It was the job she wanted, and the timing was right. With Kerry having graduated, she would be spared the awkwardness of having her big sister work at the same school.
20
Marge was living in a state of suspended animation. Instinctively she had felt that when Detective Wilson stopped in the day Kerry’s body was found, he had observed Jamie looking for her approval. Although she believed he had not told anyone about going into Kerry’s pool, it was always possible he would blurt it out to someone. It didn’t help that sometimes out of the blue he would refer back to it with her.
“Mom, I didn’t tell anybody about going swimming with Kerry.”
Her reassurances were quick and hushed. “That’s our secret, dear. We don’t talk about secrets.”
Every day, when she left him at the Acme market, she held her breath until she picked him up. Without realizing why, she found herself driving him both ways, instead of letting him walk.
As soon as he got home, she would ask him who he had talked to at work and what they had spoken about. Sometimes he would finish his answer with a triumphant smile. “And I didn’t tell anybody I went swimming with Kerry.” Marge was conflicted. She wanted to keep track of anyone he was speaking to. On the other hand, were these conversations making him think even more about what happened the night Kerry died?
It made things worse when he suddenly began to talk about “the Big Guy” in the woods. Jack’s affectionate nickname for Jamie was “the Big Guy.” Trying to sound casual, she asked him, “What about the Big Guy, Jamie?”
“He hit Kerry and pushed her in the pool,” he said matter-of-factly.
Marge forced herself to ask, “Jamie, who is the Big Guy?”
“Daddy called me the Big Guy. Remember, Mom?”
Her throat went dry. Marge whispered, “I remember, Jamie. I remember.”
Marge knew that she could not bear the burden alone. Her consuming worry was that the police might try to blame Jamie, especially since he had told them about swimming with Kerry, but she knew it wasn’t right to hide the truth from them.
The previous evening Jamie had told her a big guy had come around from the bushes after the first guy left, and he had hit Kerry on the head and pushed her in the pool.
But if Jamie told that to the police, they would compare him to Alan Crowley. Alan was medium height and on the thin side. Jamie was six feet, one inch, and not fat but broad. Sometime he calls himself “Big Guy,” Marge thought. If he says this to the police, they might think that “the Big Guy” Jamie was describing was actually Jamie himself. If they believe that, they might arrest him.
He’d be so frightened. He’s so easily manipulated. He always wants to please. He’ll happily say anything they want to hear.
Marge felt again the familiar tightness in her chest. Her doctor had warned her to take a nitroglycerin tablet whenever that happened. By the end of the day she had taken three tablets.
Dear God, don’t let anything happen to me, she begged. He needs me now more than ever.
21
Mike’s next stops were the homes of the four girls who had texted Kerry after the party. Each set of their parents had agreed to allow their daughter to talk.
He rang the bell of Betsy Finley and met her and her parents. He was invited to come into the living room. Betsy sat on a couch, wedged between her parents. Wilson settled into a chair opposite the couch.
He began by saying, as Detective Harsh had said during his interviews, that he had no intention of arresting anyone solely for drinking or having any drugs, but that it was very important that Betsy be honest with him. He emphasized that his only interest was in finding out what had happened to Kerry.
He tried to make his questions sound casual. After Betsy sheepishly admitted that she had one or two vodkas, they established what time Betsy got to the party and what time she left. Wilson asked, “Were there any fights or disagreements at the party?”
Of course, Betsy immediately told him that Alan and Kerry had an argument because Kerry and Chris Kobel were flirting with each other. And after the quarrel, Alan left before anyone else. She told Mike that everyone else left in a group because Kerry wanted them all out by eleven o’clock.
The interview turned out to be simply a verification of what Mike knew from the texts and his interview of Alan.
His final question was “Do you know who brought in the beer and vodka?” It drew a shake of Betsy’s head.
“It was already there when I arrived, and I was the first one to get to the party.”
Similar answers came from the next two girls who had texted Kerry. The one who’d sent the “Dump Alan” text heatedly exclaimed that Alan wasn’t just upset or annoyed; he was ballistic.
It was the last girl who had texted Kerry after the party who proved the most valuable to Mike. When he asked her who brought the liquor to the party, her answer was “Kerry told me that the guy who fixed the flat tire on her car had told her that anytime she had a party, he could get her whatever alcohol she wanted.”
Mike did not show any change of expression. “Do you know the name of the guy who fixed the flat?”
“I don’t.”
“Did Kerry describe him or say where she met him?”
“I think she got the flat on Route 17 in Mahwah, and he pulled over to help.”
“Did she say where she met him to get the alcohol for the party?”
“No, but she did tell me that when she met him to pick it up, he put it in her trunk. Then when
