Blood Vines

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Tuesday, March 16

9:20 P.M.

Half a dozen people gathered around the video monitor, watching the interview in progress. They’d been going at Alex for some time and she looked a hairbreadth from falling apart.

When they’d arrived at the Barn, the deputy had gotten Alex set up in an interview room. Reed had connected with his sergeant, explained the situation and recused himself from the case. Unfortunately, because of the way current events crisscrossed and possibly linked to Alex, it left a new detective with a whole lot to familiarize himself with. Mac had not been happy about it.

Reed glanced at the sergeant now; he was frowning. “Her story hasn’t altered, Mac. Not from when she first relayed it to me.”

The assistant D.A. agreed. “You know the drill, boys, charge or release.”

“Okay,” Lieutenant Torres said, “let’s get Detective Saacks back in here.” While Mac retrieved the detective from the interview room, the lieutenant went on, “What’ve we got, Team? Lay it all out there.”

Tanner began. Mac and Saacks slipped into the room. “We’ve got a motive. She admits she was angry with him.”

“Spa employees confirmed. They overheard her leaving a nasty message for someone-”

“Clarkson, the deceased.”

“We’ve got that.” Tanner replayed it: “Dammit, Tim! Pick up! I can’t believe you would do thi-”

“That’s it, she didn’t finish,” Tanner said. “My guess is that’s when the spa attendants came in and busted her.”

“She sounded pretty upset.” Lieutenant Torres looked at the assistant D.A. “She left in a huff, before she’d even finished her prepaid services.”

“But she didn’t threaten him in any way,” Reed murmured. “And by her own account, she was angry. She didn’t try to hide that.”

Tanner went on. “And depending on the timeline, we’ve got opportunity.”

Detective Saacks jumped in. “We’re working on establishing a firm timeline.”

Bob Ware, the Coroner’s detective, spoke up. “He hadn’t been dead long when we got there. Lividity was under way, but just under way, and rigor mortis hadn’t even started. By the time I got him to the morgue, body temperature had only dropped by three degrees. Factoring in transporting the body and investigative time, that doesn’t leave a lot of wiggle room.”

The D.A. agreed. “We can make that stick. No doubt.”

Saacks spoke up again. “A neighbor confirmed her version of events. He saw her on her porch about four forty-five P.M. Drinking wine. They didn’t speak. He heard her scream a short time later and was dialing 911 when he heard the first responders’ sirens.”

“Did he happen to notice, was she covered in blood?”

That brought a chuckle from the group.

Cal tapped on the closed door, then poked his head inside. “Tanner, Reed, a moment, please.”

They excused themselves and met him out in the hall. “What’s up?” Tanner asked.

“Thought you’d be interested.” He handed them each a pair of Latex gloves. While they fitted them on, he continued, “Found this in the suspect’s bedroom. It’s a list of all the crazy shit that’s happened since she arrived in Sonoma.”

He handed the yellow legal tablet to Tanner. “She notes having an alibi for one item.” He looked at Reed. “Sorry, man.”

“Not your issue, Cal. But thanks.”

He and Tanner reviewed the list. Reed stopped on the item that read: Max’s house torched. Alibi/Reed. His stomach sank. That didn’t look good.

“What’s this?” Tanner asked. She tapped the very last item on the list: “Remember scrawled in lipstick on bathroom mirror. Stain on hand and sheets.”

Another bizarre occurrence on Alex’s doorstep. “First I heard of it,” he said.

“In her statement, she never mentioned the list or this ‘Remember’ thing.”

“She’s had a little on her mind.”

Tanner narrowed her eyes. “Watch it, Detective, your loyalties are showing.”

“Playing devil’s advocate. Look, the list makes sense. She said she called her ex-husband to help her put everything that was happening in perspective. Looks to me like she was trying to put it in perspective on her own first.”

“Let’s let the team get a look at it.”

They did, and after the group had pored over it, discussion resumed. “It’s an incomplete list,” the D.A. said. “Neither Schwann’s nor Clarkson’s murder is noted.”

The lieutenant agreed. “In my opinion this supports her version of events.”

Mac spoke up. “I’m bothered by her mentioning her own alibi. That’s just off.”

The D.A. looked at Saacks. “How reliable is the neighbor who saw her on her porch?”

“Seemed lucid. Sixtyish. Wearing glasses.”

The D.A. took over. “We’ve got motive. And depending on our timeline, we’ve got opportunity. What about evidence?”

“Processed the scene,” Tanner said. “Collected a ton of blood samples, prints and other miscellaneous pieces of physical evidence. It’ll be awhile before we get results back; however, what we do have is a physical scene with no overt evidence of anyone’s presence besides the deceased’s and suspect’s. We also have a suspect well covered with the victim’s blood and a handprint near the body that she confirmed is probably hers.”

Saacks added, “And we have the weapon, high-quality, stainless steel, two-gauge chopsticks.”

“Prints on them?” Lieutenant Torres asked.

“Wiped.”

Reed frowned. “That’s interesting. Why would she carefully wipe the weapon and leave a big bloody handprint on the floor?”

“He has a point,” the D.A. agreed. “I don’t like the neighbor. Without that witness, I’d go for it right now. But the picture of Clarkson calmly sitting on the front porch, enjoying a glass of wine, blows it for me. And I strongly suspect for a jury as well.” She turned to Reed. “Any chance she’ll disappear? You have a relationship with her, what do you think?”

They all looked at him. It was a damn awkward position to be in. Either way, he was putting himself on the line. “She’s not going anywhere.”

