“Thank you, thank you,” she said.
“How about we let your hands be free from now on, huh?” she said. “So, you can hug the bear while sleeping? I’m sure Damian won’t mind if I ask him.”
Kitty felt such deep relief. For some reason she really wanted this woman to like her.
“Would you, please?”
“Of course. There’s no need to have you tied up. The door is bolted shut anyway from the outside.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Linda smiled gently. “I can see why my husband loves you so much. I have to admit it makes me jealous from time to time. Some days I have been wanting to come over here and hurt you, because of it. She paused and Kitty stared at her, mouth open. Then the woman smiled and tilted her head.
“But of course, I won’t. Don’t be scared.”
Kitty stared at her, hugging the teddy bear a little too tight. She didn’t know if she was supposed to feel sorry for the woman or fear her.
Maybe it was a little of both.
Linda averted her eyes and grabbed the tray. “My husband loves you. I can see it in his eyes. He’s never looked at me that way.”
Kitty was too stunned to speak, and she just nodded in response. Linda gave her one last regretful look before turning and walking to the door. With one hand on the door handle, she said, “I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know.”
Then the door closed, and the silence returned.
FORTY-TWOBILLIE ANN
Pete Perez was already seated in the room when Big Tom and I walked in. He was a small man, with a face lined by age and worry, but his eyes still held traces of the young, carefree man he had once been. He was nervous and fidgety, shifting position constantly as we sat down, and twirling a ring around on his finger, as if he were trying to distract himself from some invisible pain.
“Mr. Perez?” I said.
He looked up and our eyes met. I could tell he was anxious. “Yes?”
“We have called you in today to ask you a few questions.”
He nodded. “Of course. Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing is wrong, Mr. Perez. Just routine.”
He nodded. “Oh, okay. ’Cause I already told you; I was away on a business trip when Cassandra was murdered. I know you always look at the close relatives first when investigating a murder. And I have an alibi. I have hotel receipts and airline tickets to prove it.”
I smiled again. “We know. We have everything on file.”
He sniffled. “That’s good. That’s good.”
He sipped the water I had given him in a small plastic cup.
“Mr. Perez, what is the nature of your relationship with Marissa Clemens?” Big Tom asked.
He lifted his glare and met Tom’s. “I already told you I didn’t know much about the woman living across the street. I never even saw her child. I’ve told you this.”
“But that’s what I don’t understand. Your daughter babysat her daughter?” I said. “How can you not know her? Your wife told us that you helped her get that job.”
“She did? Yeah, well, I guess I did. Technically. I didn’t do a lot though. I just met the woman in the street one day and she mentioned that she needed a babysitter, and asked if I knew anyone I could recommend. I just told Cassandra about it and asked her to go over there and talk to her. Cassandra did it by herself really. She had so many babysitting jobs around the neighborhood; she was very popular.”
I leaned forward folding my hands on the table. “Mr. Perez. This would be way easier if you could just tell us the truth.”
He looked startled. “What do you mean? I am telling the truth. I maybe have spoken to her a few times in the street, but that’s…”
I pulled out the paper with the deed of the house from the county and slid it across the table for him to look at. He stopped talking and stared at it.
I pointed with my finger, then stated for the recording, “I’m showing Mr. Perez evidence eight A.” I looked at him. “This is your name, right? On that line here?”
His shoulders slumped, and he became less guarded. “Y-yes.”
“Okay, let’s try it again then,” I said. “What is the nature of your relationship with Miss Clemens?”
“I… I don’t know how to answer that.”
“You paid for her house,” Big Tom said. “You own it and paid her mortgage.”
“Yes, that is true. The house is mine. I used to live there before I met my wife. We needed something bigger when Cassandra was born, but wanted to stay in the neighborhood, and so we bought the one across the street.”
“So, Marissa rented that house from you?” I asked.
He nodded.
“For the purposes of the tape, Mr. Perez has confirmed…” I paused. “There’s nothing wrong with that, except she didn’t pay any rent, did she? We’ve been through your bank records. No deposits or transfers from her. She could never afford a house like that on her nurse’s salary.”
