Awash (The Forgotten Coast Florida Suspense Series Book 6) (12 page)

F
ifteen minutes later, Maggie and Evan Caldwell walked back out to her Cherokee.

Maggie, with her long, dark hair corralled into an unenthusiastic bun and her jeans with the frayed hems, felt like a tired-looking frump compared to Evan, who looked like he’d just walked off the set of a TV cop show. His white button-down shirt was immaculate, and a green silk tie picked up the color of his eyes. He wore his shield clipped to a black leather belt holding up black trousers, and his black dress shoes were clean and polished to a shine that rivaled his almost-blue black hair.

While Evan climbed into the Jeep, Maggie checked to make sure her navy Sheriff’s Office polo didn’t have any coffee stains in the boob area. She started the Jeep, then tapped Gina Merritt and Stuart Martin’s address into her phone’s GPS before backing out.

“So, as I was saying,” Evan said. “The parents have been divorced for close to fifteen years. The father’s a long-distance trucker living in Kentucky. Apparently, he’s doing penance for something.” He looked down at a small notepad. “No other kids.”

“Any luck with the juvie record?” Maggie asked as she pulled out onto the street.

“Not without a warrant,” Evan answered. “Nobody in the department knows the family, so no anecdotal information to share there.”

“How about the mom? What do we know about her?”

Evan consulted his notes. “Fifty years old, no record other than some unpaid parking tickets,” he said. “RN since 1986. She was a nurse at Gulf Coast Regional for several years, then moved to Port St. Joe and worked at Sacred Heart until 2012. She started working for Harbor Hospice Care the same year.”

Maggie turned onto Monument Avenue, and they made their way through a working class neighborhood, the street lined with neat but simple concrete homes in various tropical shades.

“What’s the deal with the rape charge?” Maggie asked. “How’d the mother talk this girl’s family into not pressing charges?”

“It sounds to me like the girl didn’t want to press charges in the first place,” Evan answered. “The parents were trying to pressure her into it, but she did agree to bring it to the school’s attention. It would have been a hard one. She didn’t even tell the parents; her roommate did. But it was three days after the fact.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t have all the details. They met at a frat party and left together. The girl had had a couple of drinks. He was supposed to be taking her to some club, but they ended up at a city park. She thought maybe he’d roofied her back at the party, because she didn’t remember much about the ride. The kid raped her in the car, then dropped her off at her dorm because he’s a gentleman. She couldn’t make it to the front door, just passed out on the sidewalk, so some other students helped her in.”

“Nice.”

“Yeah. At any rate, the mother whined at the girl and her parents about her son’s mental health issues—”

“What mental health issues?” Maggie asked.

“Depression, therapy since the age of twelve, we don’t care.”

“Okay,” Maggie said.

“The girl and the parents agreed not to press charges as long as the kid left school and went back to therapy. He’s not yet chosen to continue his career as a C student anywhere else, though the complaint is a matter of record and he probably wouldn’t get accepted anywhere anyway.”

“Is he back in therapy?”

“No idea,” Evan answered. “He’s working for a motorcycle parts place over in Panama City. Today’s his day off. I asked one of the patrol cars to do a drive-by just before you got to the office. His Nova was in the driveway.”

“A Nova?” Maggie asked.

“Compensating, no doubt,” Evan said.

Gina Martin’s home looked like most of the other homes on her small side street: neat without having much curb appeal, painted a faded light green. There were a few small hibiscus bushes near the front walk, but the grass looked wan and crispy and could use a mow. An old Buick Skylark and a primer-colored Nova sat in the driveway.

Maggie pulled in behind the Nova, and she and Evan walked to the front door.

“I’ll just be window dressing,” Evan said. “It’s all yours, unless you need me.”

“Okay,” Maggie said.

Gina Merritt answered the doorbell. She was a plain woman, a good thirty pounds overweight, wearing lavender scrubs and flip flops. Maggie flashed her badge.

“Ms. Merritt? I’m Lieutenant Redmond with the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office. We spoke on the phone yesterday.”

