“And?” Reggie bit out the word with barely suppressed rage.
“And he might have reacted physically.” Sergeant Beal softened her voice and leaned forward. “He might have tried to attack you. If that were the case, and you fought back, it would be self-defense.”
Reggie sat perfectly still. Her face drained of color. Her eyes, however, did not. They blazed with unbridled fury. “How dare you! How dare you! You think I killed him! I loved that man. I would never kill him.” My stomach twisted in anticipation of something terrible. Reggie’s temper was not something you wanted to see. Frances apparently agreed with my assessment, because she immediately spoke up.
“Reggie, calm down. This is silly. No one thinks you had anything to do with Michael’s death. Besides, you couldn’t have. You said you broke up with him right after the fireworks and then went to bed.”
Sergeant Beal turned to Frances, as Reggie tried to get her emotions back under control. “And why does this mean that Ms. Ames had nothing to do with Mr. Barrow’s death?”
“Because Michael was alive and well long after the fireworks ended. I saw him myself.”
“And where was this?” Sergeant Beal asked with an edge in her voice.
“Down by the docks. With Ann,” Frances replied.
Sergeant Beal’s eyes swung toward Ann. “Really? Well, that
Ann tried to speak but couldn’t seem to find the words. “I…” was all she got out. I moved over and crouched next to where she sat. Taking her hand, I said quietly, “Ann, it’s got to come sometime.”
Ann looked at me and nodded. Looking back at the room, I saw that Frances looked confused and Reggie curious. Only Joe seemed to sense Ann’s deep level of disgust and discomfort. The words still stuck in her throat, so I said what she couldn’t.
“Michael came down to the dock after Joe left and I’d headed for bed. He talked to her a bit about her plans for school, and then he … he told Ann that he was in love with her.” Frances gasped in horror at this. Reggie didn’t move, her face pale with surprise or fury. “When Ann rebuffed him, he…” I paused and looked to Ann, unsure how to continue.
Taking a deep breath she said, “He attacked me. He tried to…” The words stuck in her throat. Ann wrapped her arms around herself. “He attacked me,” she repeated. “He … he caught me by surprise, but once I realized what was happening … well, I fought as hard as I could.”
Joe’s face was like granite and he gripped the arms of his chair. “Did he…?”
Ann shook her head. “No, I stopped him.” I tried to catch Ann’s eye and caution her to stop, but she wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were firmly fastened on Joe. “I pushed him away,” she continued, saying the words I feared she’d say. “Michael was so drunk that he lost his balance and fell back. I ran like hell for the house and didn’t stop until I got to my room.” Joe relaxed slightly, but his expression was still murderous. I thought once again that it was a good thing Michael was already dead.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Reggie asked, her eyes wide with horror and shock.
“I was going to,” said Ann. “But then I guess I wanted to pretend it never happened. In the morning Michael was gone and you announced that you’d ended things with him. Then we found out about the embezzlement and it seemed pretty clear that he was out of our lives forever. It was hard enough for you already. I couldn’t see how telling you what he’d done to me would help.”
“Oh, my God, Ann, you poor thing!” cried Frances.
Reggie crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Ann, hugging her tight. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. But why didn’t you tell me?”
“You’d been hurt enough,” Ann said. “I didn’t want to add to it.”
“Oh, Ann. How horrible. I had no idea!”
“It’s okay. How could you have?”
Reggie shook her head sadly. “I don’t know … I just somehow feel responsible. I’m so sorry.”
Ann grabbed Reggie’s hands. “Don’t be. It’s over. I’m fine now. But I’m sorry you had to find out. He hurt a lot of people in his life.”
“Well, at least he can’t hurt either of us anymore,” said Reggie.
“Amen to that,” said Frances.
I would have felt much better about this little family catharsis if it hadn’t been for the way Sergeant Beal gazed at Ann like a hungry cat eyeing a trapped mouse.
Chapter 12
A woman, especially if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.
“So I take it you fought back against Michael when he attacked you?” Detective Beal said blandly. Joe blanched at her words. However, if Sergeant Beal noticed, she ignored it.
Ann nodded, not picking up on Sergeant Beal’s real meaning. “Yes, I told you. I pushed him back and ran for the house.”
“You must have pushed him pretty hard for him to fall back,” Sergeant Beal said.
Ann finally realized where Sergeant Beal was taking the conversation. Her eyes widened. “I pushed him from me and yes, he fell back, but he wasn’t hurt. He was just drunk and I took him by surprise.”
“By your own account, you just said that you pushed him off of you hard enough that he fell down and that you ran for the house and didn’t look back. How do you know he wasn’t hurt?”
“Because I was there. I saw him fall. It wasn’t the kind of fall that injures people.”
“You’d be surprised the damage a simple bop to the head can produce,” Sergeant Beal continued.
Next to her, Joe said, “Erica…”
“Erica” held up her hand to stop him. “I understand your reluctance to see someone you were once … friends with come under scrutiny like this, Detective. And I know you would hate for it to seem that you were biased in this investigation. But the fact remains that we have a dead man. A dead man who this woman claims she attacked.”
Ann’s jaw dropped open. So did most every one else’s, for that matter.
“Now wait a damn minute!” cried Miles. “She did not say that she ‘attacked’ Michael. She said that she pushed him off of her and he fell back! I don’t know how you got to be a police officer if that’s how you interpret facts. Any fool can see that Ann not only didn’t kill Michael but that she simply didn’t have the strength to do him any real harm. Michael was a big man. Ann is a petite woman. Her pushing him couldn’t have done any real damage.”
“Oh, I would agree with you there. In fact, I don’t see how he could have fallen if it was just a push,” said Sergeant Beal.
“What the hell does that mean?” snapped Ann.
“It means that you were scared and probably mad. Furious, even. Who wouldn’t be? He’s your sister’s fiancé—practically part of the family—and he’s attacking you? No one would blame you if you, let’s say, picked up a tree branch or a log and bashed the guy’s head in,” Sergeant Beal said evenly.
Ann opened her mouth, but it was Miles who spoke. “Don’t say a word, Ann. Not one more damn word. Not until we’ve gotten you a lawyer. This interview is over.” He stood up and marched over to Sergeant Beal. Looking down, he said firmly, “Let me show you out. We’ll be in touch.”
Sergeant Beal didn’t answer or move right away. It was Joe who nudged her into action. “As you wish,” she said, but if it was in response to Miles or Joe, I couldn’t tell. She bent her head to tuck her notebook back into her pocket. As she did so, she missed Joe catching Miles’s eye and pointedly mouthing “Thank you.”
I gave a sigh of relief. At least Joe still believed Ann. I just hoped it was enough.
Miles was on the phone to his lawyer seconds after the front door shut. The rest of us circled around Ann, not
