Barclay, Linwood Novel 08 - Never saw it coming

fascinating, in fact, is that you brought this up
today
. That you happened to remind Mrs. Beaudry about this incident, about giving her a card. And this was before I spoke to you and told you we’d found your card on Mr. Garfield’s body. Don’t you find that curious?”
    There was a noise at the door behind them. They all turned and saw Matthew, backpack slung over his shoulder, coming into the house. He stopped short when he saw the three people—one of whom he’d never seen before—standing there.
    “Hey, sweetheart,” Keisha said, grateful for the interruption. She moved around Wedmore, greeted her son with a hug and helped him slide the backpack off his shoulders.
    “Hey . . . buddy,” Kirk said. Matthew didn’t look at him as she pulled off his winter coat.
    “Who are you?” Matthew asked the detective.
    “I’m Rona Wedmore,” she said, and Keisha was grateful that she had not identified herself as a police officer. But the feeling was short-lived.
    “Are you a cop?” he asked. “That’s a cop car out front, isn’t it? I can tell because it’s got those little hubcaps and the big antenna on the back.”
    “Yes,” she said. “I’m a cop.”
    “Cool,” he said. “How fast can your car go?”
    “I’ve never driven it flat out, but it can go pretty good.”
    “You ever chased anybody with it?”
    “Not that car. But back when I was in uniform, in a regular police car, I chased a couple of people.”
    “I’d like to do that,” Matthew said.
    “You have to be really careful, though,” Wedmore said. “If the chase starts getting too dangerous, innocent people can get hurt.”
    Keisha said, “Sweetheart, why don’t you go to your room while we finish up talking with the detective.”
    “You have to help me with my math,” he said.
    “We can do that later, okay?”
    “Okay,” he said, and walked away.
    “Nice boy,” Wedmore said.
    Keisha felt a lump in her throat. “Yes.”
    “Lots of questions about the car, but he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in why I might be here.”
    “He likes cars,” Kirk said. “Gonna grow up to be a real car nut, I bet. Kind of like me. You see those wheels over there? They’re for my truck.”
    Wedmore persisted with Keisha. “So, Ms. Ceylon, you didn’t answer my question.”
    “I’m sorry, I kind of lost track there.” Except she hadn’t.
    “Don’t you think it’s curious you’d go to all the trouble of reminding Mrs. Beaudry about the time she asked you for your business card, just before I was going to question you about why Mr. Garfield had one on him?”
    Keisha said nothing. Kirk filled the silence. “Like I said before, the woman’s a total Froot Loop. I mean, no disrespect intended, and Keisha, she does her best with these nutcases, but come on, you really going to believe anything a woman says who thinks she was Emily Lockhart or whoever you said?”
    Wedmore asked him, “So you think Mrs. Beaudry is wrong? That she never did take a card from Ms. Ceylon, and never did give it to her brother?”
    Kirk made a face that suggested his brain was hurting. “Oh, well, that part, that part sounds about right.”
    “Mrs. Beaudry strikes me as a—what’s the word—suggestible woman,” Wedmore said to Keisha. “Would you agree with that?”
    “Not . . . necessarily.”
    “I’m thinking, it wouldn’t be that hard to plant an idea in her head. That’s what I’m thinking you did with the card. You made her think you gave her a card, when you never gave her one at all.”
    “I gave her one,” Keisha said forcefully. “I’m sure I did.”
    “A couple of minutes ago, you didn’t have any memory of doing that.”
    “You’ve reminded me of some things, that’s all. There’s been a lot going on. I’m still not over being taken into that house, seeing all that blood.”
    “Sure, I can understand how upsetting it would be to see that again.”
    Keisha turned on her and said sharply, “I told you, I was never there. You hear me?
Never.
You may think that stupid little card puts me there, but that’s bullshit. Complete and total bullshit.”
    “Yeah,” Kirk said.
    Now Keisha looked at him, just as angrily. “Don’t you have something to do? An errand to run? A delivery?”
    He blinked. “Yeah, I do.” He nodded at Wedmore. “I should get going.”
    “I have you blocked in,” Wedmore said. “I’ll come out with you.”
    Kirk threw on his coat, pulling it down at the bottom to make sure it