“My name is Detective Tran. This is my partner, Detective Consuelo,” he said, gesturing to the woman beside him. “We’d like a word with Steven, if you’d like to step outside.” The detective’s name was familiar. Mike Tran was the name on the business card Brendan had given me, the one he’d said was handling Mrs. Haggerty’s case.
I thought about reaching for my phone to call my sister, but something in the officers’ postures told me that wouldn’t be a wise idea.
“What the hell is this about?” Steven asked, glaring at both of them.
“We’d like you to come with us to the station,” Detective Tran suggested casually. “We have some questions for you about the victim who was found on this property.”
Steven’s eyes flashed. “You can ask me right here.”
“If that’s what you’d prefer.”
The detective’s indulgent tone set off warning bells inside me. I took Steven’s arm to keep him from saying anything else. The number of officers who’d arrived to provide backup for this conversation told me this meeting was far from casual. “Maybe you should call a lawyer,” I urged him in a low voice.
“I don’t need a lawyer! I don’t know anything about the guy.”
“Are you sure about that?” Detective Tran asked. He carried himself with the confidence of a seasoned detective, the silver at his temples and crow’s feet around his eyes suggesting he had all the time in the world to make this uncomfortable for both of us. “Let me jog your memory,” he said, pulling a few photographs from his breast pocket. He held one of them up. “This is Gilford Dupree. His body was found two weeks ago behind this house, under a rose garden thatwas installed five years ago, the same week Gilford’s wife reported him missing.” Detective Tran sauntered closer, his eyes never leaving Steven’s.
Steven’s hands clenched at his sides. A muscle worked in his jaw as he glanced at the photo. “I don’t see what any of this has to do with me.”
“I’ve spent the last two weeks trying to find a tie between Mr. Dupree and this house,” the detective said. “I investigated all the neighbors. I checked into every possible connection between Dupree and the Haggerty family, and you know what I came up with?” He waited a breath. “Nothing. But I did find something else—a receipt for a landscaping project with your name on it.” He wagged a finger at Steven as his temple began to glisten with sweat. “That receipt got me thinking about people who work in the dirt for a living—about how convenient it might be for someone like that to bury a body. Someone strong. Someone with the tools to do it. Like an excavator. Or a landscaper. Or even a farmer,” he said, looking Steven dead in the eyes.
My blood went cold. Detective Tran didn’t say another word. He didn’t have to. The subtext was clear: Steven owned a sod farm—the same farm where five bodies had been exhumed last fall. Steven had been cleared of any suspicion in that case, but Detective Tran didn’t appear convinced of that.
“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re talking about.” Steven seethed, pointing a hard finger toward the backyard. “Sure, I installed their damn rose garden. But I never killed anyone. I never even met that Dupree guy.”
Detective Tran held up another photo. “Maybe you knew his wife.”
I didn’t think Steven could get any paler than he was when the detectives first walked through that door, but now he looked ill.
“What is he talking about?” I asked him in a low voice.
Steven and Detective Tran exchanged a look so long it felt like a dare. “You sure you wouldn’t prefer to have the rest of this conversation at the station?” the detective asked him.
“Do I have a choice?”
“I’ll give you two a minute,” Detective Tran said to Steven. “When you’re ready to go, we’ll be waiting right outside.”
The officers filed out, hovering close to the house. Radios squawked in the driveway. I whirled to my ex-husband as they watched us through the windows. “Jesus, Steven! Did you sleep with Gilford Dupree’s wife?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why are they taking you in?”
“I don’t know!” He dragged a hand through his sweating hairline as he paced. “I might have delivered some mulch to her house a few years ago, but I swear to god I didn’t sleep with her, Finn!”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, careful to keep my voice down. “Don’t say a word to anyone. I’ll call a lawyer.” I had no idea if Steven was telling the truth, but now wasn’t the time to take any chances.
“Call Guy. Tell him to meet me at the station.”
Guy had been Steven’s fraternity brother in college and, more recently, the ruthless family law attorney who had handled Steven’s side of our divorce. He was a shark when it came to custody agreements and weaseling his clients out of child support, but he definitely was not qualified to handle a situation like this. “Guy specializes in divorces, Steven. He doesn’t do criminal law.”
“Doesn’t matter, because I’m not a criminal.”
“I’ll ask him for a referral.”
“I don’t want a referral. Guy can represent me.”
“He’s too close to be objective. I’ll find you someone else.”
