A Portrait of Emily (17 page)

“Not Anthony,” Emily whispered. “He
couldn’t
have done this, Jeff.”

Johnny turned to the two detectives who’d been watching silently. “Okay, guys. No more talking to Miss Hastings without me being present. When you get your search warrant, get it over with as quickly as possible. I’m going to LA now, but you can reach me on my cell if you have anything to discuss.” He handed over his card. “Emily, Gloria’s going to stay here with you ‘til Jeff and I get back.” He bent to kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry, everything will be all right.”

Emily gave him a wan smile. It seemed she’d heard that phrase too many times recently, and things were definitely not all right.

As Jeff and Johnny walked outside, Peter’s car pulled up. “Hi—glad I didn’t miss you. I want to go with you guys. I promise I won’t get in the way,” he added when Jeff looked at him, surprised.

“Let’s take two cars then,” Johnny said. “I want to get back here soon as I can. That way, Jeff, you can maybe do some more talking to your detective buddy.”

Jeff shrugged and climbed into Peter’s car. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I just want to help, Jeff. Besides, I kinda thought you might like my company.”

Jeff nodded, realizing Peter had intuitively felt this might be hard for him on a personal level. “Thanks,” he said, squeezing Peter’s thigh.

“That’s what I’m here for.” Peter steered the car out of the driveway.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Anthony looked up through blood-shot eyes as Johnny and Jeff entered the interrogation room along with Joe French. They had left Peter outside reading a magazine.

“How are you, Anthony?” Johnny asked.

“I’m all right. Just a bit confused.”

Johnny gave the young man’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “You know Jeff, I understand.”

“Yeah, hi Jeff. Sorry to drag you into all this.”

“No problem; it’s what I do.”

“The medics said he had a slight concussion,” Joe remarked. “Nothing serious, though.”

“The police want you to make a written statement, Anthony,” Johnny said, gently. “Can you remember everything that happened?”

“Yeah, I told them already. I went into the studio. Joey was lying on his back on the floor. His eyes were wide open and I didn’t realize right away he was dead. I knelt down beside him. I was,
shocked
you know? Then I heard a noise behind me then, wham! Next thing, I woke up, totally dazed. I couldn’t stand up so I just sat there looking at him. The cops arrived, started asking me all kinds of questions. I told them someone must have knocked me out.”

“You didn’t see anyone else in the studio?” Jeff asked.

“No one.”

“Any sign of anyone else being there?”

“Forensics are checking that now,” Joe told him. “There’re zillions of prints, of course.”

“Including mine,” Jeff reminded him. “How about on Joey’s body?”

“Nothing so far, but it’s still early. What we do have though, are Joey Fernandez’s prints on the tripod used on Mr. Hastings’ head.”

Johnny sighed. “That’s a given, don’t you think? If the tripod belonged to Mr. Fernandez, naturally it would have his prints on it. You’re saying the victim hit my client during the struggle?”

“That’s what it looks like.”

“Then if he hit him hard enough to knock him out, how did Mr. Fernandez end up dead?”

“According to the coroner’s first examination, his larynx was crushed. Could be it was beyond repair when he hit his attacker. Even though the strangling stopped, he died from choking to death.”

“A dying man with enough strength to knock out a physically very fit attacker?” Johnny raised his eyebrows as he looked at Joe. “I don’t think that’s going to hold up, do you?”

“That’s not for me to decide, Mr. Pederson. I just present the facts and make the arrest.”

“Are you charging my client, then?”

“We’re going to hold him pending some more results from the lab and—”

“Can I ask you something Joe?” Jeff interrupted.

“Sure.”

“The prelim…does it say if Joey’s knuckles were bruised?”

Joe referred to the prelim in his hand then nodded. “Mr. Fernandez had severe bruising to his knuckles, meaning he got in some punches.” His look told Jeff he understood where Jeff was going with his question.

“So whoever was on the receiving end of those punches would also be badly bruised,” Jeff said. “Anthony, would you mind lifting your shirt?”

“Sure.” Anthony stood and raised his shirt revealing smooth, tanned skin devoid of any dark patches.

