The Intersection of Purgatory and Paradise by A.J. Thomas

Author:A.J. Thomas
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-03-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

DOUG TRIPLE-CHECKED the address in the case file before climbing out of the cruiser. The Owens family lived in a sprawling ranch-style home with an immaculate lawn and perfect flower beds. The curtains were open, and a single car sat in front of the closed garage. There was no flood of family and neighbors, no friends of Caleb Owens lingering to share the family’s grief. There was just Mrs. Owens, in khaki shorts and a light pink shirt, adjusting mulch in one of the flower beds. She wore a white sun hat and pastel green gardening gloves.

“Ma’am?” Doug approached her slowly.

From a distance she didn’t look like a woman who’d lost her only child. But when she glanced up at him, Doug noticed the swollen bags beneath her eyes. Her skin was pallid and gaunt, as if she’d been ill, but she greeted him with a smile.

“Mrs. Owens?” he asked to be sure. “I’m Sergeant Heavy Runner, Elkin Sheriff’s Department. I’m sorry to hear about your loss.”

Her smile stayed fixed in place, rigid. “Thank you for your sympathy,” she said automatically.

“We’re working on closing Caleb’s case, and I was hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes. Is this a bad time?”

She gestured toward the garden. “This is the only thing around the house that needs to be done. The longer I can drag it out, the better. I’m not very good at being idle, I’m afraid.”

“I have a friend who’s like that,” Doug said gently. “When something is bothering him, he can’t sit still to save his life.”

She sniffled and nodded slowly, her sun hat bobbing up and down. “Would you like some iced tea?”

“No, thank you. Just a few minutes of your time, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

Inside a spotless kitchen that might have been decorated by his mother, Doug sat down with Mrs. Owens and went over the typed copy of her statement with her, had her sign it, and left her husband’s copy so he could sign it when he got home. Listening to Doug read the statement coaxed a trail of silent tears from the older woman’s eyes, but she listened intently, nodding every now and then.

“All right.” Doug slipped her statement back into the file. “I have a couple of questions. The gun found in Caleb’s bedroom, the gun he used, is licensed to your husband. In his statement, he said he kept the gun locked in a safe in your bedroom.”

“That’s right. Caleb was in the Pathways Clinic up in Kalispell from February to the end of April. After he quit school in January, he started drinking, doing drugs even. He spiraled out of control so fast, it’s like he became a different person overnight. When Caleb came home from treatment, we were warned to keep an eye on him and to keep anything he could use to hurt himself locked away. We’ve always kept the gun in the safe—that didn’t change—but I put everything else in there too.

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