I've Got My Eyes on You(30)

“There is no way in the world my son committed this crime. He loved Kerry. The only reason he went back to her house the night of her party was to help her clean up and make sure she was all right. The police scared the hell out of a kid who had just turned eighteen. They snatched him from our home on a Sunday morning when my husband and I were not home, drove him to the Prosecutor’s Office, interrogated him and intimidated him into lying. And now they’re saying because he lied, he must have killed her.”

She was interrupted by a visibly annoyed Lester Parker, who took June’s arm and physically moved her away from the microphone. He stated firmly, “A vigorous defense will be mounted on behalf of Alan Crowley. When all the facts are known, he will be vindicated. There will be no further statements from the Crowleys before the trial.”

An awkward silence followed when the news station moved on to the next story.

Brenda said, “The meatloaf, vegetables and potatoes just need to be warmed.” She gave Alan a sympathetic smile. “I’ll let you eat in peace,” she said as she hurried toward the door.





38




Marge and Jamie were having dinner in the kitchen when Marge turned on the television to get the six o’clock news. The lead story was the arraignment of Alan Crowley. She watched as Alan, pale and tense, left the courthouse with photographers and reporters chasing after him.

“That’s Alan Crowley,” Jamie said.

“I didn’t know you knew Alan,” Marge said.

“He’s Kerry’s friend, before she went to Heaven.”

“Yes, he is.”

“He kisses her.”

“Yes, he does,” Marge said.

“He kissed her before she went swimming and went to Heaven.”

“Jamie, are you talking about the night of Kerry’s party, when you went swimming with her?”

“I promised not to talk about that.”

“This time it’s okay, Jamie. What did Alan do after he kissed Kerry?”

“He gave her a hug and went home.”

“Then what happened, Jamie?”

“The Big Guy hit Kerry and he pushed her in the pool.”

“Jamie, are you sure?”

“Cross my heart. Daddy used to call me Big Guy, right, Mom?”

“Yes, Jamie, that’s right. But remember, we don’t talk to anybody about what happened the night Kerry went to Heaven. That’s our secret.”

“Cross my heart, Mom. I didn’t tell anyone.”

Following his usual routine, after dinner Jamie went upstairs to watch television. Heavy hearted, Marge stayed at the kitchen table and made herself another pot of tea. She was starkly aware of what Jamie had told her. If Jamie was describing what he saw the night Kerry was killed, then Kerry was still alive when Alan left. Might Alan have come back and killed Kerry? I guess that’s possible, she thought, but why would he do that? The Big Guy Jamie is referring to clearly is not Alan. But who is it?

If Jamie talks about the Big Guy to the detective, and Jamie tells him Jack used to call him the Big Guy, they might assume he was talking about himself. I can only imagine how the Crowleys are feeling right now. How would I feel if Jamie got arrested? He’d be so frightened. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know what to do.





39




Detective Mike Wilson had not been able to put his mind at rest. He was deeply distressed that he had not been to able tie up a troubling loose end in the investigation.

He had virtually no information that would lead them to the man who had sold Kerry the beer and then tried to force himself on her. According to Kerry’s friend who had told him about the incident, he had suggested meeting Kerry at her house after the party was over.

Suppose he had come over after Alan left. He had already been aggressive with Kerry. If she refused him again, might he have become violent?

There was one way they might possibly get a lead on him.

The next day Mike called Aline at work. “Aline, even though Alan has been charged, I still need to do a few things to complete the investigation, and you might be able to help me.”

“Of course,” Aline said.

“I’d like to meet and talk to you quietly for a few minutes.”

“Sure. Do you want to come to the house?”

“No. This is a conversation I would rather have with you alone.”

“When do you have in mind?”

“By any chance are you free tonight?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’d like to get a little away from Saddle River, where we both could be recognized.”

They agreed to meet at a diner on Old Hook Road in Westwood.

When Aline arrived promptly at 5:30, Mike waved to her from the corner booth. She slid in opposite him.

“After I spoke to you, it occurred to me that you’d probably prefer to go to a place for a glass of wine versus a cup of coffee,” he said.

“To be honest, that would have been my first choice. As it is, I drink too much coffee.”

Mike smiled. “Aline, the next building over is an Irish pub that just opened. We wouldn’t even have to move our cars. Do you want to walk over there?”

“Sounds great to me.”

Five minutes later they were sitting in O’Malley’s, at a table in the corner of the bar. Aline took her first sip of Pinot Grigio while Mike took a drink from his beer.