“Oh, shit is right,” Jessica agreed drily.“Mind if we come in?”
Welling hesitated, looking past the two of them as though trying to see if anyone was watching.After a few seconds, he shrugged and said, “Sure.Might as well get this over with.”
He trudged inside, and Faith and Jessica shared a look, then followed.Considering the strong odor of alcohol wafting from Welling, his apartment was surprisingly clean.The furniture was modest but comfortable, and the television small but bright and flanked by a nice set of speakers from a high-quality brand.
What really stood out about the place, however, were the photos and displays covering his walls.Men and women ranging in age from twenty to thirty or so, all in Marine Corps uniforms.Some of the photos were bright glossy images on dark backgrounds, and the subjects were wearing full dress blues.Others were grainy, washed-out prints of grimy Marines in battle fatigues standing in front of vehicles or prefab buildings, clearly taken on deployment.
Besides the photos were framed folded flags, medals encased in glass, trinkets like bracelets, a small stuffed frog keychain, and a flyer for something called the CALABASAS COUNTY COWBOY COWABUNGA.Welling had turned his living room into a shrine for his fallen comrades.
“Okay,” he said, settling heavily into an ancient recliner that creaked in protest at his weight.“Go ahead and ask your questions.”
“We’ll start with an easy one,” Jessica said.“Did you kill Robert Hayes?”
“No.Gee, that was easy.Next one.”
“Can you verify your whereabouts this morning at six?”
“No.That was also easy.Next one.”
“Where were you?”Faith asked.
“Here.”
“But you can’t prove that.”
“That’s what verify means, right?”
Faith and Jessica shared another look.The fact that Welling didn’t have an alibi didn’t confirm that he was the killer, but his cavalier approach to their questions concerned Faith.Either he was too confident and didn’t think they could pin this on him, or he didn’t care what happened to him, in which case there was little stopping him from killing Hayes.
“Mr.Welling, to be clear, we suspect that you might have murdered Chaplain Hayes.”
“Yeah, I figured that when you asked, ‘Did you kill Robert Hayes?’.”
“Your blunt admission that you have no alibi this morning coupled with the recorded altercation you had with him last week makes you appear very suspicious,” Faith said.
Welling chuckled.“Well, I appreciate you being blunt.”
“You want to talk to us about that altercation?”Faith prompted.
“There was noaltercation,” he said, emphasizing the word.“I yelled at him.Called him a liar, which he is, and a false prophet, which he is.”
His eyes strayed to one of the pictures on his wall, a young woman with a spectacular smile and dark brown eyes as smooth as chocolate.His lower lip trembled, and he pressed both lips together firmly.
“You had to be removed by security,” Faith reminded him.
“Yeah, they don’t like when big, strong almost middle-aged men shout at small, weak old men.But I never touched him.I never touched anyone.That security guard was being a little bitch.”
Faith and Jessica shared a dry look, and Jessica said, “May I ask why you started an argument with Mr.Hayes?”
Welling’s eyes moved to the picture of the young woman again.“You ever seen someone die, agent?”
“Yes,” Jessica responded.
“How’d you like it?”
“It wasn’t the highlight of my life,” Jessica replied warily.
“It sucks,” Faith said bluntly.“It’s awful.The first time it happens, your mind refuses to accept what it’s seeing.The next few times, it’s like having a fork scraped across an open wound.Eventually, scar tissue grows around your heart, and you can function despite watching it happen, but it still gnaws at you.It’s a constant ache that every now and then flares up into debilitating pain.”
