A Deadly Influence (Abby Mullen Thrillers #1)(104)
“He didn’t ask for an attorney?” Abby asked, inspecting the screens in the monitor room. Otis Tillman sat in one of the interrogation rooms, leaning back in his chair, his face expressionless.
“He did,” Wong said. “As soon as we got here. He asked for Richard Styles, but when we told him his lawyer was under arrest as well, he waived his right to an attorney.”
Abby glanced at the time. Half past midnight.
“Let’s talk to him,” Carver said.
“Wait.” Abby hesitated. “Maybe I should go there on my own.”
Carver frowned. “Why? We can probably make it work better if we do it together.”
“I’m just thinking . . . he knows me and—”
“Abby, is this about that time in the academy?”
“That’s part of it,” she admitted. “We didn’t do so well back then.”
A tiny smile twisted Carver’s lips. “We were practically teenagers back then. It’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. I’ll let you lead, do your light, casual questioning. And when I feel like we need to lean on him, I’ll intervene.”
“Okay,” Abby said. “Don’t mention the murders until we get a few questions in. I want to start out with him assuming he can weasel himself out of this, so the less charges he knows we’re throwing at him, the better.”
“No problem,” Carver agreed. “But you leave the confession videos and all the forensic stuff to me for when he needs to be bullied.”
Carver led the way to the interrogation room. The smell in the claustrophobic chamber hit Abby as she stepped in—a noxious mix of sweat, farts, and disinfectant. Otis hardly even moved as they entered, as if they didn’t matter. Abby sat across the table from him. Carver dragged his own chair to the side of the table, effectively blocking Otis in. He sat too close to the man, invading his personal space. Otis reflexively moved his chair away to distance himself from the detective, breaking his nonchalant demeanor.
“I have some good news for you, Otis,” Abby said. “The Suffolk County executive is eager to keep a lid on this entire story. He really doesn’t want his grandson’s face plastered on the news tomorrow, labeled as a cult member. So we’re willing to cut you some slack. If you tell us where Nathan Fletcher is, we’ll do our best to minimize the charges brought against you.”
Otis folded his arms. “We’re not a cult, Lieutenant Mullen; I already told you that. We’re a Christian community. Why the NYPD is conducting this witch hunt is beyond me. And when dawn breaks tomorrow, and the media starts reporting about my nephew’s murder by your homicidal cops, you’ll be singing a different tune.”
“We’re only interested in Nathan’s safety. We don’t care about the way you manage your community.”
“I also care about Nathan’s safety. He’s my dearest friend’s son, and I would never do anything to harm him.”
Otis probably believed that come morning, the news would be filled with reports about the Christian community that had been ravaged by the police. And he was intent on wasting their time until that happened. If Abby wanted to get anywhere with him, she had to make him feel like time was his enemy. And she knew how to do it. Otis, like most cult leaders, brimmed with paranoia and distrust. The loyalty of his members was always cast in doubt. And now that they were out of his reach, it would only get worse.
“A few members of your community are already talking,” Abby said. “We learned you were planning on kidnapping both of David’s kids. And Karl was supposed to marry Gabrielle, right?”
A flicker of doubt, almost instantly gone. “When David lost his kids to that woman, he was bereft with grief. He approached me and asked if we could get them back. And yes, he also got Karl worked up about it. I humored them for a bit, but ultimately they came to see it was a bad idea.”
“It didn’t look that way. Karl kept following Gabrielle online. And he stalked her in real life as well.”
“That was unfortunate. I allowed him a cell phone because of some outside work he was doing for our farm. But I didn’t know he would use it to follow that girl. If I only knew, I wouldn’t have encouraged that.”
Abby smiled at him, sliding her hair behind her ear. “He used one of the farm’s trucks to go there, didn’t he? I thought you ran a tight ship. Surely you noticed he was missing for long periods of time. And using a lot of gas.”
“I did. Of course. And when I asked him about it, he said he was doing some rounds, making sure our suppliers didn’t cheat us.” He glanced to the side, his voice breaking as he said, “He was a good kid. I believed him.”
“If my best friend was suffering, missing his kids, I would try to help him,” Abby said. “Maybe you didn’t kidnap Nathan. But you sent Karl to hang around the Fletcher house. Just to see if the kids were unhappy. If maybe they wanted to come voluntarily. Right?”
“We’ll be asking the rest of your people the same question,” Carver said darkly.
Otis hesitated. “Like I said, Karl did this on his own. But he finally admitted the truth to me. And he did suggest that maybe one of the kids would come voluntarily, so I allowed him to keep a lookout. But never more than that. We only wanted to help David and the kids. Life with their mother couldn’t have been easy.”