Page 111 of Guilty Mothers
He had to accept that his mother had outplayed him. Their life as he knew it was over. He was no longer her captor or her controller, but the big question remained. Would he own up and tell the truth about what had happened to James? Or would he reverse the bus his mother had thrown herself under and in effect get away with murder?
‘Oh, Mom, I don’t know what to say. You’re not a murderer.’
Tiff held her breath. Was he really going to admit to it, or would he secure his mother’s future behind bars?
Logan sighed. ‘He must have really hurt you for you to do something like this. I suppose there was a part of you that must have wanted to get caught.’
Tiff held her breath tighter.
‘I mean, why else would you keep all of his fishing stuff in the garage?’
Euphoria shot through her as Penn rushed into the room. Olivia had claimed to have pushed it all into the lake.
Only the real killer knew where the kit was.
‘Logan Dench, I am arresting you for the murder of James Nixon…’
Tiff tuned out as she reached across the table and squeezed the hand of the bewildered woman.
‘It’s okay, Olivia. It’s time to take your life back.’
SEVENTY-THREE
‘Stace, are you sure about this?’ Kim asked as Bryant pulled up at the address they’d been given by the constable.
‘I know, boss, but that’s where she lives. I’m telling you there’s something weird here. I’ve read those blogs five times now, and every time Judith tells the story of her childhood, it all gets a little bit worse.’
‘You think she’s embellishing?’
‘I dunno what it is, but I’m just not getting any raw emotion from her words. Unless she’s able to recount the horror from a purely factual and objective viewpoint without any sentiment, then there’s definitely something off.’
‘Okay, Stace, we’ll let you know,’ Kim said before ending the call. Kim hadn’t been able to shift the feeling that something wasn’t right with Judith, and Stacey’s instinct about the blogs had cemented the unease. The fact that she had links to two of the daughters warranted further investigation, and where better to start than hearing from her drunk and abusive mother?
The semi-detached home on the edge of Brockmoor didn’t look like the dwelling of a barely functioning alcoholic who had been in and out of prison for a quarter of a century. They’d interviewed many alcoholic ex-cons over the years and very few of them lived like this.
‘Could’ve got clean, guv,’ Bryant offered as they approached the front door.
Yeah, wouldn’t that be a convenient little detail for Judith to leave out of her monologues?Kim thought.
The door was opened by a slender woman in her early fifties. She wore a kitchen apron covered with pictures of baked beans. The smell of something delicious had followed her to the door.
‘Mrs Pugh?’ Kim asked, taking a good sniff. There was no obvious smell of alcohol.
‘Close enough. Who’s asking?’
Kim produced her ID.
‘Oh, good Lord, what’s happened?’
‘Nothing,’ Kim reassured quickly. ‘May I just check that Judith Palmer is your daughter?’
A sigh. ‘Would you like to come in?’
Kim nodded, taking the invitation as an affirmative answer to her question.
‘Is she okay?’ the woman asked, heading along a short hallway.
‘Alive and well the last time we spoke to her,’ Kim said, following her to the kitchen and the epicentre of the delicious aroma.