Faithless Page 30
“What family?”
“The Wards,” she said. “Don’t think she’s the only one’a them been to the Kitty.”
“Who else has been?”
“All of them. All the brothers.”
“Which ones?”
“All of them!” she screamed, slamming her fist into the table so hard that Buddy’s crutch clattered to the floor.
Lena uncrossed her arms, ready to respond if O’Ryan tried to do something stupid.
“They pretend to be so high and mighty, but they’re just as disgusting as the rest of them.” Again, she snorted, this time sounding more like a pig. “That one had an itty-bitty cock, too. He’d come in about three seconds, then start to fucking cry like a girl.” She used a whiney tone: “‘Oh, Lord, I’m going to hell, oh, Lord, I’m gonna burn with Satan.’ Fucking made me sick. Bastard didn’t care about hell when he was grabbing my head, forcing me to swallow it.”
Buddy paled, his jaw slack.
Jeffrey asked, “Which brother, Patty?”
“The short one,” she said, scratching her arm so hard she left red streaks. “The one with the spiked-up hair.”
Lena tried to think which one she meant. Both Paul and Lev had been as tall as Jeffrey, both with a full head of hair.
O’Ryan kept scratching her arm. Soon, she would draw blood. “He’d give Chip whatever he wanted. Smack, coke, weed.”
“He was dealing?”
“He was giving it away.”
“He was giving away drugs?”
“Not to me,” she snapped angrily. She looked down at her arm, tracing the red streaks. Her leg started bobbing under the table again, and Lena guessed the girl was going to lose her shit if she didn’t get a needle in her arm soon.
O’Ryan said, “Just to Chip. He’d never give anything to me. I even offered him cash, but he told me to fuck off. Like his shit don’t smell.”
“Do you remember his name?”
“No,” she said. “He was always up there, though. Sometimes he’d just sit at the end of the bar and watch Chip. Probably wanted to fuck him.”
“Did he have red hair?”
“No,” she answered, like he was stupid.
“Did he have dark hair?”
“I don’t remember the color, okay?” Her eyes flashed, more like an animal needing to feed. “I’m done talking.” She told Buddy, “Get me out of here.”
Jeffrey said, “Hold on there.”
“I’ve got a job interview.”
“Right,” Jeffrey said.
“Get me out of here!” she yelled, leaning over the table as far as she could to get into Buddy’s face. “Now, goddammit!”
Buddy’s mouth smacked when he opened it. “I don’t think you’re done answering questions.’”
She mimicked him like a petulant three-year-old. “‘I don’t think you’re done answering questions.’”
“Settle down,” Buddy warned.
“You settle down, you one-legged piece of shit,” she screamed back. Her body was shaking again, vibrating from the need. “Get me the fuck out of here. Now!”
Buddy picked up his crutch off the floor. He wisely waited until he got to the door to say, “Chief, do whatever you want with her. I’m washing my hands.”
“You fucking cocksucking coward!” O’Ryan screeched, lunging for Buddy. She had forgotten she was still chained to the table and she was yanked back like a dog on a short leash. “Bastard!” she screamed, going into full meltdown. Her chair had been upturned in the scuffle and she kicked it across the room, then yelped from the pain in her foot. “I’ll sue you, you fucking bastards!” she yelled, clutching her foot. “Motherless fucks!”
“Patty?” Jeffrey asked. “Patty?”
Lena fought the urge to put her hands over her ears as the girl wailed like a siren. Jeffrey was scowling when he stood, sticking to the periphery of the room as he made his exit. Lena quickly followed him into the hall, keeping her eyes on O’Ryan until there was a solid door between them.
Jeffrey shook his head, like he couldn’t believe a human being was capable of acting that way. “This is the first time in my life I actually feel sorry for the bastard,” he said, meaning Buddy. He walked down the hall to get away from the noise. “Do you think there’s another Ward brother?”
“There has to be.”
“Black sheep?”
