Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

She smiled, making an effort to throw off the negative effects of the past hour. “Leo, then.”

Sharp eyes zeroed in on her face. “Something’s wrong. What is it? Something to do with the case?”

The concern in his voice cut through her reserve. She hadn’t intended to tell him, but the urge to accept that concern was too strong.

“While I was in your office, someone let the air out of my tires.” That wasn’t correct. “Actually, whoever it was slashed my tires. And left me a nasty little note.”

“That can’t be.” Leo’s voice was sharp with disbelief.

She stiffened. “I assure you, that’s what happened.”

“I’m so sorry. Jessica, I didn’t mean I thought you were lying. I’m just…” He shook his head, and she realized his face had lost whatever color it had. “I’m stunned. That’s so out of character for people around here. Or at least it used to be.”

His obvious distress touched her. She wanted to say something to ease the situation, but the door rattled. She turned toward it to see Thomas brought in…and to see the relief that flooded his face at the sight of Leo Frost.

The boy didn’t speak until the door closed behind the guards. Then he leaned across the table. “You came. Denke.”

“You’re welcome.” Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “I told you I’d come back. Are they treating you all right?”

A trace of anxiety touched the older man’s voice. Jessica understood. Thomas seemed ill-prepared to mix in with the general population of the jail.

“Ja.” He plucked at the front of the jumpsuit. “I would like to have my own clothes, but the other lawyer said that I could not.”

“Ms. Langdon is right about that.” Leo leaned toward the boy. “Thomas, I explained that you would have another lawyer to take care of you. You can trust Ms. Langdon. You have to tell her everything.”

Thomas’s glance touched her face and then slid away. “Ja. I understand.”

Jessica understood, too. Thomas would take Leo’s word for it, because he had faith in Leo.

“Good.” Leo started to rise. “I’ll leave you two together then.”

“Don’t go.” It was an anguished cry, and Thomas grasped the older man’s hand, earning a sharp rap on the glass from the guard outside.

“Thomas, Ms. Langdon is your attorney now. You need to talk to her.” Leo’s voice was deep with sympathy.

Thomas nodded, but he looked miserable. Not exactly a ringing endorsement of her, was it?

She managed a smile. “Leo, if you don’t mind staying…” She left it open, with a faint, apologetic thought for Henderson, Dawes and Henderson. Mr. Henderson would not approve.

Leo hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded and sat down, and the tension in the small room eased.

Jessica took a deep breath, feeling as if some barrier had been surmounted. Now, maybe, she could get to work on the case. She took a pad from her briefcase.

“Thomas, I…we…have to ask you some questions about what happened the night Cherry died. Just try to answer as fully as you can. Okay?”

He nodded, blue eyes filled with apprehension.

“All right, then.” She started with some easy questions-who had planned the party where he’d met Cherry that night, where was it, how had he learned about it.

Thomas answered readily enough, sometimes groping for a word. She reminded herself again that English, according to Trey, wasn’t his first language.

She made notes, sure that all this ground would have been gone over by the police. Still, they could have missed something, convinced as they were that their murderer had been lying there at the crime scene, waiting for them.

“You’re doing fine, Thomas. Now, I want you to write down the names of the people who were at that party.” She pushed the pad and pen over to him.

“They were mostly Englisch,” Thomas said, taking the pen. “I don’t know all the names.”

“Non-Amish, he means,” Leo said. “Just put down the names you remember.”

Thomas nodded, beginning to print on the yellow pad. Mostly first names, she realized. It would take some work to track down everyone who’d been at that party, and even when she did, what would they have to contribute? The crime hadn’t occurred there.

Leo was watching the movement of Thomas’s hand on the paper. When it stopped, he spoke. “Now the names of all the Amish at the party.”

Something that might have been rebellion tightened Thomas’s face. “I don’t-”

“We know you weren’t the only Amish there.” Leo’s voice had a note of command. “Names. Ms. Langdon won’t tell on them to their parents if she can help it.”

She opened her mouth to say that she probably would have to talk to parents, especially if any of the party crowd was underage. Then she shut it again. Thomas was writing down the names. Leo had the knack of dealing with the boy.

When Thomas finally pushed the pad back across to her, she felt a sense of satisfaction. At least it was a place to start. But now she had to ask the tough questions.

“When did you and Cherry leave that party?” she asked.

The whites of Thomas’s eyes showed. “I don’t know.”

“How did you get to the barn?”

“I don’t know.” His big hands clasped together.

“How can you not know?” Her voice sharpened. “Thomas, you have to be open with me if I’m going to help you.”

“I don’t know,” he said again, desperation in his voice. “I don’t remember.” He looked at Leo, unleashing a torrent of words in a language she didn’t understand.

Leo listened, then waved him to silence and turned to Jessica. “He says the last thing he remembers is being at the party, having a beer and talking to some English kids. Then it’s a blank until the police woke him up.”

Her heart sank. I don’t remember wasn’t a particularly good defense.

She wanted to ask if Leo believed him, but that was a question best left until they were alone. She put a few more questions to Thomas, not expecting much and not getting it. Ja, of course he knew the barn that the Morgan family owned. He hadn’t been there in a long time.

When the guards had taken Thomas back to his cell, she stared at the single sheet of yellow paper. Not much to show for the interview with her client.

She glanced at Leo. He looked a little better than he had earlier, as if getting his teeth into the case had been good for him.

“You understood the language…Amish, is it?”

“Pennsylvania Dutch. Or Pennsylvania German, if you wanted to be more accurate, which most people don’t.” He shrugged. “Plenty of old-timers like me understand. My parents spoke it when I was a child.”

“Your family was Amish?” She tried to get a grip on a situation that seemed to be slipping out of her hands.

“Not Amish, no. Of German-Swiss descent, like them. It’s not that unusual in this area. Even some of the younger folks understand. Trey, for instance. He’s quite fluent.”

Trey, again. She could do without having Trey Morgan shoved in her face every other minute.

“About the other kids who were at the party,” Leo said. “I don’t want to interfere-”

“If you know anything that will help, just tell me,” she said quickly. “I’m beginning to understand just how much a fish out of water I am in this case.”

“The English kids will probably be easy. Some of them may have already talked to the police. But the Amish are another story.”

“They won’t willingly get involved with the law.” Trey had said something like that, and Thomas had confirmed it.

“That’s right.” Leo looked relieved that she understood. “You’ll need an entrée-someone who knows them, if you’re going to get anything out of them.”