Page 31 of Haunted By Sin
“What can you tell me about Sheila?” Sylvie asked, deciding not to wait for Mitch. Tyler might be more inclined to answer questions without someone else around whom he clearly wasn’t comfortable with. “Was she a good foster mother?”
Tyler’s jaw clenched as he turned to stare at Andrea. Andrea slowly inhaled while giving Sylvie a tight smile. She certainly had her answer.
“Sheila was okay. She didn’t go above and beyond, and she left us alone for the most part.” Andrea subconsciously began to pick at her cuticles. “I’ve been in worse homes.”
“We were walking, talking checks. It’s that simple.” Tyler’s tone was flat. “When the first of the month came, we’d get a home-cooked meal. The rest of the time? We were on our own. Sheila gave us all one shelf…collectively. Sometimes there was food on it, other times it was bare.”
Sylvie camouflaged her wince by glancing down at her wrist. She had gotten used to wearing a smartwatch to monitor her heart rate during her recovery, and she liked that the watch linked to her phone. The fact that Bit would be able to track her should something else just as tragic happen gave her a sense of security.
“Miss Simpson, is that how you—”
“Call me Andrea,” she replied with a shrug.
“Andrea, is that how you recall what it was like to live here?” Sylvie inquired, curious as to why someone would opt to stay in a place with such appalling memories. “I’m aware that Sheila left you her home, but you could have opted to sell the house for cash.”
“Knowing that I have a permanent place to live is worth more than what a realtor could get me for this place,” Andrea said with an unmistakable bitterness. “Besides, Sheila treated the girls better than the boys. I actually didn’t move out when I turned eighteen. I was on a cleaning crew at a local motel. I offered to pay rent, and Sheila took me up on it. I was one of the last fosters in this place anyway. Her health had started to take a turn for the worse.”
“Was Sheila ever physically abusive to any of the foster children?”
“No.”
Both Tyler and Andrea had spoken in unison, but it was clear that Sheila had done enough damage without needing to lift a hand. Sylvie began to warm up to the idea that their unsub might have been one of the children placed in Sheila’s care.
“It’s my understanding that Sheila had about thirty-six children in and out of her home over a span of fifteen years. Do you know if any of them would have wanted to hurt Sheila?”
“No,” Tyler said a bit too hesitantly for Sylvie’s liking, but she got the sense that he wasn’t hiding information as much as he was thinking back to his childhood. “As Andrea said, we were the last batch of kids to be placed here before Sheila’s health started to decline. She—”
“…was a cold-hearted bitch.”
A deep voice came through the screen door before it swung open and revealed a tall, lean man whom Sylvie recognized as Mitch Swilling. The picture that Bit had uploaded to their files must have been from a time when the man had an affinity for facial hair. He was currently clean-shaven, and his thin lips were compressed in disgust.
“Mitch,” Tyler greeted in a rather deadpan tone. It was obvious that the two men didn’t get along. “It’s been a while.”
“Years, but who’s counting?” Mitch had yet to take his gaze off Sylvie, but it had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with her reason for requesting to speak with them. “You the fed?”
“Consultant.” Sylvie stood from the chair, her movements deliberate. She shook his hand, determined not to display any emotion when he tightened his grip more firmly than needed. “I appreciate you taking time off work to speak with me, Mr. Swilling.”
Sylvie had purposely phrased her statement in such a way as to prompt a typical person’s reply, which would normally contain detailed information. Considering that Bit hadn’t been able to ascertain an employer for Mitch, she was interested as to how the man made his living.
Unfortunately, Mitch didn’t take the bait.
“Why are you here asking questions about Sheila?”
Sylvie reclaimed her seat, not letting on that Mitch’s decision to remain standing unsettled her. It was clear that had been his intention, but she had learned from the best not to wear her emotions on her sleeve.
“I’ve got to say that I’m a bit curious about this line of questioning, too,” Tyler said after he let his gaze slide away from Mitch in disgust. Depending on how long Theo wanted to remain in Ann Arbor, Sylvie would suggest speaking with each of these people on an individual basis. They were liable to garner more information that way. “You asked if we knew of anyone who wanted to hurt Sheila, but it wasn’t like she was murdered last year. She had a stroke.”
“We have it on good authority that a donor recipient’s life is in danger, and we believe that the imminent threat is in connection to the transplant operation,” Sylvie replied without giving away too many pertinent details. “We’re merely touching base with anyone associated with the donor, the recipient, and those individuals involved in the operation.”
“Are you saying that she was murdered?” Andrea asked in confusion.
“No, I’m not saying anything of the sort. There are just some details that we need to confirm regarding her status as an organ donor.”
Tyler’s hand found the back of his neck once more. He didn’t handle stress well, and she figured that he popped antacids daily. Working on commission probably didn’t help his anxiety level, either. Mitch, on the other hand, didn’t react to her response one way or the other.
“You mentioned that the three of you were the last of the foster children placed in Sheila’s home, but did you ever meet any of the previous foster kids? Maybe someone who harbored resentment toward her?”
“We all resented her.” Mitch didn’t mince his words. “The foster system is broken, and by the time the kids reach their teens, they know the difference between a bad placement and one that can get them through until the age of eighteen. This place was the latter. Doesn’t mean it was all peaches and cream. You still haven’t answered our questions.”