Say You're Sorry Page 38
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to understand what happened.” Morgan nodded. “Jacob, did you consume alcohol at the party?”
Jacob’s gaze dropped to the table. Real shame or fake? “I had a couple of beers.”
“Do you think your judgment was impaired?” Morgan asked.
Mr. Emerson leaned forward. “Please be specific, Ms. Dane. Exactly what do you mean by impaired?”
“Did you fight with Nick because you were drunk?” Morgan asked.
“I fought with Nick because he attacked me.” Jacob’s enunciation sharpened with irritation. Finally, a reaction.
“And all you said to Tessa was hello?” Morgan pressed.
But Mr. Emerson butted in. “Already stated.”
Jacob’s expression shuttered, his father’s interruption giving him time to smooth the annoyance from his face.
Morgan returned to her list. “What did Tessa and Nick do next?”
“They left.” Jacob’s voice had returned to its monotone.
“Did they drive or walk?” she asked.
He answered without moving. “They drove.”
“His car or hers?”
“His.” For a guy who said he wasn’t interested in Tessa, Jacob had been watching her every move.
“Tell me how the rest of the night played out.” Morgan set down her pen and watched him.
“I stayed at the party for a while, then I went home.” Jacob was going to make her drag every answer from him.
“Did you see Nick and Tessa again that night?”
“Yes. They came back to the party later,” Jacob answered. “They argued.”
“Did Nick leave before Tessa?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention.” Jacob returned to his fallback position.
Morgan pretended to check her notes. “Tell me about your relationship with Tessa.”
Jacob shrugged. “We didn’t have a relationship. We dated a couple of times last spring, but we weren’t into each other. I’ve known her for years. My relationship with Tessa was more brother-sister.”
Mr. Emerson’s smile was sad. “My wife and Tessa’s grandmother thought they would make a handsome couple.”
“So you hadn’t spent much time with Tessa in the past few months?” Morgan clarified.
Jacob shrugged. “Not really.”
Morgan closed her notebook. “That’s all the questions I have for you right now, Jacob, unless there’s anything else you want to tell me?”
He shook his head.
“Then thank you both for making time to see us this afternoon.” Morgan rose and offered them both her hand. Lance, Mr. Emerson, and Jacob stood when she did.
The maid showed them out. Morgan waited until they were in the car. “Well?”
Lance started the Jeep and pulled away from the curb. “I don’t trust that kid. I didn’t feel sincerity coming from him. How did his answers match up to his police interview?”
“This is from Jacob’s police statement.” She cleared her throat and read. “Nick and Tessa arrived at the lake. I said hello to her. She said hi back. Nick jumped between us and told me to stay away from her. He shoved me. I shoved back. We exchanged a few punches. It was over quickly. Nick and Tessa left. I stayed for another hour or so, and then went home.”
“That sounds like what he said today.”
“It is exactly the same statement. Word for word.”
“So? His dad is a lawyer. Of course he coached him.”
“You’re right. I should have expected it.” Morgan stuffed the notebook into her bag. “Do you still have the video of the fight on your phone?”
“Yes.” He handed it to her and gave her his passcode.
“When I interviewed Nick, he said that he punched Jacob because Jacob knocked Tessa down when she tried to break up the fight.” Morgan pulled up the video and played it. She watched the scene play out exactly the way Nick described. “Jacob conveniently left that out of his version.”
“He has a very selective memory.”
“You picked up on that too?”
“Yes.” Lance drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel. “He remembered everything that made Nick look guilty.”
“Omitting something from his statement isn’t the same as lying. Mr. Emerson provided Jacob with an alibi, and his phone records back that up, which is why I didn’t bother asking him about it. There goes our opportunity. We have no motive.”
“Jealousy?” Lance suggested.
“We have no evidence that Jacob wanted Tessa for himself.”
“So where to next?” Lance asked.
She checked her messages. “I still haven’t heard from Felicity.” Since she already had a connection with Felicity, Morgan had called the girl directly. She consulted her notes. “That puts Robby Barone on the top of our to-question list.”
Lance frowned. “The Barone place gave me the willies. Maybe I should go there alone or take Sharp.”
“Or perhaps I should go there alone. Mrs. Barone might be more willing to talk to another woman.”
“No.”
Morgan shifted her attention from her notes to Lance’s profile. “Excuse me?”
Lance pulled over to the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out so authoritatively.”
“I should hope not,” Morgan said dryly. “You know I have plenty of experience with criminal investigations? I take care, but I also do my job.”
Lance turned his shoulders to face her. “I already stopped there to talk to Robby Barone once and got a very bad feeling about the place.”
“What kind of bad feeling?”
“Like both Robby and Mrs. Barone were afraid that the mister would come home while I was there.”
“Maybe they’re scared of him,” she said.
“And afraid of him discovering them talking to me.”
Morgan considered the options. “If she was nervous because her husband is the jealous type, then a visit with another female is less likely to cause friction.” Morgan mentally reviewed the police interview reports. Robby had been briefly questioned at the bowling alley. Horner had never brought him down to the station for a more formal interview. Clearly, the police didn’t think Robby had anything exciting to add to the statements they’d already taken.
“We’ll go together.” Lance pulled back onto the road. “Can you text Sharp and let him know where we’re going? If we never come back, at least he’ll know where to look for our bodies.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lance drove toward the Barone place. He still didn’t like taking Morgan there, but he was going to have to put a leash on his inner guard dog. She’d been a prosecutor for six years. She knew her business, and the Barones wouldn’t be the first hostile witnesses she’d interviewed.
“What do we have in background information on the Barones?” he asked.
Morgan took a file from her giant bag, flipped through some pages, and began to read. “I’ll summarize. No one at the Barone house has a criminal record. Robby, or Robert William Barone, is the second of six kids. He turned sixteen four months ago. His license was issued on his birthday. He has one older sister and four younger ones. The oldest is eighteen. The youngest is eight.”
“Six kids in ten years?”