“She hasn’t lawyered up yet, but will. At any moment is my guess and that’ll just prolong this. We could keep her forty-eight hours, but if she’s not a flight risk, why force her hand?”

The lieutenant looked at him. “I want you to take another crack at her, Reed. Bring the list in. She trusts you. Use that to see if you can get us anything else.”

He nodded and exited the room. In the hall, his cell vibrated. “Reed here.”

“Dan, thank God! It’s Rachel. What the hell’s going on?”

“I can’t talk now.”

“I drove by Alex’s… I saw a body being brought out-”

“I really can’t tal-”

“Is it Alex?” Her voice rose, taking on a hysterical edge. “Is she okay? No one will tell me anything!”

“She’s fine,” he said, glancing at his watch, aware of the team in the other room waiting for him. “She’s here. We’re questioning her.”

“Then who-”

“Her ex-husband.”

“Oh my God! I’m coming down there-”

“No! There’s nothing you can do. I have to go, Rachel.”

He ended the called and entered the interview room. He steeled himself for his first look at Alex-and for what her response to him would be. The truth was, he was afraid he would give himself away.

She didn’t kill Clarkson. The evidence might be damning, but his gut said otherwise. And he still trusted his gut-foolish or not. Which was why, rightly, he was off the case.

“Hello, Alex,” he said softly.

She looked up, her immediate expression of relief becoming one of hurt. “How could you think I did this?” she asked, voice cracking. “How could any of you? Forget the fact that I could never do that to anyone, let alone someone I loved-”

She fisted her fingers, as if fighting for strength. “Forget all that and consider that I waited all my life to learn something about who my father is, and you all think I might have killed the one person who knew something about him?”

He crossed to the table and sat in the chair across from hers. “No, Alex, I don’t think you killed your ex-husband.” His lieutenant and the others watching would think he was working her. Problem was, he meant it. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“I am now.”

He imagined the groans and guffaws in the viewing room at that. He leaned slightly toward her. “I need to find out who did kill him. And I want to make certain that he doesn’t hurt you. To do that, I need your help.”

She nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Why are they letting you talk to me?”

Tough question. He went for partial honesty. “Because they know, if anyone can help, it’s me. And frankly, you look like you’ve had it.”

“I’m so tired.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe Tim’s dead. It’s like a bad dream. All of it. Everything that’s happened since I got here.”

“There’s been a lot of bizarre stuff going on, and it all seems to revolve around you.” He laid the legal tablet on the table between them. “I need you to tell me about this.”

She stared at it, paling. “It’s a list.”

“Yes. Why’d you make it?”

She swallowed audibly. “I was trying to get a grip on what was happening. You know, to put it all together.”

“I get that,” he said. “But what about this-Max’s house torched. Alibi/Reed?”

“Because we were together. I knew I couldn’t be responsible for doing that.”

He cocked his head frowning. “But you worried you were responsible for the others?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Because of the word on the mirror.”

“Remember,” he said.

“Yes.” She cleared her throat. “I awakened that Monday, suddenly. I thought someone had been in my house. But then it was so… quiet. I figured another nightmare had awakened me.”

“Another nightmare?”

“I’ve always had them, but lately… they’ve been bad. It’s this place, I think.” She leaned toward him, expression pleading. “I think something bad happened to me… I don’t know what-So I struggled to remember, concentrated on trying to…

“Suddenly this vision filled my head. Robed men holding me down. I knew I had to run and did. I ran to the bathroom. That’s when I saw it.”

“Remember written on the bathroom mirror?”

She nodded. “The window was open, I thought someone had climbed in, but-”

“What, Alex?”

“My hands. They were stained with the lipstick. It scared me. I wondered if I could have written that myself and not… remember doing it. That’s why I called Tim. I knew he could help me figure it out.”

“Why didn’t you call me, Alex?”

“Because… I didn’t want you… to think I was… crazy.”

“What did Tim think?”

“That someone was messing with me. He was going to help-” She bit that back and leaned forward, eyes widening. “That last call from Tim, why’d he make it?”

“I don’t follow.”

“He didn’t expect me to answer. He knows spa rules, he’s had more experience with them than I have. He even said he was surprised when I answered, that he thought he would leave me a voice mail.”

“Okay, go on.”

“He called to tell me about my dad. That’s all he said.” She leaned forward. “Why, Reed? Why then?”

“You tell me.”

“My mother told him my father was a really bad man. That she left Sonoma to protect me. And that she blamed him for what happened to Dylan.”

“Whoa, wait. Did she accuse your father of harming Dylan Sommer?”

“I don’t know for sure.” She dragged a hand through her hair. “We never got a chance to talk further.”

“So, what are you saying, Alex?”

“She didn’t care if they told lies about her. If they reviled her after she left.”

Reed thought of his father, his story about Patsy. And of their conversation the night before, the way his father had acted. The way he had effortlessly changed personas.

At his silence, Alex added, “The BOV, Reed. That story about her. Maybe he killed Tim.”

“He, who?”

“My dad. Maybe he’s behind it all.” Her voice rose. “Maybe they did it. Maybe they took Dylan, too! The real BOV. Whoever they are.” She held out a hand, pleading. “Don’t you see. It makes sense.”

He gazed at her, heart sinking. She was irrational. “No, Alex. It doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry.”

He glanced up at the camera with a small shake of his head, then stood. “I’m going to see what I can do about getting you out of here. Hold tight a little longer.”

She reached out and caught his hand. “I’m right about this.” She lifted her chin. “I know I am.”

He opened his mouth to reason with her, then said instead, “We’ll figure this out. Whoever did this, we’ll get him.”