The woman’s facial expression changed from quizzical to worried instantly. “Yes?” She glanced over at Evan.

“This is Detective Caldwell with the Port St. Joe Police Department. He’s just here as a courtesy,” Maggie said. “May we come in for a few minutes?”

“What is this about?”

“We’d like to speak with you and your son for a few moments,” Maggie said.

“He’s asleep. What is this about?” she repeated.

“I just need to clear a few things up, get some more information,” Maggie said. “We can do that now, or you and Stuart could come into the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office if that would be more convenient for you.”

“I don’t understand. What does Stuart have to do with anything?” the woman asked, but her eyes were frightened.

“I’d prefer to discuss that inside, with both of you, ma’am, if you wouldn’t mind,” Maggie said, her tone almost friendly. “It’ll just take a few minutes.”

The woman hesitated, seemed to consider her options, then stepped back and opened the door wider for them. Evan followed Maggie into a combination living and dining room, clean and orderly, but decorated in early cat-lady. There was a glass of tea next to a small flowered recliner, and a home shopping channel was on the TV.

“I—do you want me to wake Stuart up?” the woman asked.

“Yes, thank you, ma’am,” Maggie answered kindly.

The woman seemed to flutter for a moment, then picked up a remote from the arm of the recliner and muted the volume. Maggie and Evan watched her walk down a hallway, then stood there and waited, looking around the room.

There were quite a few school pictures of Stuart Martin on the wall and perched on a small bookcase in one corner, but no other artwork. A gray cat sauntered into the room and commenced to scratch at the scarred corner of a faded floral couch. Then it jumped up onto the coffee table, scattering a stack of needlework and Weight Watchers magazines.

Maggie and Evan could hear muffled voices down the hall, first Gina’s, then the tenor, slightly whining tone of her son. A few moments later, Gina walked back into the room, trying not to wring her hands. She was followed by a rumpled looking Stuart, who was wearing gray sweatpants and pulling a navy tank over his head.

Stuart looked more irritated than worried, but the worry was there, too, as he looked from Evan to Maggie. Maggie got a quick up-and-down, with an extra moment spent on her chest. Evan didn’t. Maggie thought about shooting him, but introduced herself instead.

“Mr. Martin, I’m Lt. Redmond from the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office, and this is Detective Caldwell from Port St. Joe PD,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“If we can all take a seat for just a moment, we’d just like to ask you a few questions,” Maggie said.

The mother sat down hard on the couch, but the son remained standing, scratching idly at his unimpressive midriff.

“About what?” he asked.

“Zoe Boatwright,” Maggie said.

“Zoe!” Gina exclaimed. “What about Zoe?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“Could we take a seat, Mr. Martin?” Maggie asked. She gave him half a smile, but it wasn’t all that warm.

“Yeah, whatever,” the kid said. He sat down next to his mother. Maggie sat down in the recliner. Evan sat down in an upholstered chair next to an open sewing basket full of yarn, and leaned his elbows on his knees.

“What does Stuart have to do with Zoe?” the woman demanded, but her voice was trembling.

“I don’t have nothing to do with Zoe,” the kid said.

“What is going on?” his mother asked.

“Zoe was attacked in her home early Sunday morning,” Maggie said.

“Man, I was right here in bed Sunday morning!” Stuart said.

“That’s right,” his mother said. “He came home early Saturday night, and he didn’t get up until late.”

“Ms. Merritt, you said you asked Zoe’s aunt to take her in because the house was too small for the three of you, is that right?”

“Well, yes,” the woman answered.

“Or was it because your son has had some problems with girls?’ Maggie asked.

Gina just stared back at Maggie. Stuart started cracking the knuckle of one finger.

“Stuart was asked to leave the University of Florida because of a date rape complaint,” Maggie continued. “Isn’t that right, Stuart?”

“He was never charged by the police,” the woman said, her voice an octave higher than it had been when she’d answered the door. “The girl didn’t press charges. It was a misunderstanding.”