Lena remembered their conversation with the family two days ago. “That’s Paul’s job, I thought.”
“What?”
“Paul said he was the black sheep of the family.”
Jeffrey opened the fire door into the squad room for her. She could see Mark McCallum, the GBI polygraph expert, sitting in Jeffrey’s office. Across from him sat Lev Ward.
She asked, “How the hell did you manage that?”
“Got me,” Jeffrey told her, looking around the squad room, probably for Cole Connolly. Marla was at her desk, and he asked her, “Did Lev Ward come in alone?”
She glanced out through the lobby window. “Far as I can tell.”
“When did he get here?”
“About ten minutes ago.” She smiled helpfully. “I figured you’d want me to go ahead and call Mark over here to get started before lunch.”
“Thanks,” he told her, walking back toward his office.
Lena offered, “You want me to get Brad and go fetch Cole?”
“Let’s hold off on that,” Jeffrey said, knocking on his office door.
Mark waved them in. “Just getting set up,” he told them.
“Thanks for staying in town, Mark.” Jeffrey shook the man’s hand. “I hear you’ve been enjoying the room service over at the Dew Drop.”
Mark cleared his throat and went back to twisting some knobs on his machine.
“Chief,” Lev said, looking as comfortable as anyone can with their body wired to a polygraph machine. “I got your message this morning. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it yesterday.”
“Thanks for coming in,” Jeffrey said, taking out his notebook. He wrote as he talked. “I appreciate you taking the time to do this.”
“The family is getting together at the church in a few hours to pay tribute to Abby.” He turned to Lena. “Good morning, Detective,” he said quietly, then focused back on Jeffrey. “I’d like as much time as I can to prepare my remarks. This is a very difficult time for us all.”
Jeffrey didn’t look up from his writing. “I was expecting Cole Connolly to come with you.”
“I’m sorry,” Lev said. “Cole didn’t mention anything to me. He’ll be at the tribute. I’ll tell him to come by directly after.”
He kept writing on the pad. “You’re not having a funeral?”
“Unfortunately, the body had to be cremated. We’re just doing a small fellowship with the family to talk about her life and how much we all loved her. We like to do things simply.”
Jeffrey finished writing. “Outsiders aren’t welcome?”
“Well, it’s not a regular service, more a family gathering. Listen—”
Jeffrey tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to Mark. “We’ll get you out of here as quickly as possible.”
Lev eyed the note, not hiding his curiosity. “I appreciate that.” He sat back in the chair. “Paul was against my coming here, but I’ve always believed it’s better to cooperate.”
“Mark?” Jeffrey asked as he sat down behind his desk. “It’s not too cramped with all of us in here, is it?”
“Uh . . .” Mark hesitated for a split second. Normally, he was alone in the room with the subject, but it wasn’t as if polygraphs were admissible in court, and Ward hadn’t been arrested. Lena suspected that, more than anything else, lie detector machines were just meant to scare the crap out of people. She wouldn’t be surprised to open one up and find mice inside scurrying on wheels.
“Sure,” Mark said. “No problem.” He fiddled with more dials, then uncapped his pen. “Reverend Ward, are you ready to begin?”
“Lev, please.
”
“All right.” Mark had a notebook beside the polygraph that was hidden from Lev by the bulk of the machine. He opened it up, tucking Jeffrey’s note into the pocket. “I’d like to remind you to stick to yes or no answers, if you could. We don’t need you to elaborate on anything at this point. Anything you feel needs an explanation can be discussed with Chief Tolliver later. The machine will only register yes and no responses.”
Lev glanced at the blood pressure cuff on his arm. “I understand.”
Mark flipped on a switch and paper slowly scrolled from the machine. “Please try to relax and stare straight ahead.”
The colored needles on the page twitched as Lev said, “All right.”
Mark kept his tone flat as he read from the questions. “Your name is Thomas Leviticus Ward?”
“Yes.”
