Sweets Forgotten (Samantha Sweet Mysteries Book 10) (13 page)

Chapter
14

Well, this day just got a whole
lot more interesting, Sam thought as she followed Beau to the interrogation
room where they had stashed Jane—now Jo—when they arrived at the station. She
had come along without argument after the final minutes of the funeral erupted
in near chaos. The scene flashed through Sam’s mind: Nancy Robinet swooning
against her husband’s side, Bentlee Robinet’s open-mouthed astonishment, the
long-winded preacher silent for the first time all morning. Chandler Lane and
his employees seemed shaken.

Once it became clear that Jo was
leaving with the sheriff, the cacophony of voices dampened to a hush. Sam felt
sorry for the woman she’d worked with for several days now, watching the
downcast eyes and trembling mouth. It took a few minutes for it to sink in that
Jane had deceived her all that time, obviously knowing.

“May I speak to her first?” Sam
asked outside the department’s interrogation room.

She’d caught up with Beau as he
was about to open the door. Kent Taylor stood behind.

“I know what you want to ask,
Sam. Whether she really had amnesia at all. We’ll get to that, but I want to
concentrate on the stuff Krystal told us yesterday, too.”

Sam fidgeted as Taylor seconded
Beau. “Why don’t you wait in the observation room while we talk to her? You’ll
get a chance for personal conversation before it’s all over.”

Beau seemed taken aback at the
glare Sam sent his direction but the responding tightness around his mouth told
her that this was, first and foremost, a law enforcement matter. She spun
around and walked into the mirrored room that allowed visual and audio
observation. Plopping herself into a chair she stewed. Beau entered the
interrogation room first, alone. Kent Taylor had slipped into the observation
room and stood now beside Sam’s chair.

“Mrs. Robinet,” Beau said. He
offered coffee or a soft drink. Jo declined both.

He began with soft questions:
When did she first learn of her husband’s death? Where was she when she heard
it?

“This morning. The bakery
employees said Sam had gone to Zack Robinet’s funeral.” There were tears in her
voice. “I had no memory until last night, but the mention of his name brought
it all back.”

Beau looked skeptical. “Okay,
we’ll return to that. You have memories from the past, so let’s explore how far
back those memories go. Do you remember talking to a prostitute named Krystal?”

Jo said she didn’t, but she
couldn’t meet his eyes as she said it.

Taylor sputtered. “That’s bull.”
He left Sam’s side and pushed into the interrogation room, none too quietly.
Earlier, he’d been in a hurry to get back to Albuquerque; Beau’s slow and easy
style wasn’t going to suit him.

“Krystal Cordova says you hired
her to seduce your husband,” Taylor said, not bothering to soften his voice.
“She says you knew when and where she would be with him. When she left the room
you had ample opportunity to go in there and kill him. I’ll be blunt here. To
us, it looks like that’s exactly what you did.”

“What!” Jo’s timidity vanished
and her eyes flashed. “I absolutely did not kill Zack. That’s crazy!”

“Is it? You showed up at the
bakery with bruises and scrapes. Looks to us like you confronted him over his
infidelity, he got rough with you, you killed him. You figured back in your
hometown you could pretend you didn’t know anything about it and would find
sympathy.”

Sam sucked in her breath. That
accusation didn’t at all fit with the facts. If Jo wanted sympathy, she would
have showed up among friends or family. Plus, injecting someone with a lethal
drug dose took a lot more planning. His version required that Jo first hire a
hooker then—illogically—get angry over the fact that her husband had sex with
the woman
and
show up at their hotel
with a syringe already loaded with heroin.

Beau left Taylor in charge and
came into the observation room where Sam was trying to process what she’d
heard. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry I got a little short with
you earlier,” he said.

“What’s he
doing
in there?” Sam asked, nodding toward the mirrored window.

“Taylor is just trying to rattle
Mrs. Robinet, either to get a true confession of the events or to find out how
real her amnesia was.”

“I spent a lot of time with that
woman,” Sam said. “I can’t believe she would resort to heroin to kill the man.
Beaning him over the head with a heavy ashtray—maybe. But hard drugs? I just
don’t see it.”

