Debby Giusti - Person of Interest

“I heard him.”

“You heard a voice—” he glanced at his notes “—a seemingly male voice—through an insulated wall.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t disbelieve you. I’m just getting information. What happened after you knocked on the Yateses’ door?”

“I ran back here and called the military police, and then I waited for someone to arrive, which you did.”

“Did you hear any other noise from the house?”

“No.

“Did you look out the window?”

“I glanced at the street. I had checked the doors to insure they were locked earlier and then relocked the front door when I came back inside.”

“Did you hear a door close anywhere in the area? What about a car engine or a car door slamming?”

“I heard nothing. The storm had passed, and even the rain had stopped by the time you arrived.”

“Did Wanda Jones provide information about her neighbors?”

“Only Mrs. Yates’s first name and phone number. But I recognized Special Agent Yates.”

“How so?”

“I worked for him in Germany for the last six months of my assignment there.”

Everett bit down on his jaw to hold himself in check. He hadn’t expected the connection. Willing his voice to remain calm, he asked, “At CID Headquarters in Vilseck?”

She nodded. “They were short staffed. I worked as a personnel clerk and was brought in to handle paperwork.”

“What was your relationship with Mason Yates in Germany?”

“We didn’t have a relationship. He was a CID agent. I was an E-5 personnel clerk.”

“Did you meet socially?”

“Of course not.”

“Did you work long hours or work together on the weekends?”

She cocked her brow. “I’m not sure where this is headed.”

“I’m just interested in how well you knew Agent Yates.”

“I knew him only as a CID agent, not socially. We hardly talked unless he needed paperwork dealing with personnel.”

“Did you know Mrs. Yates?”

“She came to the office once, as I recall. I was introduced to her.”

“Agent Yates introduced you?’

“I believe so, although I can’t say for sure.”

“You don’t remember?”

“I met a lot of people in Germany. I don’t remember every situation.”

“Did you realize the Yateses lived next door to the Joneses when you accepted the babysitting position?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t even know they had transferred to Fort Rickman.”

“No one notified you from Germany when Special Agent Yates was reassigned?”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me.” She lifted her chin. “I wasn’t aware the Yateses had left Europe.”

“I understand.” He checked his notes. “You mentioned that you couldn’t determine specifically if the voices were male or female. Is that correct?”

“It is.” She hesitated and raised her brow. “Although one of the voices sounded male. It could have been Mason Yates.”

“Could have been or was?”

“I... I’m not sure.”

Everett closed his notebook. He didn’t know what to think about the nanny. She had called in a domestic violence dispute when she talked to the military police, yet according to Mason’s own account, he had been running on a track in the training area. Somewhat unusual to do PT at night, but physical training was important to the military. If Mason liked to run at night, so be it. The track was lit, and a number of soldiers took advantage of the cool evenings to exercise. Video cameras were posted in the area, which would confirm his alibi.

Everett had checked Mason’s cell phone log and found a call from his wife, just as the distraught husband had claimed when he’d leaped from his car and raced toward his house. The wife’s cell log also confirmed that a call had been made, a call that Mason said had spurred him to hurry home.

The husband seemed to be telling the truth, not that Natalie Frazier wasn’t. More than likely, she had heard bickering. If Mason wasn’t at home, then the more aggressive voice she presumed was male had to have belonged to someone else. Someone who had argued with Mrs. Yates and perhaps caused her death.

“Thank you, Ms. Frazier.” Everett stood to leave. “I’ll be in touch.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He dug in his pocket and handed her his business card. “Be sure to call me if you think of anything else.”

He needed to check on the nanny’s tour of duty in Germany and find out how well she knew both Mason and his wife. Her sudden arrival on post the day of Mrs. Yates’s death seemed questionable, especially since she’d worked with Mason.

The air was heavy with humidity as he walked outside. Overhead, a sliver of moon peered through the clouds. Cicadas and tree frogs croaked in the night.

A man hurried across the street. Tall, slender, early thirties. “Mind telling me what’s going on?” he asked, his face drawn with concern.

Everett flashed his CID identification. “Could I have your name, sir?”

“Lieutenant Bobby Slade.” He pointed over his shoulder to the duplex where Everett had seen the light come on earlier. “I live in 325-B. Something bad must have happened.”

“Did you notice anything unusual this evening?”

The guy raked his hand over his short hair and let out a stiff breath. “Unusual.” He thought for a long moment. “No, not really. I noticed a different car parked in the alleyway behind the Yateses’ quarters earlier. Probably a friend.”

“Can you remember the make and model of car?”

He shook his head. “’Fraid not. I didn’t know it would be important. Did someone get hurt?”

“Mrs. Yates fell.”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry. If there’s anything my wife or I can do...”

“Why don’t you go back inside, sir. Someone from the military police will want to talk to you later about that car.”

“You mean, the fall wasn’t accidental?”

“We’ll contact you, sir.”

The guy nodded and hurried back to his quarters. An inquisitive neighbor who saw a car in the area. Not much, but Everett made note of the information on his tablet. Sometimes the smallest detail could have bearing on a case.

He raised his cell and called Frank, who answered on the second ring.

“Yeah, Rett. What’s up?”

“We’ve got an inquisitive neighbor across the street. Lieutenant Bobby Slade. Quarters 325-B. The guy saw a car parked behind the Yateses’ home today. You might want the MPs to question him when they do their door-to-door.”

“Is that the reason you called?”

“Negative. I talked to the nanny. Interesting development that I don’t want Mason to overhear.”

“Where are you?”

“On the sidewalk outside.”

Frank chuckled. “Not to worry. Mason’s in the latrine, and I’m in the kitchen out of earshot. What’d you find out?”

“Natalie Frazier is prior service. You’ll never guess her last duty station.”

“Vilseck, Germany,” Frank said. “She worked as a personnel specialist in the CID office.”

“Mason told you?”

“That’s right. He said she was a loner, kind of aloof.”

Which is exactly how Everett would describe Mason.

“He’s grieving, having a hard time putting his thoughts together,” Frank continued. “Seeing Ms. Frazier was a complete surprise. Mason didn’t know she was in the area.”

Everett glanced at the sky. Dark clouds rolled past the moon, blocking its light. “Strange coincidence that she’d show up on post the night Tammy Yates dies.”

“You think she’s involved?”

He sighed. At this point, he didn’t know what to think. “Just wondering how this investigation will play out.”

“Do you still plan to go on leave in the morning?”