Mark made a notation on the paper. “You live at Sixty-three Plymouth Road?”
“Yes.”
Another notation. “You are forty-eight years of age?”
“Yes.”
And another. “You have a son, Ezekiel?”
“Yes.”
“Your wife is deceased?”
“Yes.”
The questioning continued through the mundane details of Lev’s life to establish a baseline for the veracity of his answers. Lena had no idea what the bouncing needles signified, and Mark’s marks were hieroglyphics to her. She found herself zoning out until they got to the important parts.
Mark’s voice remained flat and disinterested, as if he was still asking about Lev’s educational background. “Do you know of anyone in your niece Abigail’s life who might wish her harm?”
“No.”
“Has anyone to your knowledge ever expressed sexual interest in her?”
“No.”
“Did you kill your niece Abigail?”
“No.”
“Has she ever expressed interest in someone you might find inappropriate?”
“No.”
“Were you ever angry at your niece?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever strike her?”
“Once on the bottom. I mean, yes.” He smiled nervously. “Sorry.”
Mark ignored the interruption. “Did you kill Abigail?”
“No.”
“Did you ever have sexual contact with her?”
“Never. I mean, no.”
“Did you ever have any inappropriate contact with her?”
“No.”
“Have you met a man named Dale Stanley?”
Lev seemed surprised. “Yes.”
“Did you go into his garage with him?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a brother named Paul Ward?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any other brothers?”
“No.”
“Do you know where your niece Rebecca Bennett is?”
Lev gave Jeffrey a surprised look.
Mark repeated, “Do you know where your niece Rebecca Bennett is?”
Lev returned his focus straight ahead, answering, “No.”
“Was there anything in Dale Stanley’s garage that you took away with you?”
“No.”
“Did you bury Abigail in the woods?”
“No.”
“Do you have any knowledge of anyone who might mean to do harm to your niece?”
“No.”
“Have you ever been to the Pink Kitty?”
His lips frowned in confusion. “No.”
“Did you ever find your niece sexually attractive?”
He hesitated, then, “Yes, but—”
Mark stopped him. “Yes or no, please.”
For the first time, Lev seemed to lose some of his composure. He shook his head, as if to admonish himself for his answer. “I need to explain myself.” He looked at Jeffrey. “Could we please stop this?” He didn’t wait for a response before tugging the pads off his chest and fingers.
Mark offered, “Let me,” obviously wanting to protect his equipment.
Lev said, “I’m sorry. I just . . . This is just too much.”
Jeffrey indicated that Mark should let Lev unhook himself from the machine.
“I was trying to be honest,” Lev said. “Good Lord, what a mess.”
Mark closed his notebook. Jeffrey told Lev, “We’ll be back in a second.”
Lena moved out of their way, taking Jeffrey’s chair as the two men walked out to talk.
“I would never hurt Abby,” Lev told her. “What a mess. What a mess.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lena said, leaning back in the chair. She hoped she didn’t look as smug as she felt. Something in her gut had told her Lev was involved. It would only be a matter of time before Jeffrey cracked him.
Lev clasped his hands between his knees and bent over. He stayed that way until Jeffrey came back into the room. He started talking before Jeffrey could take Mark’s seat. “I was trying to be honest. I didn’t want some foolish lie to make you . . . Oh, good Lord. I’m sorry. I’ve made such a mess here.”
Jeffrey shrugged like it was a simple misunderstanding. “Explain it to me.”
“She was . . .” He covered his face with his hands. “She was an attractive girl.”
“Looked a lot like your sister,” Lena remembered.
“Oh, no,” Lev said, his voice shaking. “I have never been inappropriate with either my sister or my niece. Any of my nieces.” His tone almost begged them to believe him. “There was one time—one time— Abby was walking through the office. I didn’t know it was her. I just saw her from behind and my reaction was . . .” He directed his words toward Jeffrey. “You know how it is.”
