Free Murder My Love by Victor Keyloun Page A

Alice said she understood. Wilson began to escort her to the front door and said, “If anything comes to mind, I mean anything, please know my office is always open to you.” Alice looked at her intently and said, “I will.”
    As they were walking Abby asked, “By the way, why were you in Arizona?”
    “A convention.”
    “Oh?”
    “It’s not what you think. I supervise thirty claims adjusters at Federated Insurance. It was all business.”
    “It sounds like you have a lot of responsibility.”
    “You have no idea.”
    Abby ushered her out the door and said good-bye. She returned to her office and slumped in her chair, emotionally exhausted. She could not get out of her mind the image of Chicciarelli seated before her, rocking her leg back and forth. While Abby was deep in thought, a woman among the crowd wormed her way into the reception area and stood before the desk sergeant’s window. She said she was related to Stanley Klopowitz and she wanted to speak with whomever was in charge of the investigation. Skinner recognized the name and immediately ushered her into one of the smaller rooms that were used for informal interviews.
    “Can I get you anything to drink?” he asked.
    “No. No, thank you.”
    “I’ll call the officer in charge. He’ll be with you in a few minutes. As you saw when you were outside, it’s a little hectic around here right now.”
    “I’ll wait as long as necessary. It’s been a long trip.”
    Skinner briefed the lieutenant and gave the Chief a “heads up.” Abby felt that she’d had enough with one emotional interview and couldn’t handle another. She deferred to Stanton by saying she was writing up a report about the Chicciarelli interview. Besides, if she was also present it might overwhelm the woman. Within moments Stanton entered the interview room and apologized for the delay.
    “Just for the record, ma’am, state your name and your relationship with Mr. Klopowitz.”
    “My name is Deborah Kline and I’m Stanley’s aunt.”
    Stanton almost blurted “holy shit” but caught himself.
    “I’m really sorry for your loss Miss, er, Mrs. Kline…”
    He apologized for her having been notified by the Wilkes-Barre Police, but under the circumstances his department could not inform her in person. Stanton went on to relate how they had found her nephew but withheld the morbid details. Kline, in turn, confirmed her relationship with Greenwell. She was her sister. Kline was her married name.
    Stanton leaned forward and held her hand, “This must be devastating, to lose your sister and your nephew. I am so sorry.”
    Kline told Stanton that there was a third sister, Stanley’s mother who had died of hepatitis. Upon her death Stanley had lived with Mrs. Kline.
    “So, Stanley was your nephew who came to see his other aunt, Miss Greenwell. Do you know the reason for the visit?”
    “No I don’t,” she said emphatically, seeming to indicate that she was at a loss to understand how he’d gotten involved in such a mess. She confirmed that he had traveled by bus, as he could not afford to buy or rent an automobile.
    Stanton asked, “Was Miss Greenwell ever married, or if there was bad blood between her and a former suitor?”
    Kline demurred. Stanton pursued the same line of inquiry. He asked her if Linda was recently in any kind of relationship.
    “She was never married, if that’s what you’re asking,” she crisply replied.
    “Ma’am, I’m just asking, was she in a relationship with anyone?”
    At that point Deborah Kline broke down in tears. Stanton placed a box of tissues on the table in front of her. When she regained her composure she related that her sister had lived in Vermont for many years in several towns before moving to West Warwick. She had a close relationship with a woman in one of those towns. She knew nothing more other than that the woman had four children. It just seemed odd to the entire family that her sister never had a man in her life. She moved