Helpless

court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present now and during any future questioning.”

Tom made sure Murphy could see his displeasure. “Sure. I give up the right.”

“Good. Good. Thanks. Sorry about that. I know it’s awkward.”

“Yeah. It sort of is.”

“So, tell me, how’s Jill?”

The mere mention of Jill made Tom ache. He had pleaded with her to come and stay with him in Westbrook, but Jill insisted that wouldn’t be an option.

“I need to be with people who really know me and understand me,” she had said to him through her tears.

“She’s doing as well as can be expected,” Tom said to Murphy. “Right now she’s staying with Cathleen Wells and Lindsey. They’ve put her up in the guest room. A doctor from the clinic came by to check on her, and he gave Jill a sedative to help her sleep. She was sleeping when I left there to come here.”

“Were you able to make it over to the medical examiner’s office to make the official identification?” Murphy asked.

“Yeah. That’s all taken care of,” Tom said, though his voice didn’t reveal how much the experience had shaken him. He’d seen his fair share of dead bodies as a SEAL, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing the mother of his daughter lying lifeless on a steel table. His high school sweetheart dead, a thin green sheet hiding her nakedness.

Tom had seen the two wounds to her head: the one to her right temple, where police believed she had hit a rock, and the other, more suspicious one on the left side, where something else had struck her. Kelly’s once lustrous blond hair was matted down and dark. Her lips were a disturbing shade of blue. The skin didn’t look like it fit her bones anymore.

Death never looked pretty.

Murphy opened the file in front of him. “Well then,” he began, “why don’t we start with the last time you saw Kelly?”

Tom didn’t have to think hard to answer that one. He almost never saw Kelly. She never came to any of Jill’s practices or games and made it quite clear to his daughter that she stayed away intentionally to avoid seeing Tom.

“Two weeks ago,” Tom said. “At Johnny Rockets.”

“The place on one-forty?”

“Yeah. That’s the place.”

“What were you doing there?”

“Having my twice-a-month dinner with Jill. Kelly would drive her there, drop her off, and then come back forty minutes later to pick her up.”

“Does Jill ever go to your place in Westbrook?” Murphy didn’t bother referring to any notes. Troubling, thought Tom, that he was so well versed about his life.

“She hasn’t been over to my house in about a year. There was some tension around that.”

“Tension?”

“Jill didn’t want to spend every other weekend with me, which was my court-ordered visitation right.”

“You two don’t get along?”

“I thought this was about Kelly,” said Tom.

“Just compiling a complete picture here.”

“It was interfering with her social life and extracurricular activities,” Tom explained. “So I made a compromise, and we agreed to once-a-month sleepovers and twice-a-month dinners. That had worked fine up until last year. Kids get older. They get busier. Divorce sucks. What can I say?”

“Not married myself,” Murphy said, “but I can imagine.”

Not this you can’t, Tom thought, but he didn’t feel like going into Kelly’s long- running campaign to discredit him in his daughter’s eyes.

“So, the last time you saw Kelly was two weeks ago?”

“That’s right.”

“Do you know when Jill saw her last?”

“I’m guessing this morning,” Tom said. “Jill’s got a job this summer working at Lull Farm. She’s there Monday through Friday, eight until four. Then she comes to soccer practice after that.”

“First game of the season is coming up soon, huh?”

“Two weeks from today.”

“Going for what? Your third state title in a row?”

“Fourth,” Tom said. “But I don’t think now is an appropriate time to be talking sports.”

“No, of course not,” Murphy agreed. “Perhaps it would be more appropriate to discuss some of the conversations I’ve had with Kelly’s neighbors. They were pretty quick to point out to me that you two were not on the friendliest of terms.”

Why were you talking about me at all? Tom wondered. “We had our differences.”

“Would you characterize your relationship as hostile?”

“Are you trying to imply that I had something to do with Kelly’s murder?”

“I’m not implying anything, Tom,” Murphy said. “Just asking questions. But, since you’ve brought it up, where were you before soccer practice today?”

“I was home. Working on my deck.”

“Anybody with you? Anybody who could verify your whereabouts?”

“No. I was alone.”

“Girlfriend? Wife?”

“No to both.”

“And you say you were at home all day?”

“No,” Tom said. “I went to Home Depot for some supplies. I ran out of nails.”

“Do you have a receipt?”

Tom didn’t bother looking through his wallet. He never saved them. “No.”

“How’d you pay?”

“Cash,” Tom said.

Too bad for you, said Murphy’s face. “Do you remember what you were wearing?”

“T-shirt and my Red Sox hat.”

“Time?”

“Must have been around three in the afternoon. I drove right to practice from there.”

“About how far a drive is it to that Home Depot, would you say? From your place first, and then from Home Depot to Shilo.”

“Forty minutes from my place,” Tom said. “Westbrook isn’t close to any shopping. Then it’s another hour and change to Shilo from there.”

Tom could almost see Murphy running calculations in his head. “Did you and Kelly have any recent fights?” he asked.

“No.”

Murphy grimaced a little. “No fights over alimony? Jill? Past resentment because of that nasty custody battle you had?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Tom asked.

“Relax. I’m just getting a complete picture, like I said. I had your court records pulled, and I’m curious if there was any lingering tension between you and Kelly. Seemed like it was a pretty contentious custody battle after the divorce.”

“Brendan, this isn’t high school anymore,” Tom said. “I hope you’re not looking at me as a suspect because we didn’t get along back then.”

“That wouldn’t be very professional of me,” Murphy said. “Besides, I never said you were a suspect.”

“That’s because you didn’t have to,” Tom said. “But since you’ve brought up the past, I guess you should