I've Got My Eyes on You(47)

“I’m her friend.”

“I know that Jamie, and sometimes friends can hurt our feelings. When she didn’t invite you, were you mad at Kerry?”

“I was sad.”

“What do you do when you’re sad?”

“I go to my room and watch tapes and DVDs.”

Mike decided to change course. “Jamie, do you know Alan Crowley?”

“My mom and I saw him on TV. He kissed Kerry and went home.”

“Then what happened, Jamie?”

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

“Do you know who Big Guy is?”

Jamie smiled broadly. “My dad called me Big Guy.”

“Jamie, did you hit Kerry?”

“No.”

“Did you push her in the pool?”

“No. Big Guy did.”

“Jamie, are you Big Guy?”

“Yes.”

“Are you the Big Guy who hit Kerry and pushed her in the pool?”

“I’m Big Guy. Big Guy hit Kerry and pushed her in the pool.”

“Jamie, you’re a Big Guy. Is there anybody else who’s a Big Guy?”

There were footsteps on the stairs. Marge pushed open the door and came in, with Nerlino trailing behind her. “You have no right to keep me away from my son,” she said.

She went over and sat beside Jamie. “Are you all right, dear?”

“I told him the secret. You said it was all right.”

Marge’s glare at Mike Wilson was steely.

Mike stood up. “Mrs. Chapman, as I told you earlier, we have a warrant to search these premises.” He looked at Jamie’s feet. “Are those your new sneakers, Jamie?”

“Yes. Do you like them?”

“Yes, I do. I’m going to need to borrow them for a few days.”

“That’s okay,” Jamie said. While looking at his mother for approval, he removed his sneakers.

“Jamie, do you remember what clothes you were wearing the night you went swimming with Kerry after her party?”

“Yes, I do. My mom bought the shirt for me.”

“Can I see it?”

“Sure,” Jamie said as he walked over to the dresser and opened and closed two drawers. “Mom bought it in Disneyworld,” he said proudly as he unfolded it and showed it to the detective.

“Do you remember which pants you wore when you went in the pool with Kerry?”

Jamie appeared confused as he looked in his closet. “I have a lot of pants.”

“That’s okay, Jamie. So that’s the shirt you wore in the pool when you went swimming with Kerry?”

“Yes,” he said smiling. “It’s dry now.”

“Did you wash it, Jamie?”

“No, my mom did.”

Tony Carter had said that on the Sunday morning he and Jamie talked at the Acme, Jamie had told him that he wasn’t wearing his new sneakers because they had gotten wet.

“Jamie, this is Detective Nerlino. Would you bring the shirt and sneakers downstairs? He’s going to give you a bag to put them in.”

“Okay,” Jamie said as he followed Nerlino out of the room.

When they were alone, Marge went on the defensive. “You can ask Father Frank. I was planning to call the police and tell them what Jamie saw. The lawyer Father Frank got for Jamie and me is in Atlanta. I was going to talk to you after I spoke to him in two days. Father Frank is going with me to see the lawyer. Then we can talk.”

“Mrs. Chapman, let me be clear. Are you saying that you and Jamie have an attorney?”

“Yes, we have one.”

“It’s your right to have one.”

“I want to talk to him before Jamie or I talk any more to you.”

“Okay. There will be no more questions today, but we will be executing the search warrant.”

Jamie yelled from downstairs. “It was okay to tell them our secret, right, Mom?”

“Yes, Jamie, it was all right,” Marge called back.

Her tone was weary, and she was short of breath as she came down the stairs.

The phone rang. It was Father Frank. “Marge, I’m just calling to check in and make sure you are okay.”





60




For Marge, the two days before attorney Greg Barber returned from Atlanta were interminable. She had told Father Frank that Detective Wilson had insisted on talking to Jamie without her being in the room. “I don’t know what Jamie told him or how the detective could have twisted it,” she said, “but I’m so frightened.”

“Marge, the appointment with Greg Barber is the day after tomorrow at ten o’clock. I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty and we’ll ride over together. Greg is a top-drawer defense lawyer. I can assure you of that. I know you’ll feel better after you speak to him.”

Jamie intuitively knew she was upset. Three or four times he asked her, “Mom, are you mad at me because I told our secret? Mike said it was all right.”

“I’m not angry at you, Jamie,” Marge repeated each time. When he asked her that, it reminded her of how trusting he always is, and how easily he could be led when questioned.

As he had promised, Father Frank picked her up promptly at 9:30. “Greg Barber’s office is around the corner from the courthouse,” he explained.