“So Kerry was alone. What was she doing?”
“She was cleaning up. Then Alan Crowley came over. He likes Kerry. He kissed her and hugged her.”
Pointing to her backyard, Aline asked, “Where did Alan come from?”
Jamie seemed confused by the questions. Aline took his hand. “Come on. We’re going over to my yard. I want you to show me everything you did that night and everything you saw.”
76
For the full minute that Valerie cried, Angela held on as the girl buried her head in her shoulder.
“Who is it, Valerie?” Angela asked. “Who did this to you?”
“I can’t tell. I told Kerry and she’s dead. It’s my fault.”
Her voice had reached a crescendo of fear and grief. Angela began rocking her. “Valerie, Valerie, you’re safe, honey. You’re safe.”
Marina and Wayne had heard her screaming “He’s raping me!” and rushed into the room. “Valerie, Valerie!” Marina cried.
Mike was staring at Wayne. Aline had told him that Valerie seemed to resent her stepfather. Was he the one doing this to her?
As Wayne rushed to Valerie, Mike sprang up. Wayne dropped to his knees beside the couch. “Valerie, baby, tell us who did this to you. You need to tell us.”
“It’s, it’s, my coach, Scott Kimball. He did it. He won’t stop.”
“The coach,” Marina exclaimed. “My God, we let him come in here this afternoon. He was so concerned about Valerie. We even let him talk to her alone.”
“He warned me not to say anything to anybody. He said, ‘Aline should remember what happened to Kerry,’ ” Valerie sobbed.
Wayne stood up. “I’ll kill him,” he said, his voice deadly quiet.
Mike was as dumbfounded as the others. Scott Kimball must have somehow found out that Valerie had confided in Kerry. He took out his cell phone, went to Contacts and tapped Aline’s cell number. She didn’t pick up. Is she in trouble? “I have to check on Aline,” he said abruptly.
“Go,” Angela said. “I’ve got things covered here.”
He rushed out of the room, ran out the door and to his car. As he was driving he called the Saddle River Police. “Send units immediately to the Chapman house, 15 Waverly Road. Scott Kimball, white male, early thirties, a rapist, and probably a murderer, might be there.”
77
They walked downstairs, out the back door and across the lawn. As they entered the Dowling property, Jamie stopped. He bent his head down and started walking around, looking at the grass.
“Jamie, what are you doing?”
“It’s not here,” he said.
“What’s not here?” Aline asked.
“The golf club. It was on the grass.”
“Wait here, Jamie.”
Aline sprinted around to the garage, grabbed a club, brought it back to where Jamie was standing and handed it to him.
“It was here,” he said, putting the club in the grass, and then picking it back up. “I wanted to help Kerry clean up.”
“Show me what you did with it.”
Jamie picked up the club and carried it over to the pool area. Looking at the end of the club, he said, “This one is clean. The other one was dirty.” He put it on top of a recliner at the side of the pool.
So when Jamie picked up the club off the lawn and brought it to the pool area, he believed he was helping to clean up, Aline thought. That explains why his fingerprints are on the murder weapon.
She followed closely behind him. They were facing the patio.
“You’re doing a great job, Jamie. Did Alan come back after the party to see Kerry?”
“Yes.”
“Show me what he did, where he came from.”
Jamie walked to the side of the house, out of her sight.
Then he turned around and came back. He picked up the club off the recliner and laid it on the stone patio. “Alan did this,” Jamie said as he picked it up again and leaned it against a patio chair.
“Then what did Alan do?” Aline asked quietly. “Make believe I’m Kerry. Do everything Alan did.”
Jamie walked over to her. He gave her a hug, then kissed her forehead. He then walked away and around the side of the house.
When Jamie came back, Aline said, “We are still playing the pretend game. I want you to pretend that I’m Kerry. Now show me what the Big Guy did. Show me where he came from.”
Jamie walked to the other side of the backyard that bordered the woods.
Aline felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the name on the screen. “Mike Wilson.” She was making progress with Jamie and didn’t want to stop. I’ll call him back, she thought.
Jamie began tiptoeing across the backyard. As he approached the patio, he motioned Aline to stand closer to the pool.
“Turn around,” he said. Aline faced away from Jamie but glanced back over her shoulder at him. Jamie picked up the putter that was leaning against the chair. As he came closer to her he raised the putter high over his head and began to swing it.
“Okay, Jamie, that’s enough,” Aline said as she raised her hands to protect herself.
“That’s what Big Guy did.”
“So the Big Guy came out of the woods. He picked up the club and hit Kerry. Then what did he do?”
Jamie nodded as he threw the club into the grass past the pool.
Forcing the words from her lips, Aline asked, “Jamie, are you the Big Guy who hit Kerry?”
Jamie seemed bewildered by the question. He shook his head, looked all around and when he glanced over at the woods, his expression changed. Pointing emphatically, he yelled, “Aline, he did it. He hit her. Big Guy pushed her in the water.”
78
Mike sped down Chestnut Ridge Road and turned onto Waverly Road. Instinct told him not to turn on the siren. If Kimball was with Aline, Mike did not want him to have advance warning of his arrival.
He pulled into the Chapman driveway, sprinted the twenty yards