“Nothing there.” Joe gave Jeff a wry smile. “I was getting to that of course.”

“Then without physical evidence to hold him,” Johnny said, “I expect you to release my client.”

Joe nodded. “There will probably be more questions, but looks like we can release Mr. Hastings under your cognizance, Mr. Pedersen. I’ll just go check on the paperwork.”

Jeff waited until Joe had left the room before asking, “Did they tell you what happened to your father?”

“Yes…” There was no sadness in the young man’s voice. “I think the cops thought I was capable of two murders, the way they told me. I didn’t go see my father yesterday. I was going to have it out with him, but then I changed my mind about going to his office. I was too damned mad at him after what he’d tried to do to Emily. I thought it best to stay away.”

“Where were you all day?” Jeff asked him.

“I came up here to LA. I went to the baths for a while, but I got bored so I went to a bar.”

“See anyone you knew?”

“No, but I did talk to a guy in the bar for a while. His name’s Justin if that’s any help. We arranged to meet later in the week. When I left the bar I was feeling a bit guilty about not telling Joey why I hadn’t called him, so I went to his studio to explain things to him. That’s when I found him…”

Everything Anthony said had the ring of truth to it. He wouldn’t be completely off the hook, but unless the police could come up with an explanation as to why there was no bruising on his body, it didn’t look like they would have enough to press charges.

Jeff left Johnny to take care of the formalities with Anthony then went in search of Joe. He wanted to take a look inside Joey’s studio—to see if there was anything there that could help clear Anthony completely, and perhaps, find another suspect.

§ § § §

Joe showed his badge to the police officer on duty at Joey’s studio then ushered Jeff and Peter inside. The first thing that caught Peter’s eye was the portrait of Jeff in the waiting area. He stood for a moment, finding himself admiring the artistry with which the picture had been taken. There was no doubt Joey had known his craft well.

“Very nice,” he murmured to himself.

They entered the studio and Peter shivered as he saw the taped outline of Joey’s body on the floor.
God
, he thought,
what terror he must have experienced
in those last few moments
. As he stared at the floor, the hair on his body crackled with such intensity that, for a moment, he thought he could hear it.
What the hell?
He shivered again, his skin crawled.

“Jeff… I’m feeling a bit weirded out. Like—like there’s someone else here…”

Jeff crossed to his side quickly and gripped his arm. “What do you feel? Can you see someone?”

“No, but what I feel is rage—it’s almost palpable in here.”

Joe was giving him a strange look. “What’s going on?”

“I know this sounds crazy Joe,” Jeff explained, “but Peter gets these almost psychic flashes sometimes. Ever since he came out of the coma, he’s had them.”

Joe looked at them both skeptically but before he could say anything Jeff added, “Remember how he drew the sketch of Billy Bach, one of the men who murdered Phillip Jennings?”

Joe nodded. “Yeah, that was weird.”

“That’s how I feel.” Peter grimaced. “Weird. All I know is, or rather what I
feel
is, that there was someone else here.”

“In addition to Anthony Hastings, you mean?”

“Yeah…”

“How can you know that?”

“I don’t
know
that, that’s the problem. It’s just a feeling. I can’t explain these things, Joe. They just happen.”

Joe nodded, but retained his skeptical air.

“Who called in the incident?” Jeff asked.

“An anonymous tip from some guy. From this number.”

“There’s someone you should probably check out. A Bob Thomson.”

“Who’s he?”

“The owner of this building; Joey’s landlord.”

“Why him? Although we do have to inform him of what’s gone down here, of course.”

“He was also Joey’s sponsor—and ex-boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” Joe looked more interested. “You think there was a spot of jealousy here?”

“I know there was. The day I met Bob Thomson, he was pretty open about how he felt about Joey seeing Anthony. Also, when I was talking to Joey last night, someone came into the studio. Just before he hung up he said, ‘Oh, it’s you’—so he obviously knew who had just walked in.”

“Well, I better pay Mr. Thomson a visit,” Joe said. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Even if he wasn’t here last night, I would hazard a guess he’ll probably know who else Joey might have been seeing recently.”

“Right.” Joe walked over to the door and held it open. “Okay guys. Time to go. I’ll keep you informed, Jeff. Thanks again for your time.”