“At risk of ticking you off
again, honey, you didn’t spot her as a woman who would hire a hooker either.”

“Neither did you.”

“True. That’s why we can’t assume
things about a suspect. We have to ask the questions and gather the evidence.”

Okay. She got that.

Taylor’s voice grew louder, his
quiet-cop persona well hidden now. When he slammed a hand down on the tabletop,
Beau moved toward the door.

“Time for good cop to show up
again. This time, why don’t you come? Now that he’s scared her a bit maybe
we’ll make more progress.”

Sam followed willingly.

Jo stood when they entered and
Taylor left. She came straight to Sam and hugged her.

“Oh, Sam. I didn’t want it to
come out like this. It’s not at all like I planned. When I heard about the
funeral I knew my son would be there. I only wanted to get a look at him, to
see if he was all right. The disguise was stupid—things I grabbed out of a
charity bin. I only wanted to see my little boy—” Jo sobbed, leaning into Sam’s
arms.

Beau stood by and let Sam make
some there-there noises to calm their suspect.

“Let’s sit down and maybe you can
tell us more about what you planned,” Sam said. She suggested Beau get them
some bottled water.

When he was gone she turned to
Jo. “I have a hard time not thinking of you as Jane, the chocolate maker.
Having amnesia must be a very weird feeling. Did your memory come back all at
once or a little at a time?”

“A little at a time.” She wiped
her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

So Becky wasn’t entirely wrong
about Jane.

“When?”

“Day before yesterday, as I was
working with the chocolate I had a vision of making chocolate rabbits for my
son’s Easter basket. Seeing the chocolate molds at your shop triggered a lot of
things for me.”

“I want to know more about
that—really,
all
about it. Where you
learned so much and who trained you … but right now we need to concentrate on
what the police need to know. About what happened to Zack. You don’t really
want to be locked up and go through the whole legal system, do you?”

Jo shook her head and another
tear slid down her left cheek.

“So, anything you can tell us
that could be backed up with facts … that would be helpful.”

“I did hire Krystal. That part is
true. I don’t know how to explain this, especially to anyone who’s happily
married like you, Sam.” She stared at a spot in the middle of the laminated
table top. “Zack was so charming and thoughtful in the beginning. He sent
flowers after every date along with these beautiful notes saying what a
memorable time he’d had. Such a gentleman. And our wedding—he completely
understood my dream of a big wedding and a dream honeymoon to Hawaii. He bought
me jewelry and clothes and we always stayed in the best hotels. This was even
before the business became as successful as it is now. We weren’t rich in those
early years but I had the feeling he would spend every last dime, if that’s
what it took, to make me happy and comfortable.”

Sam knew her expression must look
doubtful; she couldn’t figure out how this connected to recent events.

“Then Zack changed. At first, the
abuse was verbal—little digs about what I’d chosen to wear that day or how
dinner turned out. I didn’t even realize my self-esteem was crumbling away
until the first time he hit me. We’d been married nearly two years by then and
I was seven months pregnant with Bentlee.” Jo’s voice became steadier as she
related the events.

“My gosh, Jo.”

“I couldn’t believe it happened.
He was so happy about the baby and I really—stupidly—believed he’d tripped and
accidentally struck me.
I
actually
apologized to
him
! It happened the
second time when Bentlee was about a month old. Zack and I were both worn out
from waking up during the night, and one evening I complained, saying I really
needed to go to bed early. Zack struck out and punched me in the stomach. I
fell, and I think I slept right there on the couch, numb and shocked.”

 
Her voice had become almost a monotone,
reciting facts without emotion. “Increasingly, I felt stuck. By the time five
years went by, I knew he would never stand for me taking Bentlee away. The only
thing that saved my sanity was when Zack went out of town on business. He and
Chandler were all wrapped up in developing Infinite Star Fighter so there was a
lot of travel. I savored those nights alone when he wouldn’t force himself on
me in bed. If I didn’t pretend to enjoy the sex he would just get violent and
keep me awake half the night screaming obscenities and punching me in the ribs
or stomach. And then it would end, suddenly. After the attacks he would be
completely sweet and solicitous, as if nothing had happened. The next day I
would get a new fur coat or diamond bracelet or something.”

