Sorry about the wait...our lives have been a little hectic lately! keep those reviews coming!
Chapter 9
Avery Wentworth was a man who didn't wait for anyone, certainly not two New York City police detectives. He was angry and frustrated as he hung up the phone; unsure about what exactly it was they wanted to talk with him about. He did not want to wait around until they got there, but didn't see how he had much of a choice given they had called already. He decided to rally the troops so to speak and make sure they were ready for whatever might be coming their way.
Bobby and Alex drove the hour drive to Westchester with the radio quietly playing classical music in the background. They were comfortably quiet, each in their own thoughts about the case, and probably each other. Bobby occasionally glanced at Alex checking to make sure she was still ok. Alex was intent on the road, but seemed relaxed and enjoying the drive.
As the GPS system in their car started indicating they were approaching their destination, they started noticing the houses around them. The few that you could see from the road were immense, no doubt indicating that the ones you couldn't see were even larger.
"You have arrived at your destination." The car's automated female voice spoke through the speakers.
"Why do they always make those voices sound like a woman who has just woken up after great sex?" Alex said irritably, not really expecting an answer. Bobby laughed a little, since Alex was always making smart ass comments about the GPS voice. It made her a little crazy. He took it as a good sign that she was back to feeling herself again.
After a few minutes they were through the huge white metal fence, after announcing themselves to a disembodied voice the gate was magically opened to let them through. They both took in the surroundings, impressed with the big trees that blocked the view of the house from the road. Once through the trees, the road opened onto an enormous green lawn that could have been a golfing green. The house sat back from the green, painted completely white with black shutters, huge white columns that opened up the entire front of the house. It was a little intimidating. And sterile. Of course, that was what it was meant to do. It had little effect on them.
They rang the door bell and were greeted by an older man in a dark suit. They introduced themselves, and were led to the living room and told to wait.
Another older man came through the doors, with a beautiful older woman on his arm. His white hair added even more distinction to his powerful features. She was stunning, but her nervousness showed through her cool demeanor. Trying to take the upper hand, Avery Wentworth went on the offensive.
"Detectives, now is not the best time," he said as he and wife approached them in the living room.
"We just have a few questions regarding your son Marshall," replied Bobby, watching the man and his wife closely.
"I haven't spoken to Marshall in almost ten years," Wentworth said dismissively. His disdain for his older son was obvious as his body stiffened at the mention of his name.
"What about you Mrs. Wentworth? Have you had any contact with your son?" asked Alex.
"No." Her answer was short and to the point. It was obvious to them she was simply there for show. That was probably all she was ever there for, given the way Wentworth paraded her in there.
"Why did he leave the city?" asked Bobby, deferentially. He knew this man needed to feel in control and respected if they were to get any information from him. If necessary later on, he would use that need against him. He was willing to play the same game.
"He had a drug problem," Wentworth's statement was simple and direct. He apparently didn't feel the need to elaborate for these detectives. By keeping his answers simple and straightforward, he was less likely to reveal something he didn't want known. He was no fool Bobby thought.
"Yes we saw he was arrested for possession" answered Bobby.
"Why all the questions about my son, detectives?" Was that anxiety showing through his cool façade, Bobby wondered.
"His name came up in an investigation we are conducting" replied Alex.
The older couple exchanged a wary glance.
"Why did he leave again?" asked Bobby. He knew they were hiding something he just wasn't sure what yet.
"Marshall was always a bit of black sheep. Never quite fitting in, never quite wanting to follow in the families wishes. One night, he showed up drunk and high at his brother's engagement party. We gave him an ultimatum. Get help or leave." Wentworth's tone of voice communicated volumes. It was one thing to be the 'black sheep', quite another to be a public disgrace.
"We sent him to a rehab facility in Connecticut for 3 months," added Mrs. Wentworth. She seemed to have more sympathy towards their son than the father.
"Fat lot of good it did. On the day he got out he went out and promptly got busted for possession," snipped Mr. Wentworth. "We gave him every opportunity to get clean but he didn't want to. Once he was arrested by the police, we took a very hard line with him. I think they call it 'tough love.' We simply could not have the family involved in scandal. We tried to keep everything out of the press, off the radar, but he was simply belligerent about it. Finally, in a final pique of disgust, I gave him his trust fund and told him to leave. He was no longer a part of this family. That was the last w saw of him." Bobby thought he detected a hint of regret in the strong man's voice, but it was easily hidden in the very real sense of disgust that his son could have turned out so wrong.
Alex carefully watched Mrs. Wentworth. She could tell the woman knew more about her son than she was willing to say in front of her husband.
"Mr. Wentworth, do you have any idea where your son is today?" asked Bobby.
"No. I have never wanted to know. He really is dead to me now." The regret was very real in the man's voice now, but he was probably a man that once he had made a decision, he never went back and reviewed it.
"I think that about covers our questions for now. Thank you for your time, both of you," said Bobby. He and Alex walked towards the front door to leave.
"She's knows more than she is telling," Alex whispered to Bobby as they approached the door.
"She's not going to tell us when he around," Bobby agreed, leaning closer to Alex to not be heard.
They were about to get into the SUV when Mrs. Wentworth stopped them.
"Detectives, please wait," she said as she quickly approached them, looking back towards the house nervously. "One night, he did come home. I found Marshall trying to destroy bloody clothing. He was burning it in the fireplace. When I asked him what happened he wouldn't tell me. I told him whatever it was we would get through it, but he didn't seem to care anymore. After that, we have not seen or heard from him since." She paused, carefully choosing her next words. "Whatever it was he had done, or has done, I would have helped him. He is not dead to me, regardless of what his father says. But being our son does not make it alright for him to have done harm to someone else. All that blood… I know he hurt someone didn't he?"
"Do you remember when that was?" asked Bobby, ignoring her last question, but using his gentlest voice so he didn't frighten her off.
"It was right after Christmas in 1996. I remember because the tree was still up, and we had all that snow. His father gave him his trust fund shortly afterwards and we have not seen him since."
"Did you husband know about this incident?"
"No, I never told him." She seemed certain that he didn't know.
"Thank you Mrs. Wentworth," replied Alex. The older woman nodded and headed back towards the house. She looked even older than she had when they had first been introduced to her a few minutes ago.
"Late 1996, that's when the first killing took place."
"And they stopped in the summer of '97," replied Alex. "He's our guy."
Bobby nodded. "Now all we have to do is find him."
He watched as they pulled away from the huge white gates; the same gates that had been closed to him forever. How did they find out? He had always been so careful. Until the last one that is. After seeing them together his anger had reached its boiling point, and he couldn't control it. How after so many killings could he get careless? He was never careless. He would have to be extra diligent from here on. They were smarter than most, and he had made a mistake. He would be sure not to make any more. A devilish smirk formed on his face as an idea formed in his head and he started the car to follow them home.
TBC…………You like it? Review it!