“No problem. I’d like to see whoever did this caught as soon as possible.”

The three men shook hands then Jeff and Peter went downstairs to where they had left the car.

“How’re you feeling?” Peter asked anxiously.

“I’m good. Thanks for being here Peter. It really helped.”

As they got in the car, Peter said. “It definitely wasn’t Anthony, Jeff.”

“I love how you can be so sure of things,” Jeff smiled at him. “But you’re probably right—why would Anthony want to kill Joey? Bob Thomson, on the other hand, hated the fact Joey was so enthralled with Anthony. They could have got into a fight over it. Anyway, when forensics comes up with more evidence, like scrapings from under Joey’s fingernails, they’ll have a clearer picture.”

Peter started the car and pulled away from the curb. He drove out onto Santa Monica and headed for the freeway. Jeff’s cell phone rang as they approached the on ramp. It was Johnny.

“Jeff, where are you?” He sounded anxious.

“We’re just getting on the 405 on our way back. What’s up?”

“The police got a warrant and searched Emily’s room. They found a box full of her journals going way back to when she was a kid. They’re pretty graphic about all the abuse, but here’s the thing the police are upset about. Several times she describes her suicide attempts.”

“Why are they upset about that?”

“Because, in one journal she says “Why should I die and he go on living? He’s the one who should pay for what he’s done—and one day he will.”

“But they know the kind of stress she must have been under when she wrote this. They can’t be taking that statement seriously.”

“Well, it doesn’t help that Patricia is insisting Emily threatened her father several times to his face—something Emily, herself, denies.”

“What a shrew that old woman is.” Jeff shifted irritably in his seat as he spoke.

“Tell me. She wants Emily arrested, if you can believe that. Anyway, the police want Emily and Anthony to go in voluntarily for questioning tomorrow morning. I’ll be with them of course, but Jerry wants you to do some sleuthing and see if you can come up with something.”

“Do you want us to swing by the house now?”

“If you don’t mind, Gloria and I are going to take Emily home with us tonight, but she’d like to see you guys before we leave.”

“Right, we’ll be there shortly.”

Jeff filled Peter in with the latest developments.

“What the hell is with Patricia?” Peter growled “Doesn’t she think Emily has been through enough hell in her life without her adding to it? To throw her own daughter to the wolves like this is plain unconscionable.”

“Not to mention suspicious.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, if I’d killed my husband and didn’t want anyone accusing me of it, I’d try and throw suspicion at someone else.”

“You mean Patricia could have done it?” Peter asked, glancing at Jeff with surprise.

“No vibes there, huh?”

“Not really, but maybe she’s worried the police might consider Anthony a suspect and she’d rather sacrifice Emily, rather than see her son, who is obviously her favorite, having to face an interrogation.”

“That’s a possibility. But think of the torment this woman’s also gone through. Although she’s been in denial for years, she
knows
what went on, and she could have just snapped when Anthony told her what had happened to him.”

“True. She couldn’t have been able to ignore
that
, like she did his molesting the girls.”

“And then there
is
Anthony,” Jeff said. “Even though his story sounds all right, he has no alibi for the time his father was killed. He went to the baths. Okay, I can check that out. He met a guy in the bar. Maybe.”

“He could have the guy’s phone number.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask him.”

“Jeff...I just thought of something.”

“A psychic thought?”

“No, just something I remembered. Yesterday, when I met Jerry for lunch he was almost twenty minutes late. He said he’d got caught up in some last minute business, but he looked kind of rumpled and agitated.”

“
Jerry
?” Jeff was silent for a moment. “The motive’s there all right, no doubt about it. He’d just found out what Hastings did to Emily. Their offices are in the same part of town. He could have gone there, murdered Hastings then met you for lunch.”

“Something else,” Peter said, remembering. “When I told him Emily’s father tried to rape her the night before, he said, ‘He’s better off dead.’ Not he
would
be better off dead.”

“Could have been a slip of the tongue.”

“Right, because none of this sounds like Jerry does it?”

“No, it doesn’t, but I’ve found that people are pretty good at putting up appearances when they have something to hide.”