Shattered (Michael Bennett #14)(68)

I said, “Did Michelle Luna threaten your husband?”

This time there was a long hesitation. “It wasn’t a physical threat. And it wasn’t to my husband. It was a threat to my marriage. She got her hooks into Rob and wasn’t going to let go. He became obsessed with her. The more power she had over my husband, the more she enjoyed it. And she liked to rub it in my face.”

This wasn’t quite a confession, but it was close. I could feel the excitement build in my stomach. Like I was on a roller coaster about to drop from the top of the lift hill.

She wore a blank look on her face as she took a clean napkin to wipe her eyes and blow her nose again. Rhea said, “I just wanted to talk to Michelle. We were at her apartment building in Laurel, in the parking lot next to her car. It was evening, the first time in a week she’d left our house. The first time I could get her away from Rob to talk to her alone. She said she was part of his life now.” Rhea trailed off to nearly a whisper. “It was nothing planned. It just sort of happened.” Then she sat there without saying a word.

Twenty seconds passed in what felt like an hour.

Detective Holly prompted her. “What happened? I mean exactly what happened?”

Rhea was still operating in that weird time warp. She waited ten seconds more, then said, “Michelle turned away from me. Looking at her back and neck reminded me of all the self-defense training I’d taken with Beth.” She looked around the table, then said, “Beth Banks is my husband’s sister. She’s really quite good at Brazilian jujitsu.”

Then she returned to her original story. “Anyway, when Michelle turned her back, I wrapped my arm around her throat. Just like Beth had taught me. I locked my arm in place with my left hand. By that time, I was furious. I don’t even know how long I held her throat. But when I released my grip, she dropped to the ground. I panicked. We were right next to her car, so I shoved her into it. Then I drove out of the parking lot. Before I knew it, I was headed north toward Baltimore. I parked the car in a desolate-looking section of the city.”

Detective Holly said, “Did you do anything to the interior of the car?”

This was important. If Rhea knew the details, she couldn’t claim later she invented the story.

Rhea said, “Yes. I found a small can of WD-40 in the glove compartment. I’d seen a brief my husband had read where the defendant sprayed WD-40 to remove oils that leave fingerprints on surfaces. I gave it a try before I placed Michelle behind the wheel of her car. Then I just walked away. I took three different cabs to get back to my car at her apartment complex.”

Now it was our turn to be speechless. We all stared at Rhea Wellmy-Steinberg.





Chapter 90



I sat quietly and listened as Detective Holly carefully walked Rhea through the rest of the interview. She asked all the usual questions. Rhea seemed more in control now, but she hadn’t stopped talking. Amazing. It was as if she didn’t think she had done anything wrong.

Maybe I was giving her too much credit for her law degree, but I almost thought she was setting up a defense of mental incompetence. She legitimately thought she was justified in her actions. After about twenty minutes, my opinion evolved from Rhea setting up the parameters of a mental incompetence defense to realizing she was batshit crazy.

I felt a wave of nerves. Detective Holly caught my eye to let me know she was winding up the interview. She set me up perfectly with a line of questioning. Detective Holly said to Rhea, “Was Michelle Luna the only woman involved in a romantic relationship with you and your husband?”

“Why would that matter?”

Detective Holly looked at me and I fired my first and most important question. This was going to be my only chance before someone ripped me off this case. Whether it was the NYPD terminating my employment or the FBI kicking me out of DC.

I looked directly at Rhea and waited until she focused on me alone. Then I said, “It matters because we are still investigating the murder of Emily Parker. Remember, I asked you questions about Emily just a few days ago right in this spot.”

Rhea Wellmy-Steinberg stared at me, with a look of surprise that quickly changed to anger and then to outrage. Rhea said, “How could you think I would ever hurt Emily? She was everything to me.”

I had to keep up the pressure. “Did Emily get her ‘hooks’ into your husband like Michelle did?” I lifted my hands to use air quotes for possibly the first time in my life.

Now Rhea looked positively pissed off. “How dare you. You claim to be Emily’s friend. How could you ever think she’d try to manipulate my husband? We were all soul mates together. If anything, Emily and I were closer than she and Rob.”

“So you’re saying you had nothing to do with her abduction and murder? I just want to be absolutely clear.”

“If you think that little of Emily and can’t read when someone is telling the truth, I don’t think you’re a particularly good detective.”

I believed her. I could read people well. I also had years of experience. Someone didn’t admit to one homicide then deny another one so vehemently.

After a couple of standard questions, I hit Rhea with “Was she concerned about anyone? Did she feel like she was in danger?”

“From whom? She was a physically fit FBI agent. She never mentioned any concerns.”