“I don’t have any pretty little nieces,” he answered.
“Oh, Lord.” Lev sighed. “Paul told me I would regret this.” He sat back up, clearly troubled. “Listen, I’ve read my share of true crime stories. I know how this works. You always look at family members first. I wanted to rule that out. I wanted to be as honest as I could.” He rolled his eyes up at the ceiling, as if hoping for an intervention from on high. “It was one time. She was walking down the aisle by the photocopier, and I didn’t recognize her from behind, and when she turned around, I almost fell on the floor. It’s not that—” He stopped, then continued, treading carefully. “It’s not that I was thinking it through, let alone considering it. I was just staring into space, and I thought, ‘Well, there’s a nice-looking woman,’ and then I saw it was Abby and, I promise you, I couldn’t even talk to her for a month afterward. I have never felt so ashamed about anything in my life.”
Lev held out his hands. “When the officer asked that question, that’s the first thing that popped into my mind— that day. I knew he’d be able to tell if I was lying.”
Jeffrey took his sweet time revealing, “The test was inconclusive.”
All the air seemed to go out of Lev. “I’ve messed things up by trying to make them right.”
“Why didn’t you want to report the fact that your other niece is missing?”
“It seemed—” He stopped, as if he couldn’t find the answer. “I didn’t want to waste your time. Becca runs off a lot. She’s very melodramatic.”
Jeffrey asked, “Did you ever touch Abigail?”
“Never.”
“Did she ever spend time alone with you?”
“Yes, of course. I’m her uncle. I’m her minister.”
Lena asked, “Did she ever confess anything to you?”
“That’s not how it works,” Lev said. “We would just talk. Abby loved reading the Bible. She and I would parse the scriptures. We played Scrabble. I do this with all my nieces and nephews.”
Jeffrey told him, “You can see why this sounds strange to us.”
“I am so sorry,” Lev said. “I’ve not helped this along one bit.”
“No,” Jeffrey agreed. “What were you doing on the Stanley place?”
He took a moment to shift his train of thought. “Dale call
ed about some of our people using his property as a cut-through. I spoke to him, walked the property line and agreed to put up a fence.”
“Odd that you did this personally,” Jeffrey suggested. “You’re pretty much in charge of the farm, aren’t you?”
“Not really,” he answered. “We all run our various areas.”
“That wasn’t my impression,” Jeffrey said. “You seem like the man in charge to me.”
Lev seemed reluctant to admit, “I’m responsible for the day-to-day operations.”
“It’s a pretty large place.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Walking Dale’s property line, talking about building a fence, that wasn’t something you’d delegate?”
“My father is constantly on me to do just that. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a control freak. It’s something I should work on.”
“Dale’s a big guy,” Jeffrey said. “It didn’t bother you to go out there alone?”
“Cole was with me. He’s the foreman on our farm. I don’t know if you had time to get into that yesterday. He’s one of the original success stories at Holy Grown. My father ministered to him in prison. Over two decades later, Cole’s still with us.”
Jeffrey said, “He was convicted of armed robbery.”
Lev nodded, saying, “That’s right. He was going to rob a convenience store. Someone turned him in. The judge didn’t take kindly to him. I’m sure Cole made his bed, just as I’m sure he lay in it for twentysome years. He’s a very different man from the one who helped plan that robbery.”
Jeffrey moved him along. “Did you go into Dale’s shop?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Dale Stanley. Did you go into his shop when you went out there to talk about the fence?”
“Yes. I’m not normally into cars—that’s not my thing—but it seemed polite to oblige.”
Lena asked, “Where was Cole during all of this?”
“He stayed in the car,” Lev told her. “I didn’t bring him for intimidation. I just wanted to make sure Dale knew I wasn’t alone.”
“Cole stayed in the car the whole time?” Jeffrey asked.
“Yes.”
“Even when you walked back across the fence line between your property and Dale’s?”
“It’s the church’s property, but yes.”