The Cat, the Wife and the Weapon

But yelling was a mistake. Our visitor must have heard me.

Hilary Roth appeared at the steps leading up to my deck. Finn had been doing as I suggested and was halfway to the house, but when he saw his mother, he stopped in his tracks. Yoshi caught up with him and sat, staring up at Finn. He held out his arms for his dog and Yoshi leaped up. Finn remained where he was.

“Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Hart, but I wanted to thank you again for caring for my son,” she said.

She hadn’t looked toward the lake, and thus apparently didn’t see Finn standing in the shadows of the pines and oaks.

“No need to thank me,” I said.

“I heard you call Finn’s name just now and—” Finally she looked to her left and spotted him. “Oh, there you are.” She held out one hand. “Can we talk? Please?”

Finn remained where he was, clutching his dog to his chest.

“Can I offer a suggestion?” I said.

She focused on Finn but spoke to me. “Certainly.”

“Give him time to recover,” I said. “He’s hurting right now, both physically and mentally.”

“You think his problems are my fault, don’t you?” she said.

I would have expected her to be angry but she only sounded resigned.

“I don’t have all the facts,” I said, “and besides, I’ve found blaming others isn’t very productive.”

“You’re being nice. All I know is I’ve made some poor choices. Except for Tom. I regret how I treated him.” She kept looking in Finn’s direction.

He turned away and walked toward the lake.

Interesting how she mentioned regret when it came to Tom and yet said nothing about her son. Maybe she truly didn’t think she was part of the problem. From Tom and Finn’s remarks, the issues between Finn and his mother were long-standing. Maybe I needed to hear her side of the story.

“Tell me a little about yourself. Do you work?” I asked, hoping to ease into conversation and get her to tell me about her life before her husband’s murder.

From the corner of my eye I saw Finn pick up a stick and toss it for Yoshi.

“I lost my job. This economy has been brutal,” she said.

“What did you used to do?” I asked.

She finally took her eyes off Finn. “Administrative assistant positions, mostly for executives. No college education, I’m afraid, but I’m a quick learner. Lately things have been pretty tough.”

Having two former inmates for ex-husbands meant not a lot of alimony or child support came her way. Still, if money was tight for Hilary, she was certainly well dressed, her hair looked salon cut and her creamy complexion seemed to have benefited from plenty of expensive care. She was either in debt up to her ears or had some other source of income.

My doubt about her tough times must have shown on my face because she said, “I have family money we’ve been living on. Nolan hasn’t worked since he left prison. He only knew how to be a cop. He couldn’t even find private security work.”

“Ah. Did he envy Tom for setting up a successful security business?” I said.

“Oh yes. He hated Tom. Jail gives a man plenty of time to simmer. Nolan couldn’t forget Tom was the one who sent him away.” She examined a rose-painted fingernail. “Despite Nolan’s faults, I loved him. And he cared about my son, just didn’t know how to show it.”

“That’s a lie,” said Tom, who had just appeared around the corner of the house. “Nolan cared about Nolan. And he sent himself to jail.”

I’d been so involved in the conversation I hadn’t heard him arrive. I wondered if he’d seen Hilary on his home computer feed from the security camera fixed to the eaves, the one pointed directly at her. Seeing her would have made him hightail it over here.

“You’re wrong, Tom,” she said quietly.

He pointed to the fading bruises on his face. “He did this to me while you watched from somewhere. I don’t care what line of bull you fed Mike Baca; you were there.”

Tom isn’t about to beat around the bush when it comes to Hilary, I thought.

“I wasn’t even in town during the time the police chief told me Nolan brought you to North Carolina,” she said.

“That’s your story?” Tom laughed derisively and took a step toward her.

I walked down the deck steps and stood between them. “If both of you care as much about Finn as you say you do, you shouldn’t argue in front of him.”

Hilary glanced in Finn’s direction. He may have been pretending to keep his distance, but I could tell he was paying close attention to this confrontation.

Tom hung his head and mumbled, “You’re right.”

“I’m sorry,” Hilary said. “I came hoping my son would talk to me.”

“He won’t,” Tom whispered harshly. “So leave and quit bugging Jillian. Now and in the future.”

I never saw this side of him before, I thought. He was so bitter. I wondered if he still had feelings for Hilary since lingering animosity can signal a relationship is far short of closure.

“You know what?” I said. “You two seem to have plenty of unfinished business. Why don’t you talk, settle a few things, if only for Finn’s sake. I’ll be inside making coffee.”

Before either of them could respond, I left them together. But as I made the coffee, I glanced out the window at them pointing fingers and seemingly talking at the same time. I didn’t see any progress in the peace department. But at least they were speaking. I also noticed Finn edging ever closer to them. He wanted to know what was going on and I couldn’t blame him.

I went back outside, if only to offer Finn support by my presence. But I was thinking, How can such a beautiful morning seem so stifling?

Just as I closed the door behind me so my curious feline friends wouldn’t join us, more visitors arrived.

Candace and Morris.

By the serious look on Candace’s face, I could tell this wasn’t a friendly drop-in.

“Hey there,” she said, her gloomy tone further indicating something was wrong.

“What do you two want?” Tom said. He was on the defensive.

“We need to talk to Finn,” Candace said.

“He won’t come near the house as long as she’s here.” Tom nodded at Hilary.

“Guess I’ll have to go get him.” Morris took a step in Finn’s direction.

Tom grabbed his arm. “Wait. Can I go with you?” He’d dropped the attitude and I saw alarm in his expression.

“Sure enough,” Morris said. “You know the kid and I don’t.”

As they walked toward Finn, Hilary spoke. “What’s this about, Officer?”

“We need to ask your son a few questions,” Candace said.

“You already asked him questions yesterday,” Hilary said.

“This will be a more, um… formal interview.” Candace averted her gaze, attending to what was happening between Morris, Tom and Finn.

I heard Tom say, “He’s not a murderer,” before Finn handed Yoshi over to him.

All three walked toward us, the little dog squirming in Tom’s grasp.

The whole scene made me sick to my stomach. I managed to find my voice and say, “What’s this about, Candace?”

She looked at me, a sadness in her eyes that scared me more than her earlier tone of voice.

“It’s about evidence, Jillian,” she said. “About blood and fingerprints.”

Sixteen

At least when Candace and Morris took Finn away in their squad car, they didn’t put him in handcuffs. But from what I’d learned in the past from Candace, the words formal interview were a