“I’m representing Nick Zabrowski,” she said.
Dwayne shook their hands. “What can I do for you?”
“I’d like to ask your son, Robby, a few questions,” Morgan said.
Dwayne’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
“I’m interviewing all of the kids that attended the lake party on Thursday night.” Morgan smiled.
“He already spoke to the police.” Dwayne shifted his weight onto his heels and crossed thick arms over his chest.
“Yes.” She nodded. “We know. But I need to question everyone involved in the case in order to prove Nick is innocent.”
“The police seem to think he’s guilty,” Dwayne said.
Did Lance hear a slight echo of distrust when Dwayne uttered the word police?
Morgan nodded. “They’ve made a mistake.”
Lance played his card. “It doesn’t seem to concern them that they might have the wrong man.”
Dwayne didn’t bite on the comment, but a flicker of irritation accompanied his almost imperceptible nod.
“Is Robby here?” Morgan’s gaze drifted to the house.
“He is. I suppose if I don’t let you talk to him, you’ll get a subpoena?” Another interesting fact about Dwayne Barone: he knew a thing or two about the law.
“Yes. I wouldn’t have a choice. It’s my job to give Nick the best possible defense.” What Morgan didn’t say is that she’d probably depose Robby if he had anything relevant to say today.
“I’ll get him. Wait here.” Dwayne’s request was clearly an order. He stalked away and went into the house.
“I guess we’re not getting an invite inside,” Lance said. He’d really wanted a look at the family dynamics, a chance to poke around their home.
“No. That’s clear,” Morgan agreed.
Two minutes later, Dwayne returned with Robby in tow. Their relationship could be summed up by the bow of Robby’s head and the hunch of his shoulders. Dwayne stood at the boy’s side, one enormous hand dwarfing the boy’s shoulder. The contact could have been intended as comfort, but Robby seemed cowed.
“Hi, Robby.” Morgan introduced herself and Lance. “I’m representing Nick.”
“I know who you are,” Robby mumbled.
“Mind your manners.” Dwayne’s fingers tightened, and a brief wince crossed Robby’s face before he smoothed it over.
“I need to ask you a few questions,” Morgan said.
Robby lifted his eyes. There was no sign of cockiness in them, only defeat and humiliation. “Yes, ma’am.”
“When did you arrive at the party?” She began with routine facts to get the interview warmed up. Robby’s answer agreed with everyone else’s.
“Tell me what happened between Jacob and Nick.” Morgan’s head tilted. If Dwayne hadn’t been there, intimidating the hell out of his son, her gentle voice and demeanor would have encouraged Robby to talk.
But Dwayne was there, with his anvil-size hand as a constant reminder of whatever order he’d given his son.
“I don’t know.” Robby’s eyes drifted to his left sneaker.
He knows plenty.
“You saw the video, right?” Morgan prompted. Smart of her not to inform Dwayne that Robby had been the one to show the video to Lance.
“Yeah,” Robby admitted. “Jacob and Nick got into it.” His voice sharpened when he said Jacob.
“But you don’t know what started the altercation?” Morgan asked.
“No.” Robby shook his head, purposefully avoiding eye contact. “I wasn’t close enough to hear.”
Liar.
Robby’s pants should have burst into flames.
“Did you see Nick and Tessa after the fight?” Morgan asked.
Dwayne’s fingers moved, ever so slightly, but Lance didn’t miss the boy’s very small flinch.
“No.” Robby’s jaw tightened. Tears moistened his eyes.
Morgan tried a few more questions, but Robby refused to admit knowing anything else, like who had left the party at what time, or who had been the last person to see Tessa alive.
“I can’t tell you anything else.” The boy’s gaze lifted. For a few seconds, his stare burned with anger.
“Thank you, Robby. I really appreciate that you tried.” Morgan gave the boy an understanding smile.
Robby’s head bobbed once in acknowledgment.
The slap of wood on wood sounded as loud as a gunshot. Everyone turned toward the house. Two slim redheaded girls carried baskets of laundry toward a clothesline. They wore the same type of below-the-knee, shapeless cotton dress that their mother had worn when Lance had first come to the house.
“Get back inside,” Dwayne barked at them.
They paused for a split second, their eyes opening wide, and then turned and bolted for the house. A few items of wet clothing fell from the smaller girl’s basket.
Morgan shot Dwayne a frown, then quickly lifted the corners of her mouth into a forced and tight smile. “Thank you very much for your cooperation, Mr. Barone.”
Dwayne nodded, his eyes hard.
Lance felt Dwayne’s eyes on his back all the way back to the Jeep.
He slid behind the wheel, closed the vehicle door, and started the engine. “How old were those girls?”
“About twelve and fourteen.” Morgan fastened her seatbelt. “And they’re terrified of Dwayne.”
“I think everyone that lives in that house is terrified of him.” Lance steered the Jeep onto the main road and drove away from the farm, his fingers tight on the wheel. Robby wasn’t a Boy Scout, but he didn’t deserve his father’s treatment.
“Why was it such a big deal for the girls to be outside while we were there?” Morgan asked.
“I don’t know, but I think we should find out.”
“There’s no love lost between father and son.” Morgan turned her head to glance at the farmhouse through the rear window. “The kids we’ve seen take after their mother, very small and slim . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“While Dwayne looks like a retired WWE star.” Lance finished her thought. “Dwayne has to be disappointed in his son. His only boy is a ninety-eight-pound weakling.”
“Dwayne’s a bully,” Morgan said.
“How old is he again?” Lance asked.
“Fifty.”
“And Ivy is thirty-six?”
“Yes.”
“How old was she when they married?”
“Oh. She must have been young.” Morgan scrolled on her phone. “She was seventeen when they married, and Dwayne was thirty-one.” Morgan looked up.
“What did you think of thirty-one-year-old men when you were seventeen?” Lance asked.
“At seventeen, anyone over the age of twenty-five was gross,” Morgan said.
Lance made a right at a stop sign. “Not only did Ivy marry very young, she had her first baby within a year.”
“I don’t know what to think about that.” Morgan tapped a finger on her lower lip. “Or how it might be relevant to Tessa’s death. I’d like to know if Tessa knew Dwayne.”
“When I spoke with Mrs. Barone, she said that Tessa had been the same age as her oldest daughter.”
“I wonder if Tessa ever paid a visit to the farm.”