The Bodies Left Behind

adopted?”
    Michelle blinked. Then said, “He needs me.”
    “He’s being well taken care of. He’s fine. . . . Now, you’ve been arrested for murder and attempted murder and assault. You’ve been advised of your rights. You can withdraw from this interview at any time and speak to an attorney. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
    Michelle glanced at the red light on the video recorder and said, “Yes.”
    “Do you wish to have an attorney present?”
    “No, I’ll talk to you, Brynn.” She gave a laugh. “After all we’ve been through . . . why, we’re sisters, don’t you feel that? I shared with you, you told me about your problems at home.” She glanced at the camera with a sympathetic wince. “Your son, your husband. . . . We’re like soul mates. That’s pretty rare, Brynn. Really.”
    “So, you’re waiving your right to an attorney?”
    “Absolutely. This is all a misunderstanding. I can explain everything.” Her voice was soft, reflecting the burden of the injustice that had befallen her.
    “Now, why we’re here,” Brynn began. “We’d like astatement from you, telling the truth about what happened that night. It’ll be much easier on you, on your family—”
    “What about my family?” she snapped. “You didn’t talk to them, did you? My parents?”
    “Yes.”
    “You didn’t have any right to do that.” Then she calmed and gave a hurt smile. “Why’d you do that? They hate me. They lied to you, whatever they said. They’re jealous of me. I was on my own from day one. I made a success of my life. They’re losers.”
    Brynn’s research had revealed that this was a woman whose background appeared normal and stable but whose personality was not. She’d grown up in a middleclass family in Madison, Wisconsin. Her parents still lived there, mother fifty-seven, father ten years older. According to them, they’d tried hard but had thrown up their hands at what Michelle’s mother called the “vindictive little thing.” Her father called her “dangerous.”
    The couple, horrified at what their daughter was accused of, though not completely surprised, explained how Michelle had made a career out of jumping from man to man—and in two cases a woman—living off them, then picking fights and scaring the hell out of her lovers with her enraged, vengeful behavior; ultimately they were grateful to see her go. Then she’d be onto someone else—but only if she had that someone else all lined up ahead of time. She’d been arrested for assault twice—attacking boyfriends who’d dumped her. She’d stalked several men and had three restraining orders in force.
    Michelle now said, “You can’t trust anything my family says. I was abused, you know.”
    “There’s no record of that.”
    “How’s there going to be a record? You think my father would admit it? And they threw out my complaint. My father and the local police chief, they were in on it together. All I could do was get away. I had to fend for myself. It was hard for me, so hard. Nobody ever helped me.”
    “It’ll be easier,” Brynn continued, deflecting the woman’s sob story, “if you cooperate. There’re still a few things we’d like to know.”
    “I wasn’t going to hurt you,” she whined. “I just wanted to talk.”
    “You pretended to be the hotel clerk. You changed your voice to sound Hispanic.”
    “Because you wouldn’t understand. Nobody understands me. If I’d been me, somebody would have arrested me and I’d never have the chance to explain. I need you to understand, Brynn. It’s important to me.”
    “You had a weapon.”
    “Those men at the house . . . they tried to kill me! I was scared. I’ve been the victim of attacks before. My father, a couple of boyfriends. I have restraining orders out.”
    She’d filed complaints against several lovers for domestic assault but the magistrates had rejected them when the police determined that the men had solid alibis, and concluded that Michelle had filed out of spite.
    “You have three orders against you. ”
    She smiled. “That’s how the system works. They believe the abuser. They don’t believe the victim.”
    “Let’s talk about the night of April seventeenth.”
    “Oh, I can explain that.”
    “Go ahead.”
    “I was scheduled to have a meeting with Steven Feldman, the caseworker. I suspected Brad had been abused by one of his teachers.”
    “Okay. Was this reported anywhere?”
    “That’s what I was going to