“Of course.”
Marge walked over to the stairs and called up to Jamie.
Detective Wilson interrupted her. “If it’s okay with you, Mrs. Chapman, can I talk to Jamie in his room?”
“I guess that would be okay,” Marge said as she began to climb the stairs with the detective one step behind her. She knocked tentatively on Jamie’s door and then opened it. He was sprawled on his bed watching a video.
“Jamie, I want you to meet Detective Wilson.”
“Hi Jamie,” Mike said, extending his hand forward.
Jamie stood up. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir,” he said as he shook hands. He turned to Marge for her approval. Her smile confirmed to him that he had used good manners.
Jamie and Marge sat on the bed. Mike went over to the window. The Dowlings and the Chapmans were backyard neighbors. He looked down at the Dowling swimming pool, then sat in the chair opposite the bed.
“Jamie, I just want to talk to you for a few minutes. You know Kerry Dowling, don’t you?”
“Yes. She’s in Heaven.”
Wilson smiled. “That’s right, Jamie. She went to Heaven. But her parents and the police want to find out what happened before she went to Heaven. There was a party last night at Kerry’s house.”
“Kerry didn’t invite me.”
“I know you weren’t there, Jamie, I just—”
“It was for the kids who just graduated. I’m older. I’m twenty years old. I just had my birthday.”
“Well, happy birthday, Jamie.” Wilson went over to the window. “Jamie, I can see Kerry’s backyard and pool from here. So that means if you were in your room last night, you could too.”
“I didn’t go swimming with Kerry,” Jamie said as he looked at his mother with a conspiratorial smile.
Mike smiled. “I know you didn’t, Jamie. Did you see Kerry in her backyard cleaning up last night?”
“I help clean up at the Acme, where I work from eleven o’clock to three o’clock.”
“So you didn’t see Kerry in her backyard or see her go into her pool last night?”
“I did not go swimming with Kerry. I promise,” Jamie said as he put his arm around his mother and kissed her.
“Okay. Thank you Jamie. Mrs. Chapman, I’m going to leave you my card. Sometimes people recall things later. If you or Jamie think of anything that might be helpful to our investigation, please contact me.”
They walked downstairs and accompanied Wilson to the front door. After Marge closed it behind him, Jamie gave her a triumphant smile and exclaimed, “I kept the secret!”
Marge put her finger to her lips and uttered “Shhhhhhh.” She was terrified that the detective might have lingered on the porch and heard Jamie. Heart in her throat, she walked over to the front window. With a sigh of relief she watched Wilson step off the end of her driveway, open the front door of his car and get in.
Mike started the car but paused before he started driving. Why did he have the feeling that something about Jamie’s answers sounded rehearsed?
13
While Mike Wilson focused on the four girls whose text messages were on Kerry’s phone, detectives from the Prosecutor’s Office met at the homes of Kerry’s other friends who had been at the party. In most cases the mother or father or both sat in. Usually they sat on the couch on either side of their son or daughter, so tightly together that their arms were squeezing each other.
Detective Harsh, who began the questioning, started with a statement to put them at ease. “I want you to know right off the bat that this investigation is not about trying to charge or arrest anyone who was engaged in underage drinking that night. We know that a lot of people were. There were vodka and beer bottles all over the Dowling home and property. We don’t know if anyone was using drugs that night. We do have to ask if you were drinking or using any drugs because it’s possible that that could have affected your perceptions that night or your memory today. But again, we’re not looking to get anyone in trouble for those reasons. What we do want to know is if there were any arguments or fights that night, particularly any that involved Kerry Dowling.”
There had been thirty-one individuals at Kerry’s party. Eight girls had witnessed Alan and Kerry having an argument. None of the girls admitted to having anything more than a couple of beers. They all adamantly denied that there were any drugs at the party.
One of the girls, Kate, who described herself as Kerry’s best friend, cried as she spoke. “Alan got furious because Chris Kobel kept hanging around Kerry and talking about all the fun they were going to have at Boston College. It was clear that he wanted to go out with her. I hoped they would start going out. I thought Alan was being a jerk.”
“Why did you think that?”
“Because he’s so possessive of Kerry. In June, when he heard Chris had asked Kerry to go to the senior prom, he told Chris that Kerry was his girl and never to ask her out again. I told Kerry that Chris was a much nicer guy than Alan and she should smarten up and dump Alan.
“Then at the party Alan had been drinking a lot of beer. He picked a fight with Chris. Kerry stepped between them and started yelling at Alan. He took off and slammed the door behind him.”
“How did Kerry react to that?”
“She looked upset for a minute but then she shrugged it off and said, ‘Forget it.’?”
“What time did Alan leave?”
“I’m not sure. It was ten-thirty, maybe quarter of eleven.”
“Did Alan come back?”
“No.”
“And what time did the party break up?”
“We all got out by eleven. That’s when neighbors call the cops if there’s any noise.”
“Did anyone help Kerry clean up?”
“She said she’d do it herself. She wanted all the parked cars off the block by eleven o’clock. Kerry was very nervous about what she would do if a cop showed up when the party was still going.”
“I have two last questions. Did you go out on the patio at any point in the evening?”
“Oh, sure I did.”
“Did you notice a golf club out there?”
“Oh, yes. I did. The Dowlings are big golfers. They have a practice putting green on the side lawn. A couple of the guys were putting with it.”
14
The unreality of what had happened to Kerry was a nightmare that dominated the few hours that Aline managed to doze on Sunday night. The events from the first moment she had found Kerry’s body in the pool were a soundtrack running at fast-forward speed.
The cop doing CPR and then shaking his head.
The detective herding them into the house.
Trying to absorb the unspeakable.
Father Frank trying to make sense of the senseless.
Neighbors pouring in, offering to help in any way they can. Help with what?
Grandpa Dowling in the nursing home in Florida, who would be too sick to make the trip.
Mom’s mother and father would be flying in tomorrow.
People bringing in food that they could only pick at.
Mom’s constant sobbing.
Dad, white-faced, lips tight. His expression grief-stricken, trying to offer comfort to Mom and me.
The exhaustion of the flight home and the time change made it possible for me to fall asleep for an hour or so.
And then the kaleidoscope began.
At seven o’clock Aline sat up, threw aside the covers and dragged herself out of bed. The day, cloudy and promising rain, was in keeping with the way she felt.
She had tied back her long brown hair with a scrunchie, but it had slipped off during the night. She went over to the mirror on the dresser opposite the bed. It was as though Kerry was standing beside her, staring into it. Kerry looked like Mom with her golden blonde hair. Sparkling blue eyes. Perfect features.
Aline was her father’s child, with hazel eyes, a thin face and deep brown hair. “Mud-colored,” she told herself.