when he should have.” I wasn’t sure what that meant.
“We understand you and your ex-husband had some differences of opinion with regard to custody of your son, William.” I consulted my notes. “For about fifteen months, you’ve been in and out of the court system over visitation.”
She snorted. “Saying it was a difference of opinion is like saying it’s a tad nippy today.” She blew a stream of smoke at me in defiance. I didn’t react. “Arnold was never around, and when he was, he could always get called away. I didn’t want him foisting Billy on those ancient neighbors of his. But when he had him, I could never make plans so I could be available for him to dump Billy back on me. I had him all the time even with Arnold’s visits, so it made more sense to petition to stop visitation. Arnold didn’t have what it took to be a father. Not a good one. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, though.” She glanced pointedly at my ringless left hand. “You’re not married, so you wouldn’t know about work-life balance. You don’t have to do it.”
I bristled, but remained stoic. Let her make her assumptions. “Fifteen months is a long time to fight with someone. Sick of it?”
Her spine stiffened. “Hell yes, I was sick of it. Cost me money I could have been putting away for Billy’s future. Doesn’t mean I killed him.”
“Not directly,” Myah goaded. It earned her a glare.
“I didn’t. Believe it or not, I’m not thrilled Arnold’s dead,” Ms. Stevenson said. “He tried to make the city better, safer, even if it was at Billy’s and my expense. World’s worse off with him gone. Maybe not my particular world, but I’m not the only one here, am I?”
Myah and I said nothing, our silence and disapproving looks intended to make her feel the need to explain. We didn’t wait long.
“I don’t know who killed him either.” She stamped her cigarette out on a flat surface of the giant ashtray and lit another. “And before you go thinking I might have hired someone, don’t. I don’t have that kind of money, since the lawyers have bled me dry. But if you want to check my whereabouts on the night in question, I was having a very nice, very public birthday dinner for my boyfriend with my son and my boyfriend’s parents. We went back to my house for cake and ice cream, and Jake stayed the night. Before that, I went to work, went home, took Billy to basketball, and went to my knitting circle on Thursday nights. Same old, same old, and I didn’t meet some shady character under an overpass to discuss bumping Arnold off.”
“Boyfriend’s full name and address? His parents, too,” Myah sniped, writing it down. “Knitting circle location, basketball league, and the number of a colleague who can vouch for your presence at work.”
Melissa’s glare went stony and she delivered the information with barely checked contempt. “Is that all?”
“We’ll be in touch,” I replied, turning on my heel and walking away before I could say anything she could complain about to Kittridge.
“What a lovely woman,” Myah grumbled as we climbed into the car. “And calculating.”
“Calculating or not, she’s not a good candidate. It’s not against the law to hate someone.”
“It should be. But you’re right. Stevenson’s house wasn’t merely tossed, it was destroyed. Someone angry did it, and while Princess Selfish there is certainly angry enough, she was all of what, five-two and a hundred-ten? Not strong enough to do the damage. Hiring someone wouldn’t have had the rage element.”
“Unless she hired them and told them to really tear through it.” But it was moot. She probably wasn’t our perp.
“Doubtful she’d include rape in the list of the killer’s to-dos.” Myah sighed, taking off her gloves and splaying her fingers in front of the heat registers. “Back to square one.”
“Sort of,” I said grimly. “We don’t have to talk to her again at least.”
“There is