She look up at Sam. “It’s
humiliating to admit this but I felt like a whore, trading sex for all those
expensive trinkets. Sometime after I first had that thought I began to consider
hiring a stand-in. I mean, if Zack had someone else to take to bed and to buy
things for, maybe he would leave me alone.” Her voice cracked. “That’s the
only
reason I did it—found Krystal and
paid her. I actually hoped he would spend even more time with her.”

“You only wanted her to sleep
with him? You must have imagined how nice it would be if he died. He would
never hit you or force himself on you again.” Sam knew Beau and Kent were
behind the mirror, catching every word of this.

“It’s one thing to imagine it,
Sam, but that’s not something I would ever have actually done.”

“So the idea of Zack dying never
came up in conversation with Krystal?” Sam wasn’t sure what prompted her to
ask. It was as if Beau were feeding her the questions telepathically.

Jo went completely still, her
eyelids lightly closed.

“It did? You talked to her again,
didn’t you? Once the ‘job’ had become an affair?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,”
Jo said. Her voice was now barely a whisper.

Sam could practically feel the
men in the next room holding their breaths in order to hear all this. She
wished it were Beau asking the questions. He would know which way to go next.
But she knew if that door opened the mood would be broken and Jo might very
well end the interview by calling for a lawyer.

She continued, hoping for the
best. “Okay, Jo. If not in that way, in what way did you and Krystal talk about
Zack dying?”

“Krystal introduced me to a
friend of hers, a man who owns a bar here in town.”

“Ray Belatoni?”

“Oh, god, you already know about
him?”

Sam nodded. “Tell me what he has
to do with this.”

“Up to that point Krystal had
seemed fairly innocent. In a way she was just this sweet girl who looked great
all dressed up and who enjoyed pleasing men. Just Zack’s type.” Jo took a deep
breath and let it out. “Once Ray came into the picture our business deal became
tough-business. He demanded that Krystal get more money for her services.”

“He was her pimp?”

“I don’t think so. I got the
impression he was more like a boyfriend who didn’t mind sharing her around, as
long as she brought in lots of money. I’m pretty sure he dealt drugs out of
that bar of his. He might have gotten Krystal hooked so he had a strong hold
over her.”

“Did you give them more money?”

“Yes, at first. Then the tone of
the conversations turned bad. They threatened to tell Zack exactly what was
up—and they claimed they had proof—that I had paid them to kill him. I didn’t!
I swear it. But it would certainly look that way and he would be furious. If he
didn’t beat me to death himself, he would have told the police and done it in
such a way that I would go to prison and never see my son again.”

“Blackmail.”

“Exactly. They weren’t above
making up any kind of story—I could see that. I was afraid of them but I was
more afraid of what Zack would do.”

“What did you do?”

“I decided to get out. Bentlee
started school last month so I knew he was safely out of the house. Zack was
hard on Bentlee but he
never
treated
our son the way he treated other people. With Bentlee he was more intent on
showing him the good life and spoiling him rotten.”

“So you planned to move out? Go
somewhere else?”

She nodded and wiped her face
again. “I have relatives on the east coast. It’s where I grew up and even though
my parents are both gone now, an uncle still owns the chocolate shop my father
started when I was a kid. I grew up making cream centers and nut centers,
tempering chocolate by the gallons. I figured I could go there, where Zack or
Krystal and Ray would never find me.”

“When was this?”

“Last week. Zack would be in
Vegas over the weekend so he wouldn’t know for several days I’d left home. I
packed a couple of bags and went to gas up my car. That’s when Ray caught me.
It was very early in the morning—the sun wasn’t even up yet—and wouldn’t you
know it but he was the only other person at that gas station. He pulled right
up beside my car and I could see him looking at the suitcases in the back. He
put it together right away. When I left, he followed me. My heart was pounding
and I was so scared.