“Where was your mother at twelve thirty?”
“She was at the stove when I left. Arguing with Junior. Luke, I mean. I haven’t called him Junior in fourteen years now. Luther named him; I was thrilled to change it to Luke.”
“What were they arguing about?” Miranda asked. “I don’t really remember him very well. Wasn’t he in my sister’s class?”
“Yes. He had a lot to say about her back then. Thought she was just the greatest thing. Luke had a lot to say about everything. Still does.”
“I haven’t spoken with him yet. We’re going to speak to Lesley first. I know he was gone until about five forty-five that day. He had said he came home, and you were there, telling him he had to pack. Just let us narrow down a timeframe for when Jim could have killed your mother, and we’ll get on with the rest of the interviews. We need to figure out why Jim did it before we can close the case fully.”
“I went back to work. Clocked back in by one fifteen. I had to be back at my press by one twenty. I have witnesses.”
“Yes, we know. Now we spoke with Kayla. She confirmed that your mother was fine at around two thirty. So whoever hurt your mother did so between two forty-five or so and when you arrived home at four forty-five or so?”
“Had to have been. I never spoke to her again, after she threw us out on my lunch break. I just don’t know. I just don’t. I don’t know what more you can ask. I went back to work, and I came home and told my four sick kids to pack. That’s it.”
“Why did you not wait for your mother, to discuss things? Perhaps come to a compromise?”
“There was a letter on the table. In her handwriting. Telling us to get out. So we left. We just left. Maybe I panicked. I called Luther, and he came home. He was pissed. He always hated my mother. Maybe you need to talk to him?”
“Luther wasn’t anywhere near the house at any time during what occurred,” Miranda said. “We know this. We know Lesley wasn’t. We know the younger kids were. But since the girls were too young to have killed your mother and buried her, we’ve excluded them.”
“You saying one of my kids hurt my mother and got Jim to bury her. That doesn’t make any sense. It just doesn’t.”
“It doesn’t, does it?” Miranda asked. “So tell us, Pauline…why does Jim insist you told him to bury your mother in the barn?”
57
They had Pauline. Miranda knew it with one look. Jac had had the foresight to take photos of the scarring on Luke Meynard’s temple from where his grandmother had attacked him. And he’d given a sworn statement, in the presence of his attorney, that he had struck his grandmother in self-defense at approximately 2:40 on the day she’d died. But she’d been still alive when he had last seen her. Then he heard her arguing with someone. A few hours later.
Over him.
“Pauline, can you take a look at this photo, please?” Miranda slid the snapshot in front of the woman. Pauline was cuffed to the table, a far cry from her last interview. Identity theft and tax evasion had been mentioned. As had the fact that she’d basically attacked Max, slicing his arm to ribbons and even biting him.
It was the biting that had done it. Max was extremely pissed off by people who bit him. It had almost been enough to have him losing his legendary temper.
Legendary because Maddox Jones had never appeared to even have a temper.
“Yeah, it’s my son. Luke. What about him. And why is the camera pointed at his head like that?”
“Do you remember how Luke received that scar?” Jac had filled her in on the entire story. It had sickened Miranda.
She’d always liked Junior back then. He hadn’t been super-annoying or anything. He had hung around her sister Marin a bit, always quiet and good with numbers. Usually he had his slightly younger sister Honey tagging along behind him.
She was glad things had worked out for him. Marin had always been a great judge of character and had mentioned many times that she wondered what had happened to Junior Beise.
Once the case was over, Miranda could tell her sister he’d turned out just fine.
“Of course, I don’t. I have eight kids and seven grandkids, how am I supposed to keep up with every bump and bruise? You have a question about Luke, ask Luke.”
“He stated here that ‘My grandmother was angry with me, and she struck out with a steel spatula, causing the area around my eye to tear.’ He became nauseated and vomited after seeing the blood.”
“Never could handle blood, that one. Used to drive Luther crazy, taking him into the woods to toughen him up. Well, he’s not so tough now. Wears a suit, but at least he knows how to handle money. Handles a few investments for me, when I have the spare cash, so I don’t end up on the streets. He’s probably my smartest boy. Always was smart-mouthed, too. Him and Diane.” She shot a narrow look at Miranda. “You know that. You were just as cocky as my daughter.”
“Aren’t most fifteen-year-olds, though? I thought I knew everything back then. My poor grandmother was going nuts from raising all seven of us, eight if you count my cousin Charlotte. Funny you and my grandmother have that in common. But one thing Luke is adamant about, Pauline…he swears that he heard you arguing with your mother after she hit him repeatedly.”
“Nonsense. I didn’t see my mother again that day. Not after I went back to work.” She smirked at Miranda and Knight. “I told you that. There was a letter telling us to get out. So we got out.”
“Come on, you don’t just pack up your family and move and
