But if Jamie told that to the police, they would compare him to Alan Crowley. Alan was medium height and on the thin side. Jamie was six feet, one inch, and not fat but broad. Sometime he calls himself “Big Guy,” Marge thought. If he says this to the police, they might think that “the Big Guy” Jamie was describing was actually Jamie himself. If they believe that, they might arrest him.
He’d be so frightened. He’s so easily manipulated. He always wants to please. He’ll happily say anything they want to hear.
Marge felt again the familiar tightness in her chest. Her doctor had warned her to take a nitroglycerin tablet whenever that happened. By the end of the day she had taken three tablets.
Dear God, don’t let anything happen to me, she begged. He needs me now more than ever.
21
Mike’s next stops were the homes of the four girls who had texted Kerry after the party. Each set of their parents had agreed to allow their daughter to talk.
He rang the bell of Betsy Finley and met her and her parents. He was invited to come into the living room. Betsy sat on a couch, wedged between her parents. Wilson settled into a chair opposite the couch.
He began by saying, as Detective Harsh had said during his interviews, that he had no intention of arresting anyone solely for drinking or having any drugs, but that it was very important that Betsy be honest with him. He emphasized that his only interest was in finding out what had happened to Kerry.
He tried to make his questions sound casual. After Betsy sheepishly admitted that she had one or two vodkas, they established what time Betsy got to the party and what time she left. Wilson asked, “Were there any fights or disagreements at the party?”
Of course, Betsy immediately told him that Alan and Kerry had an argument because Kerry and Chris Kobel were flirting with each other. And after the quarrel, Alan left before anyone else. She told Mike that everyone else left in a group because Kerry wanted them all out by eleven o’clock.
The interview turned out to be simply a verification of what Mike knew from the texts and his interview of Alan.
His final question was “Do you know who brought in the beer and vodka?” It drew a shake of Betsy’s head.
“It was already there when I arrived, and I was the first one to get to the party.”
Similar answers came from the next two girls who had texted Kerry. The one who’d sent the “Dump Alan” text heatedly exclaimed that Alan wasn’t just upset or annoyed; he was ballistic.
It was the last girl who had texted Kerry after the party who proved the most valuable to Mike. When he asked her who brought the liquor to the party, her answer was “Kerry told me that the guy who fixed the flat tire on her car had told her that anytime she had a party, he could get her whatever alcohol she wanted.”
Mike did not show any change of expression. “Do you know the name of the guy who fixed the flat?”
“I don’t.”
“Did Kerry describe him or say where she met him?”
“I think she got the flat on Route 17 in Mahwah, and he pulled over to help.”
“Did she say where she met him to get the alcohol for the party?”
“No, but she did tell me that when she met him to pick it up, he put it in her trunk. Then when she closed the trunk, he asked her if he could come to the party. She told him it was just for her high school friends. There wouldn’t be anybody his age there. Kerry said this guy was about twenty-five. Then he said, ‘Well, maybe we can get together after your friends go home.’ Of course, she said no. Then he grabbed her and started kissing her.”
“Did she ever describe this guy to you?”
“No. Right after she told him to get lost, she told me she got in her car and drove off.”
“So she didn’t say where she met him to pick up the alcohol?”
“I don’t think she did. I can’t remember.”
He looked at her parents. “I’m very grateful to have had this opportunity to talk with your daughter.”
He said goodbye and left to go back to his car. As he drove away, he could only think about the fact that there might just be yet another potential suspect in Kerry Dowling’s murder.
22
The sun was streaming through the windows of the rectory. Marge sat opposite Father Frank in his office. Instead of sitting behind his desk, he had pulled up a chair closer to her.
“Marge, I’m happy you’ve come to see me. I could tell from your voice on the phone that you are very upset. What’s wrong?”
“Jamie, he’s in trouble.”
There was a pause. And then Marge, her voice trembling began, “Father, from his window Jamie was watching the party at Kerry Dowling’s house. When she fell or was pushed into the pool, he thought she went swimming and went over to swim with her.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“Not at first. The next morning I noticed that his slacks were wet and so were his socks and sneakers. When I asked him about it, he told me he had seen someone come up behind Kerry, hit her and push her in the pool. Still thinking he could go swimming with her, he walked down the steps to the pool.”
Marge took a deep breath.
“I didn’t know what to do, Father. I watched that awful scene of Steve Dowling and Aline finding Kerry in the pool. I was afraid. Afraid for Jamie. His sneakers and pants had stains on them. Maybe it was wrong, but I washed them. I had to protect Jamie. I made Jamie promise not to talk to anybody about what happened that night.”
“Marge, what Jamie saw could be very helpful to the police.”
“Yes, but it could also get Jamie in a lot of trouble if they think he did it.” Marge drew a deep breath. “Father, that’s not all. Remember how Jack always called Jamie ‘Big Guy’?”
“Of course I remember.”
“And now Jamie has been talking to me about ‘the Big Guy’ who pushed Kerry into the pool. Alan Crowley is average height and has a thin build. Jamie sometimes talks about himself as ‘the Big Guy.’ He can get mixed up if he’s upset. I’m so afraid that if he ever tells that to the police . . .” Marge’s voice trailed off.
“Marge, is there any chance Jamie might have hurt Kerry?”
“Jamie was disappointed and maybe even angry that he wasn’t invited to the party, but I can’t see him ever hurting her.”
“But when Jamie said a ‘Big Guy’ pushed Kerry in the pool. Do you think he may have been talking about himself?”
Marge sighed. “I don’t know what to think. He loved her. I can’t believe he would hurt her. A detective came by and spoke to us. I don’t think he suspects Jamie, but I just don’t know.”
“Marge, I don’t want to give you quick advice that might turn out to be wrong. Let me think about what we’ve discussed.”
“Thank you so much, Father. And please pray for me. And for Jamie.”
“I will, Marge. I promise.”
23
Excited by the start of a new school year, students poured back into the hallways. As they passed Aline, many of them stopped to tell her how sorry they were about Kerry. Aline tried to keep her eyes from welling up as one after the other they told her they couldn’t believe what had happened to her sister. “Neither can I” was her answer.
The day passed by in a blur. After the school buses had come and gone and the teachers began to go home, Aline sat in her office. She tried to familiarize herself with the names of this year’s seniors. She knew that one of her jobs would be to help them finalize which colleges they would apply to.
She was troubled by the fact that the first thing she had done on the computer was to look up the information requested by Mike Wilson. She worried that if they found out what she had given to the detective, her first day at Saddle River High School could be her last. She hoped not.
There was a tap on her door. Pat Tarleton opened it and came in. “So Aline, how did the first day go?”
“As well as can be expected,” Aline said wryly. “That said, it feels good to be here. And I’m looking forward to getting to know the students and my fellow faculty.”
“Speaking of that, I noticed that you and Scott Kimball were chatting in the teachers’ lounge together. He’s been a great addition to the faculty this past year. His math classes have been very popular with the students. And he’s been a godsend for the girls lacrosse program.”