“Between Stuart and the girl, or Stuart and the law?” Maggie asked.

“I didn’t rape her,” Stuart said, trying for a little defiance in his tone. “She came on to me at the party.”

“According to our information,” Evan said politely, “the girl agreed to go hang out with you. But when you took her to the park, she asked you to stop touching her and to take her to her dorm.”

“That’s what she says,” Stuart said, his lip curling just a bit. “She was into it, man. She was just stoned and drunk.”

“Stoned on what?” Maggie asked.

“How do I know? I don’t do drugs, but there was all kinds of stuff at that party.”

“Stuart doesn’t go to parties like that anymore,” his mother said.

“Stuart probably doesn’t get invited very often,” Maggie said quietly. Stuart looked at Maggie a little less appreciatively. “Ms. Merritt, did you ask Zoe to leave because something happened between her and your son?”

“No!” the woman answered.

“Nothing happened between me and that chick,” Stuart said. “She’s a kid.”

Maggie didn’t look at him, stayed focused on his mother. “Or because you were concerned that something might happen?” she asked her.

“No, that’s not what happened,” Gina said. “It just wasn’t going to work out to have her here, that’s all.”

Maggie caught something out of the corner of her eye, and glanced over at Evan. The cat was sliding itself back and forth across Evan’s ankle. Evan gently swept it aside with his foot.

“Ms. Merritt, I’m a mother. I have a daughter and a son,” Maggie said. “I understand your need to protect your son. But you didn’t do anyone any favors getting him out of trouble in Gainesville, not even him. I believe that you took Zoe in because you’re a good person, and you cared about Zoe. Were you concerned about her being under the same roof with your son?”

“She said no,” Stuart said.

“No,” Gina said, but she wasn’t very convincing. “I just thought it best for her to be with her aunt.”

“Is she saying I did something?” Stuart said.

“No, she isn’t,” Maggie answered. “But you do match the general description we have. We’re exploring all possibilities.” She glanced over at Evan, who was carefully removing one cat hair at a time from his pants leg. She looked back over at Stuart as he piped up.

“That’s bull, man,” Stuart said. “I haven’t seen that girl since she left here.”

“You can clear this up pretty quickly, Stuart, by voluntarily allowing us to get a sample of your DNA. If you haven’t done anything, then you’ll appreciate being able to clear yourself of any suspicion.” She pulled a small labelled packet from her purse. “I have the swab kit right here and it’ll take just a few seconds.”

“No way, lady,” Stuart said. “I didn’t do anything, and I don’t have to give you no DNA.”

“Maybe you should just do it, Stuart,” Gina said. “Then they’ll leave us alone.”

“No,” Stuart said. “Let her get a warrant.”

“It looks better if we don’t have to,” Maggie said.

“I don’t care what it looks like,” he said.

“Stuart,” Gina said.

“Ms. Merritt, maybe you could step out of the room for just a moment,” Evan said politely, as he gently lifted the cat from the arm of his chair and set it on the carpet. “Some things are difficult to discuss in front of your mom.”

“Why?” she asked.

“We’re not here to make your son uncomfortable,” Evan said kindly. “You’re his mother. A woman. Just give us a few moments, please, and we’ll be out of your home.” He glanced at the cat as it hopped back onto the arm of his chair.

Gina thought about this for a moment, then stood.

“I don’t have to talk to you anymore, man,” Stuart said.

“Stuart, just cooperate with these people so they know you didn’t do anything and they’ll go away,” Gina said. She looked at Evan as she started around the coffee table. “I’ll just be on the back patio.”

Maggie watched the woman go out through a set of sliding glass doors at the back of the room, then she looked back at Stuart. He’d been staring at her chest, and he met her eyes with a smirk. She was about to say something when movement from Evan caught her attention.

He dropped the cat into the sewing basket and slapped the lid shut, then stood up. “Listen up, Napoleon,” he said quietly to Stuart. “Cut the swagger. Nobody’s impressed.”