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“Does she have a lot of friends?” I ask. “A boyfriend?”
Diane’s eyes narrow dangerously. “She has a myriad of friends, Detective Malone. I don’t see what this—”
“And her boyfriend?” I insist. “Has he been supportive these last few days?”
Caught, she sits back in her chair and regards us.
I’m the enemy in her world. The threat upon that protected sanctity of home she desires. First, Kyle broke that safe space. And now, here I am. Ready to tear it apart.
“How did you know, Detective?”
“How did I know you killed your husband?” I take the piece of paper Lori wrote on and open it up to read two names. Cary. And Grayson… a seventeen-year-old basketball player. The star of his team, much like his father was.
“I have a niece, Diane. A little girl I would kill for.” I don’t mention that the little girl’s father sits right beside me. I don’t bring those details to this meeting. “We’re not on the record in here, by the way.” I lift my hands to show her they’re empty. “I haven’t read you your Miranda rights yet, so none of this is official. That’s why I can let you know that I would kill for my niece. I would kill for my wife. I would kill for anyone I consider my family. You’ll recall that, when I met you, and when we were discussing Kyle Andrews, I was taking notes. Your relationship. Your children. I could tell from our conversation that you were a mother who would do anything for her children.”
“When did you realize your husband carried more than one name?” Fletch catches on and carries the metaphorical ball. “When did you realize he was a cheat?”
“My daughter…” Her chest heaves with a single, wrenching sob that tears at my heart. “He ruined her life. She won’t ever get over this.”
“Your daughter met a boy, didn’t she?” I ask. “A basketball player who was handsome and sweet.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Diane literally plugs her ears and shakes her head. “I don’t want to hear it.”
“She and Grayson could bond over the fact their moms were awesome, and their dads were mostly absent.”
“Stop it,” she cries. “Please stop it.”
“Does she know yet?” Fletch wonders. “Does she know she was dating her own half-brother?”
“I said stop it!” She shoves up from her chair so the legs scrape on the floor. “Please stop it. It’s sick! It’s horrible, and he did that to her!Kyledid that to her!”
“He had four families.” I sit back in my seat and watch her pace. Watch her excise her demons. “He procreated and didn’t give a shit that he had all these kids in the same city.”
“I don’t think he intended for them to meet,” she whimpers. “He certainly didn’t make the introduction himself.”
“But Lauren got a little notoriety for her sporting ability, and with that comes jock boys who like to sniff around. Grayson thought she was beautiful.”
“I met him,” she cries. “I met that boy, and I knew!”
“So you forbade them from seeing each other?” I guess. “You told Lauren no, and then you went hunting for the truth.”
“I knew Grayson’s name, so I followed the trail until I found that family. Just a few miles from our own, he had a whole other family!”
“Did you conspire with Lori Wilson to murder your husband?” Fletch demands. “Did you do this together?”
“No.” She crushes her hands to her face, and groans like she’s in physical pain. “No, I didn’t say anything.”
“What about Roberta McArthur?” I ask. “Was she a part of this?”
“No. Yes,” she adds on an afterthought, then, “No,” again. “I found her,” she admits. “I asked her about her husband. She has a child too, so I wanted to make sure she was aware.”
“And she didn’t care,” I surmise. “She was apathetic at best.”
“She was… uninterested. She’s not a bad person or anything, and I’m not mad at her. I only wanted her to know, so her son doesn’t end up like my daughter.”
“Did you share with her your intention to kill your husband?” I ask firmly. “Was she aware of what was coming?”
“No. When I told her I’d found out he was cheating, she seemed… I dunno. Accepting of it. So I walked away and said nothing.”
