All the Dark Places(64)



“What about Dr. Bradley?”

“I’m not sure. I went to bed shortly after Molly did, so I guess I was next.”

“Pretty early, huh?” Joe says. “Where did you sleep?”

“Show us on the diagram, please,” I say.

She gets up and walks to the easel. It takes her a minute to orient herself. “Here. This upstairs bedroom.”

“You go right to sleep?” Joe asks.

“No. I read for a while.”

“When did your husband come up?”

“I think it was around eleven.”

“Were you still awake?”

“Yes.”

“You or he leave the bedroom all night?”

Her eyes open wide. “No. We went to sleep.”

“You hear anything in the night? Anything at all?” I tap my pencil against my notebook.

“Oh, wait. I did get up. I heard cars driving by the house.”

“What time was that?” Joe leans forward.

“Um, around midnight, I think. The people up the road had a big party. People were coming and going all day.” She puts a hand to her mouth. “Do you think someone from the party killed that woman?”

“Maybe,” I say. “You hear anything else?”

“No. I went downstairs for a glass of water.”

“At midnight?”

“Yes.”

“Was anyone else up downstairs?” Joe clicks the top of his pen.

“Jay was. I saw the light on in the den, so I peeked in. Jay was drinking coffee, working on his laptop.”

My heart starts to pound. “Did you speak with Dr. Bradley?”

“A little. He said he was just finishing up. He was going to bed shortly.”

“Then what happened?”

She shakes her head. “I got my drink and went back upstairs.”

“Was anyone else awake?”

“Not that I noticed. The house was dark.”

I add to my notes and sketch of the mountain house. “Did you hear any more cars go by?”

“Maybe. I don’t remember.”

Joe leans forward. “Did you fall back asleep right away?”

“I think so. I don’t remember lying awake too long.”

“In the morning, was everyone there?” I ask.

She frowns like where else would they be? “Yes. We all left at around eight. Everybody wanted to get back. Pick up our kids.”

“Everything seem normal in the morning?” Joe asks. “Anything odd that you remember?”

“No. Nothing.”

Joe and I exchange a glance. “Okay, Mrs. Pearson. Thank you.” I walk her out to the waiting room and beckon to Mr. Pearson before they can talk to each other and compare notes.

Pearson is back to his obnoxious self as he runs through the week at the Mountclair house. His rendition doesn’t vary from his wife’s. He slept soundly through the night of the Fourth, so he says. Didn’t mention his wife getting up for that drink of water.

“What about this bar incident when you were twenty-three?” I ask, glancing through a file folder.

His face goes blank, and he blinks his eyes. “What?”

“You were arrested for a bar fight, right?” I hold up the report.

“Jesus Christ. Yes. Okay? I was a dumbass kid, for crying out loud. It was no big deal.”

Joe clears his throat, stabs the table with his index finger. “You choked a woman. Wouldn’t let her leave.”

Pearson wipes a hand over his mouth. “My ex-girlfriend. She was a fatal attraction and a freaking liar. She came into the bar just to pick a fight with me. She made a big scene. Some jerk got involved, and we threw a few punches. That’s it. The bouncer called 911.”

“You never touched her?” Joe asks, raises his eyebrows.

Pearson shrugs. “She attacked me.”

“She went to the ER. There are pictures.” Joe’s voice is throaty. He’s a whisper away from angry.

Pearson hits the table with his fist. “I just tried to get her off me, that’s all. It was no big deal.” He looks at me. “What does this have to do with anything? I paid a fine. That’s it.”

“We’re just looking at everything.” I make some notes. “Got a bit of a temper, do we?”

His face reddens. “For fuck’s sake,” he says under his breath.

“What was that?” Joe asks.

“Nothing. Okay? I didn’t kill that girl in Mountclair if that’s what you’re getting at. And I sure as hell never hurt Jay. Are we done here?”

“You sure you never left the house that night?” I ask. “Went looking for a little fun. Seems like a pretty dull time at the house. You didn’t decide to ride into town for a drink maybe?”

“No. I didn’t fucking leave the house that night.”

“Just one more thing. You want to give us a DNA sample?” He has no idea we don’t have DNA from the scene to compare his to, but hopefully we will soon.

He jumps to his feet. “No, I don’t want to give you a DNA sample. Can I go?”

Joe and I exchange glances. “Okay, Mr. Pearson. We’ll be talking to you again.”

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

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