Jamie looked straight ahead, trying to reconstruct in his mind a picture of the previous evening. “She said, ‘Jamie, you can always go swimming with me.’ I said, ‘Thank you, Kerry. You’re very nice.’?”
Marge sighed inwardly. Time was always a hazy concept for Jamie. A memory of a place they visited a week ago would intertwine with his recollections of visiting that same place years earlier. Did this conversation with Kerry take place last night or on one of the many previous times she had invited him to swim with her?
“Jamie, why did you go swimming with your pants and sneakers on?”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I won’t do it again. I promise, okay?” Jamie said, his voice growing louder and aggressive.
“Jamie, did you and Kerry play any games in the pool?”
“Kerry went under the water for a long time. I said, ‘Kerry, wake up. It’s Jamie.’?”
“Did you help Kerry in the water?”
“I always help Kerry. I’m her friend.”
“When you were playing a game, did you hold Kerry under the water?”
“I said I was sorry, Mom, okay?” Jamie said, as he started to tear up. “I want to go now.”
“It’s all right, Jamie,” Marge said, as it was obvious that Jamie was beginning to shut down. But she had to figure out a way to protect him.
“Jamie,” she said, trying to make her voice sound cheerful, “can you keep a secret?”
“I like secrets,” Jamie said, “like birthday presents.”
“That’s right, like when we buy somebody a birthday present, we keep it a secret,” Marge said. “But this secret will be about your going swimming with Kerry last night. Can that be a secret for only you and me?”
While using his finger to make a big X on his chest, Jamie said, “Cross my heart and hope to die,” as he smiled widely.
Marge sighed. That would have to do for now. “Do you want to come home with me, Jamie?”
“Can I watch practice?”
Marge knew he meant the football, soccer or whatever team was on the field at the high school. “Yes, you can. I’ll drop you off. Be sure to come straight home afterwards.”
“I will, Mom, and I won’t tell anybody I was in the pool.”
As if he was trying to change the subject, Jamie said, “Tony Carter and his dad are going on a fishing trip.”
I hope they catch nothing but colds, Marge thought. She had heard that Carl Carter had told people that the only problem with Jamie was that “he didn’t have his head screwed on tight.” It was a remark that Marge neither forgave nor forgot. “That’s nice,” she managed to say.
As his mother drove, Jamie looked out the window at the passing houses. It’s a secret, he told himself. I won’t tell anybody I went swimming with Kerry. I won’t tell anybody I got my sneakers, pants and socks wet, and I won’t tell anybody about Big Guy who hit Kerry and pushed her in the pool. Because that’s a secret too.
11
The instant he pulled into his driveway, Doug Crowley became irritated. “I told Alan the lawn should be mowed by the time we got home. Look! The front is only half-finished.”
The consternation on June’s face matched her husband’s. Their avid tennis playing kept them in good shape. Both were on the short side. Doug was five feet, nine inches tall, with salt and pepper hair combed over to cover a growing bald spot. His even features always hinted at a scowl. June’s cap-length brown hair did not do enough to soften her narrow lips and frequent frown.
June and Doug had been thirty-three years old when they married. By then June had her nursing degree from Rutgers and Doug was working as a software engineer. They were joined at the hip by their mutual desire to have a beautiful home, become members of a country club and retire by age sixty. They were goal-oriented and insisted their only child be the same way.
To arrive home and find a job not completed and the mower sitting in the middle of the front lawn irritated June as much as it did Doug. She was fresh on her husband’s heels when they went through the door shouting their son’s name. When he did not answer, they went through the rooms and found him lying atop his unmade bed, crying. As one they began to shake him.
“Alan, what happened? What’s the matter?”
At first Alan could not answer. Finally he looked up at them. “Kerry was found dead in her pool, and the police think I did it.”
Doug was practically shouting, “Why do they think you did it?”
“Because we had an argument at her party. It was in front of a lot of the other kids. And when the detective was here, he—”
“A detective came here!” June shrieked. “Did you talk to him?”
“Yes. For a little while. He drove me to his office and asked me some questions.”
Doug looked at his wife. “Did the detective have a right to do that?”
“I don’t know. He did turn eighteen last month.” She looked at her son. “Alan, exactly what happened to Kerry?”
His voice halting, Alan told them what he had learned. Kerry had been found in her pool this morning. “They think somebody hit her over the head and pushed her in and she drowned.”
It ran through June’s mind to tell Alan that they knew how much he had cared about Kerry. There would be time for that later. Right now, the tremendous impact of what they had heard and how it might affect Alan made it absolutely necessary to protect her son any way she could.
As she questioned him, she became more and more frantic.
12
After dropping Jamie at the high school, Marge drove down the block toward her home. Grace, her next-door neighbor, was watching for her from the patio on her front lawn. As soon as Marge parked the car, Grace waved her over.
“Can you believe it? That poor girl, Kerry, was murdered. She had one of those teen parties the kids have when their parents are away. The police are talking to all the neighbors. They rang your doorbell. They asked me if I knew who lived in your house. I told them about you and Jamie and said I didn’t know where you were.”
Marge tried to conceal her anxiety.
“Grace, did you say anything about Jamie?”
“I told them that he is a very nice young man with special needs and didn’t go to the high school anymore. I guess they want to talk to everybody in the neighborhood who might have seen something.”
“I suppose so,” Marge agreed. “I’ll see you later.”
When Jamie came home a few hours later, Marge could see that something was disturbing him. She didn’t have to ask him what it was before he said, “The girls on the soccer team were sad because Kerry went to Heaven.”
“Jamie, a policeman is going to come and talk to us about Kerry because she got sick in the pool and went to Heaven. Remember you won’t tell him that you went over to the pool.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before the bell rang. Jamie started up the stairs to his room. When Marge answered the door, it was not a policeman in uniform but a man in a suit.
“I’m Detective Mike Wilson from the Bergen County Prosecutor’s Office,” he said.
“Yes, come in, Detective,” Marge said, as she gestured toward the living room. “We can sit in here and talk.”
After they settled into two chairs facing each other, Mike said, “As I’m sure you are aware, Mrs. Chapman, your neighbor Kerry Dowling was found dead in her family’s swimming pool this morning.”
“I did hear about it,” Marge sighed. “A terrible tragedy. Such a lovely young girl.”
“Mrs. Chapman, my understanding is that you and your son live in this home?”
“Yes, just the two of us.”
“Were the two of you home last night after eleven o’clock?”
“Yes, we both were.”
“Was anyone else with you?”
“No, just us.”
“Let me tell you why I am particularly interested in speaking to you and your son. When I was called to the Dowlings’ home this morning, I stood at their backyard pool and looked around. Above the tree level I could clearly see the upstairs room in the back of your home. That means anyone who was in that room might have seen something that could be helpful to our investigation.”
“Of course,” Marge said.
“I’d like to see that room before I leave. How is that room used?”
“It’s a bedroom.”
“Your bedroom?”
“No, it’s Jamie’s bedroom.”
“May I speak to him?”