Dennis Larsen - With Cruel Intent

"That's fine; we can confirm much of that. What did you have to eat Saturday night?"

"Is that important?” Seymour asked.

"It could be, your mom was specific and I'd like to know if you can remember as she did."

"Okay, let’s see. I know Sunday night we were pretty full with the late lunch with those friends and I think we had soup, but Saturday after we cleaned up from doing the hay we had pork and beans. I remember cause I fried up the bacon while momma got the rest together. Is that right, is that what she said?"

"And what time do you think that was?" the Sheriff continued.

"It was dark so I think about 7:00 or 7:30, thereabouts."

Lupo had seen liars and truth tellers his entire career and prided himself on being able to tell the difference. From the few questions and responses he'd reviewed with Seymour, he could tell he had an honest man seated before him. He looked him in the eyes, was forthright with his answers, did not look to the ceiling to retrieve lost information, and spoke with conviction.

"Seymour, for a moment let's suppose that you're not The Stalker and you didn't shoot Jasper Jackson. Do you have any enemies that would want to lay this on you? Do you have any explanation for that gun being in your locker?"

"That's the strange thing, Sheriff; I get along with most everybody. I don't hang out much with the other students but I think I've got friends. Everybody at work is great, never had any trouble there, and I didn't even know this Jasper guy until Blanche said you thought I shot him."

"Back up there a minute. Blanche told you that we thought you had shot Jasper?" he asked.

"And who is Blanche and how does….wait a minute, I read a report with her name attached. She's the young lady that was with Jasper at the time of the shooting. How are you involved with her?"

Seymour was not quite sure how to respond to the question but gave it his best try, "Well, I work with her and I think she's kind of my girlfriend."

"Could you be a bit more specific, how is she kind of your girlfriend?"

"We've been friends since she moved here from Arizona. We both work at the library, anyway, last Friday night we finally had a date and I think she likes me as much as I like her," he declared.

"So let me get this straight, you take this woman out on Friday, then she goes out with another guy on Saturday, but that guy ends up getting shot by a white guy in a hoodie with sunglasses and a baseball hat on," he was speaking more to himself than Seymour.

"I guess, I haven't heard that much about it except that I supposedly did it," he smirked.

Lupo again keyed the intercom on his desk, "Arlene, send Breland back in here will ya."

A minute later the deputy stuck his head in after opening the door, "Yup Sheriff."

"Mrs. Wood has given us permission to search their place, secure her keys from her over in the conference area and take Deputy Firth with you and do a thorough search of the place. Take Ricky with you and his forensics gear, tag and bag anything that looks important. You know what we're looking for from the crime scenes. Have Arlene give you that list I made up so you don't overlook anything. Get out there asap and phone me with what you find."

"Sure Sheriff, we're on it."

"And Breland, these are nice folks; you take care not to damage any of their belongings. You got that?" Angelo confirmed.

"Thanks Sheriff. They aren't going find anything cause I didn't do it," Seymour said, feeling the stress of the day catching up to him, his energy all but gone.

Sheriff Lupo noticed the fatigue setting in and stepped to his door, "Arlene, fetch Seymour and myself a sandwich and a coffee would ya?”

"Seymour, we still got the problem of this gun. We can't let you just walk until we, or you, can explain how a stolen gun got into your possession. You say you don't have any enemies, nobody that wants to give you a hard time, but then why and how?"

The accused had been searching his memory all afternoon and could think of no one specifically that would want to set him up. He ran through his day prior to them finding the gun and had no answers. He shook his head side to side and raised his hands indicating that he could be no help. The two talked, Lupo taking notes until the food arrived. They ate and talked, Seymour giving the Sheriff as many details as he could about the past month. What he had done, what days he had worked, who had he seen and when. The list was extensive, giving the Sheriff a good idea of who he was dealing with, and having enough specifics that they could either confirm he had alibis or put his neck further into the noose.

At the end of what seemed like hours to Seymour he was returned to his cell and his visitors were allowed in. Seymour stood close to the bars, his face pressed between them so that he could kiss, first his mom, then Blanche. Marcus also leaned in for a kiss making Seymour pull away and laugh, momentarily taking his mind off his worries. Lillian cried as Blanche held her close, her arm around the woman's shoulders and comforting her as much as she was able.

"We gave statements to that nice young Deputy Guest, I think she's cute," his mom said.

"Yeah, how did it go?" her son asked.

"We don't have anything to hide, the truth will come out and quickly we hope," she said.

"The Sheriff said they will have to confirm my alibis so I can't go anywhere until they know how I got the gun, or I mean how the gun got in my locker," he quickly corrected himself. "I guess I go before the judge tomorrow around noon. Will you be there?" he said to his mom, noting that both women nodded in the affirmative.

They spoke for the full hour allotted them; a deputy broke up the exchange around 8:00 p.m. Marcus agreed to take both women home, dropping Lillian off first, but they found her home invaded by numerous sheriff vehicles and personnel going through everything and everywhere.

"Mrs. Wood, you can't stay here," Blanche said. "Go in, gather up what you need for the night and come and stay with me. I can make room and we can spend the night consoling one another. How does that sound?"

"Well, I would rather not be alone tonight. Are you sure it's not too much trouble? I hate to put you out," the older woman spoke again on the verge of tears.

She ducked into the home for only a few minutes before returning with an overnight bag and her purse. Marcus drove the pair to Caroline's Bed and Breakfast with a promise to take care of everything at the library, at least for Tuesday, and anything beyond that would have to be worked out between Blanche and Mrs. Anderson. They exchanged goodbyes and thank you's as he drove off for home.

At midnight the Sheriff's Department was finally quiet. Lupo sat in his office looking over the statements of each of the four taken that afternoon. He compared the dates and times of the break-ins and assault with the sheets before him, nothing seemed to come together for him, no pattern, no clear indication that Seymour could have done the crimes. The prospect that perhaps he was not working alone entered his mind but the forensics did not support that. Ricky would be taking a casting of Seymour's foot in the morning and DNA samples as well. Seymour had agreed to both. On paper, face-to-face, on the evidence and in his heart, 'The Wolf' knew Seymour was innocent, which left a rather sinister question. Who and for what reason? Who else could be in danger, perhaps Jasper was only the beginning.

As the Sheriff sat sipping his eighth cup of coffee of the day, the phone on his desk rang. He retrieved the portable from the cradle and spoke, "Yeah, Lupo here."

"Sheriff, Breland out at the Wood house. Let me start by what we do have, a motorcycle and it's a dirt bike, lime green 250cc Suzuki, older model. We also found an old single shot hunting rifle and a few rounds of ammunition but no other weapons. I know we were supposed to be looking for a Polaroid camera, came up empty handed there, just a small hand held digital with a dozen miscellaneous pictures on the stick but nothing pertinent. Ricky has been all over this place too, taken some samples, you know the usual stuff, but I got to tell you beyond what I've told you, we haven't found jack shit."