“You had never heard their names before you saw them on the news?”
“Never. I . . . I knew Vaughn had started cheating on me again when I filed for divorce eight months ago. I didn’t care who it was. What did it matter? It was always a different version of the same young co-ed with perky boobs and a tight ass.” Despite her bitter words, her face was more sullen than angry, and she looked away again.
“I see.” Jimmy paused. “You said your husband had started cheating on you again. Do you know how many times he’d strayed before?”
Alicia laughed, but it sounded brittle and died a quick death. “Too many to count, and those are only the ones I knew about, or suspected. Vaughn craves attention, Detective. He’s a classic narcissist.”
Narcissist. Maybe. Maybe not. People liked to throw that word around without actually knowing what it meant. Selfish asshole? Yeah, Jimmy had diagnosed that the minute he’d met the professor. Jimmy gave Alicia Merrick a sympathetic look.
“Had you been to his office on campus recently, Ms. Merrick? Say February?” The girl, Aria Glazer, had written in her diary that she and the professor had almost been caught by the “W.” He and Cope were working under the assumption that it was the wife, she’d been referring to. Ms. Merrick. But, of course, them being almost caught, meant Ms. Merrick may not even have known about the close call. A small mercy for the poor woman in front of him.
Her brows drew in. “February? Probably. If I had paperwork or something to drop off to Vaughn, I went to his office and put it in his mailbox. It was quickest that way, and I wouldn’t necessarily have to see him.”
“I see.”
“One of them came to our house years ago,” she cut in, voice clipped. “She seemed high on something, stood in the yard and shouted for a while. We called the police. They escorted her away. I suppose there’d be a police report.” The look on her face remained glum. Jimmy made a note to look that up as soon as he got back to the office.
“Thank you, Ms. Merrick, that could be helpful.” He paused. “Do you remember Josie Stratton as one of the women your husband had a relationship with?”
Alicia frowned, giving her head a slight shake. “Josie Stratton . . . her name does sound familiar, but honestly, Detective, I tried not to learn any specific names. I caught him a couple of times, heard one or two in his office when I made a surprise visit to campus.” She lowered her eyes, swallowed as though she was remembering the sounds. Jimmy didn’t figure it was just conversation she’d overheard. She seemed to gather herself and look up. “Like I said, one of them even came to our home. But it only did me more harm than good to think of them by their names. I’m sure you can understand that.”
It’d been easier to dehumanize them. He wondered how she’d thought of them in her head? Those women, maybe? Those sluts? “Yes,” Jimmy answered. “I can understand that. The name Josie Stratton may sound familiar because she was the woman who was abducted nine years ago and bore her attacker’s baby before finally escaping.”
Alicia’s mouth opened in shock as she stared. “Oh my God. Yes.” She shook her head, closing her eyes for a moment as though in disbelief. “You’re saying that she was one of Vaughn’s s—” She cleared her throat, her cheeks going red. “She was one of the women Vaughn had an affair with?”
One of Vaughn’s sluts, was what she’d been about to say, Jimmy was sure of it. He’d been right. “Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Someone is abducting and killing women Vaughn had affairs with? Is that what you’re saying?”
“I don’t know that that is part of the suspect’s motive, or that it plays a part at all at this point. It sure is an interesting coincidence though, and one that raises all sorts of questions. For instance, if someone was harming these women because of their connection to the professor, who would be angry enough by these relationships to do such heinous things to these young victims?”
Alicia watched Jimmy for a moment, her eyes narrowing a fraction. “You’re not suggesting . . . oh my God, you are. You’re suggesting I was angry enough to kill these women? Or to . . . to have these women killed?” Her mouth fell open in what appeared to be abject shock as she brought a hand to her chest.
“I’m not suggesting, anything, ma’am. I’m simply trying to understand the connection between these three victims who suffered greatly, two of whom had their lives cut short, and the fact that they each had an illicit affair with your ex-husband.”
Alicia was quiet for a moment. She sat back against the pile of pillows behind her, looking as though if she leaned too far, she might be sucke
d into some void they created. “Wait, didn’t the police catch the man who abducted the Stratton woman?”
“He took his life before police could arrest him.”
“Right,” Alicia murmured, looking off to the side. “I remember that now. Vaughn was very . . .” Her voice trailed off as her eyes met Jimmy’s.
“What, ma’am?”
“Vaughn was very interested in that case. He stopped everything to watch any news segment about it that came on. I thought . . . I thought it was just because Josie Stratton had attended the university.” She chewed at the inside of her cheek. “But it wasn’t just that. It was because he knew her. Intimately.”
Jimmy didn’t say anything. Alicia Merrick looked very small suddenly, and it wasn’t the pillows engulfing her. She seemed to be shrinking emotionally. Was this woman capable of hiring someone to torture and kill women her husband had betrayed her with? Not just hire one killer, but two, after the first one blew his brains out? Jimmy would bank on no, unless she was a damn fine actress. And moreover, the crimes against Josie, Aria, and Miriam were personal, not the work of some hired hitman. Still, something was not right here. They just didn’t have enough information to figure out what it was.
Jimmy took a card from his pocket and leaned forward, handing it to Alicia Merrick. “If you think of anything else that might help this case, please don’t hesitate to call. We’ll be in touch if we have more questions.” He’d have a tail put on Ms. Merrick too, at least for a couple of days. It would be interesting to see what she’d do after digesting the news he’d just delivered.
He stood, and she extracted herself from the nest of throw pillows, standing as well. “I will. Let me show you out, Detective.”
As Jimmy walked to the front door, he noticed a large photograph of two pretty blonde girls hanging on the wall that he hadn’t noticed on the way in, because he’d been looking toward the living room where Ms. Merrick had led him. He slowed, stopping in front of the picture. “Your daughters?” he asked.
Ms. Merrick came up beside him, offering the first genuine-looking smile she’d given since he’d introduced himself to her. “Yes. Ophelia and Esme.” She glanced at Jimmy. “I guess you know their father teaches English literature,” she said, obviously in explanation of their literary names. She looked back to the picture. Both girls heavily resembled their father. “They took the divorce very hard.”
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said sincerely, “for all that your family has gone through recently.”