set?"

"It was for a daybed in our bonus room."

"And I assume you can produce that pillow?"

Libby wrung her hands. "I promised my husband I would stop spending so much money. I was so ashamed of myself, I threw the pillow in a Dumpster at the mall before I came back to pick up Carole."

The detectives exchanged disbelieving glances.

"When you returned to the parking garage," Truett said, "Ms. Burchett had already left?"

Libby nodded.

"Ms. Burchett, what time did you leave the parking garage?"

"Around 6:00."

"Where did you go?"

She pursed her mouth, as if she were physically trapping the words.

"Does it have anything to do with your probation?"

Belinda's gut clenched. Libby and Carole looked shocked.

"Ms. Burchett?" he repeated.

"Yes," she said softly.

"For everyone's information, Ms. Burchett here is on probation for a count of involuntary manslaughter for killing her husband, Stanley Burchett."

"I didn't kill him," she murmured, her eyes shimmering.

"The M.E.'s report says he was smothered with a pillow."

"He rolled over and was too weak to lift his head," Rosemary said. "It was a blessing."

"You were supposed to be watching him."

"I left the room to prepare a bath for him. When I came back, he was already gone."

"You accepted probation."

"To relieve some of my own guilt for not being there," she whispered. "And I've done everything I've been asked to do, including seeing a therapist regularly."

Carole reached over to squeeze the older woman's hand. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"There was no point," she said.

"Maybe you didn't tell anyone because you were afraid you'd lose your job," Truett said.

Rosemary's mouth tightened, but she remained silent.

"Did Ms. Campbell know about the probation, Ms. Burchett?"

Rosemary hesitated, then nodded.

"When did she find out?"

"I... don't know."

"When did she first bring it to your attention that she knew?"

"Monday, during my performance evaluation."

Belinda's breath caught.

"Did she fire you?" Truett pressed.

"No." Rosemary spoke through clenched teeth. "That would have been too quick for Margo, too easy. Better to keep me around to hold it over my head."

"Blackmail?"

"Not per se."

"Ms. Burchett, Ms. Marchard mentioned that you use a lumbar cushion when you ride in a car."

Rosemary cut her gaze to Carole, then back. "That's correct."

"Where is that cushion?"

"Monday morning, when it was raining, I dropped it in the mud. It seemed easier to buy a new one than to try to save it, so I threw it away."

"Monday, the day Ms. Campbell was smothered, possibly with a pillow or some other soft object."

Rosemary's tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. "Coincidence."

Truett emitted a humorless laugh and angled his coffee cup in Carole's direction. "While we're on coincidences, Ms. Marchand, how's married life?"

Carole's chin dipped. "Fine."

"Your husband, Gustav Marchand, he's just a couple of months away from receiving his green card, isn't he?"

Carole nodded.

"Ms. Marchand, we checked Ms. Campbell's phone records, and guess what we found."

The blood drained from Carole's cheeks. "I don't know."

"Don't you? Margo Campbell called the INS office last Friday and had a conversation with a Mr. Penley. Do you know the topic of that conversation?"

Carole was silent.

Truett expelled a long-suffering sigh. "Mr. Penley told me that Ms. Campbell informed him that your marriage to Mr. Marchand was a farce, that you had done this twice before. Mr. Penley said he planned to talk to Ms. Campbell when she returned from vacation."

Carole had apparently been struck mute. Belinda's mind reeled at the revelations.

"And you know what else?" Truett leaned forward to rest his elbows on the edge of the table. "We were able to trace that call Ms. Hennessey told us Ms. Campbell received just before she left—it came from the mailroom."

Belinda's heart clenched.

Carole seemed to sway, then she recovered. "I
did
call Margo, because I had a confidential envelope for her. She told me to bring it up, that's one of the reasons I was late getting to the parking garage."