CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sunday, March 7


4:10 A.M.


Tom and Jill Schwann lived in a big house on Arrowhead Mountain. Reed had gone to school with Jill; they’d been in the same high school graduating class. He couldn’t imagine her getting pissed off enough to kill her husband, but what did he know? The brutality of the human animal continually surprised him.

He brought a couple uniformed deputies along with him, just in case he needed assistance.

Reed reached the front door, rang the bell. A dog started to bark, one of those high-pitched, yappy barks that brought to mind celebrities Paris Hilton and Britney Spears.

Jill answered the door looking totally wrung out. Marriage to an asshole had that effect; he’d seen it time and again. She wore a wrap robe, her feet were bare. Her blond hair had mostly come out of its chignon and hung in hanks around her face. Obviously she had been crying: her nose was red and mascara had created dark tracks down her cheeks. A small white dog growled and bared its teeth at him.

“Dan?” She shifted her gaze to the officers behind him and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve got some bad news, Jill. Can I come in?”

She scooped up the dog. “Pinot,” she admonished, moving aside, “shush, baby.”

Reed stepped into the foyer, the deputies behind him. He took in the area-the white carpeting, the marble foyer, the silk wall coverings-looking for a trail, smear or drop of blood. He knew the deputies behind him were doing the same.

“Maybe we should sit down?”

“You’re scaring me, Dan. What’s-”

“Tom’s dead, Jill. I’m sorry.”

For a split second her expression went totally blank, a moment later it lit with fury. “I get it. That son of a bitch. He put you up to this, didn’t he? To teach me a lesson. Prick.”

“Jill, that’s not why-”

“Save it, Danny. He thinks this is all right. That it’s okay for him to fuck anything that moves and I should take it because he pays the bills.” She strode to the large, open living room, dropped Pinot on the couch and swung back to face him. “Well, it’s not okay. I kicked his two-timing, drunk butt out of the car. Told him to get his latest piece of ass to give him a ride home. I don’t deserve this.”

“Jill,” he said quietly, “Tom’s dead. He was murdered.”

Several different emotions raced across her face. Shock and disbelief. Horror. She opened her mouth, then shut it. Her throat worked. The dog growled.

“This isn’t a setup?” He shook his head. Again she looked at the deputies, as if she needed further confirmation. “I left him just an hour or two ago.”

“Are you certain about the time?”

“No, I-” She brought a hand to her throat. Reed saw that it shook. “I was drinking. We argued… It’s all a blur now.”

“Why don’t you sit down?” She nodded but didn’t move. She swayed slightly, face ashen. He caught her elbow and led her to the couch. She sank onto it. Pinot hopped onto her lap.

“Can I get you some water?” he asked. “Anything else?”

She shook her head, threading her fingers in the animal’s silky fur. “Tom’s dead?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“How?” she asked. “Who?”

“We don’t know who. His throat was slit.”

“Oh my God!”

“Can we call someone for you?”

“My mother.”

He remembered Jill’s mother. Very involved in her daughter’s life. Ambitious for her. He wondered if she had known about her daughter’s marital troubles.

“I’ll have someone pick her up and bring her over. How’s that?”

She nodded, throat working. Reed instructed one of the deputies to call it in, then turned back to her. “While we talk, may my deputies take a look around? We’ll need to check your car as well.”

She looked surprised. “Look around? Here? Sure, but I… I don’t understan…” But then she did; the realization crossed her face. “You don’t think I had anything to do with his… death?”

“Of course not,” he said gently, taking a notebook and pen from his jacket pocket. “But it’s standard operating procedure. You were his wife. Maybe the last person to have seen him alive. Is it okay if they look around?”

She nodded and began to cry. Reed instructed the deputies to get started, found a box of tissues, then sat beside her, waiting, giving her time.

After several minutes had passed, she blew her nose, then looked at him. “You probably think I’m an idiot. Crying over a man who treated the dog with more respect than he did me.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Jill. Far from it.”

“I loved him.” She snatched another tissue from the box. “At least I did, once upon a time. Lately, I mostly hated his guts.”

Reed laid a hand on her arm. “Jill, anything you say can be held against you. You know that, right?”

“And I have a right to have a lawyer present. I know. I watch TV.”

“This isn’t television. It’s real.”

She laughed, the sound also equal parts sob and hiccup. “I have nothing to hide, Reed.” She curved her arms around her middle. “Thank God we didn’t have children. Thank God.”

“Jill, I need you to think carefully about the time. It’s important.” He paused to let his words sink in, then pressed on. “What time did you leave the party?”

“I don’t… I know it was after midnight. Because I remember looking at my watch and thinking it was Sunday already and mass wasn’t that far off. We left maybe a half hour after that.”

“And he was drunk?”

“Totally inebriated. Disgustingly sloppy.”

“What happened next?”

She looked away, then back, expression tight. “He was acting all sexed up in the car. Like, com’on, baby, pull over and do me. Give ‘Big Tom’ a honk.”

“A honk?”

“Blow job. I told him to blow himself.”

“That’s when you fought?”

“Oh yeah. We fought. I pulled off the road. Told him to get the fuck out. He was so drunk, I don’t think it occurred to him that I was the one who was driving.”

“Did anyone else see him get out of the car?”

“No.”

“There was no one else, no other vehicles, anywhere around?”

She shook her head. “I saw him on the phone as I pulled away. I figured he was calling his little whore.” She flushed, as if suddenly realizing who she was talking to.

He made a note. “Who is she? Do you know her name?”

“She works for him. At the winery.” She pulled another tissue from the box and balled it up in her fist. “It’s not about her. She’s just one of his many… indiscretions.”

“Do you know her name?” he asked again.

“Meri,” she whispered. “Like I said, she works at the winery.”

“After you kicked him out, did you make any calls?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“He was robbed. His wallet emptied, his watch and wedding ring taken. Did he have any other valuables on him, that you know of?”

She shook her head again as her mother arrived, sweeping into the room, the deputy trailing behind. Jill cried out and leaped to her feet and ran to her. “Mom, I can’t believe this happened!”

“My God, Jill! The deputies told me Tom-”

“He was murdered, Mom. Murdered!”

The tears flowed again. Reed left the women alone, using the opportunity to confer with the deputies: the search of the house and vehicles had turned up nothing, no blood, bloody clothing or evidence of a cleanup.

He also learned that Jill’s mother had been deeply asleep when the deputy called for her. Her live-in boyfriend had been in front of the TV, also asleep. Neither of them had been out that night. And both had been convincingly shocked and horrified by the news of Tom’s murder.

“Who could have done this?” Jill’s mother demanded, when Reed rejoined them. “How could this have happened here in Sonoma County?”

Reed figured she wouldn’t appreciate the truth-that crimes like this happened every day, here in Sonoma County and everywhere else, that this one only felt unique and impossible because it had touched her.

When he left a short time later, he acknowledged a sense that before it was all over, this case would personally touch many more in this small valley. And he sensed, also, that it was going to get ugly.

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