into the room and commenced to scratch at the scarred corner of a faded floral couch. Then it jumped up onto the coffee table, scattering a stack of needlework and Weight Watchers magazines.
Maggie and Evan could hear muffled voices down the hall, first Gina’s, then the tenor, slightly whining tone of her son. A few moments later, Gina walked back into the room, trying not to wring her hands. She was followed by a rumpled looking Stuart, who was wearing gray sweatpants and pulling a navy tank over his head.
Stuart looked more irritated than worried, but the worry was there, too, as he looked from Evan to Maggie. Maggie got a quick up-and-down, with an extra moment spent on her chest. Evan didn’t. Maggie thought about shooting him, but introduced herself instead.
“Mr. Martin, I’m Lt. Redmond from the Franklin County Sheriff’s Office, and this is Detective Caldwell from Port St. Joe PD,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“If we can all take a seat for just a moment, we’d just like to ask you a few questions,” Maggie said.
The mother sat down hard on the couch, but the son remained standing, scratching idly at his unimpressive midriff.
“About what?” he asked.
“Zoe Boatwright,” Maggie said.
“Zoe!” Gina exclaimed. “What about Zoe?”
“Yeah, what about her?”
“Could we take a seat, Mr. Martin?” Maggie asked. She gave him half a smile, but it wasn’t all that warm.
“Yeah, whatever,” the kid said. He sat down next to his mother. Maggie sat down in the recliner. Evan sat down in an upholstered chair next to an open sewing basket full of yarn, and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“What does Stuart have to do with Zoe?” the woman demanded, but her voice was trembling.
“I don’t have nothing to do with Zoe,” the kid said.
“What is going on?” his mother asked.
“Zoe was attacked in her home early Sunday morning,” Maggie said.
“Man, I was right here in bed Sunday morning!” Stuart said.
“That’s right,” his mother said. “He came home early Saturday night, and he didn’t get up until late.”
“Ms. Merritt, you said you asked Zoe’s aunt to take her in because the house was too small for the three of you, is that right?”
“Well, yes,” the woman answered.
“Or was it because your son has had some problems with girls?’ Maggie asked.
Gina just stared back at Maggie. Stuart started cracking the knuckle of one finger.
“Stuart was asked to leave the University of Florida because of a date rape complaint,” Maggie continued. “Isn’t that right, Stuart?”
“He was never charged by the police,” the woman said, her voice an octave higher than it had been when she’d answered the door. “The girl didn’t press charges. It was a misunderstanding.”
“Between Stuart and the girl, or Stuart and the law?” Maggie asked.
“I didn’t rape her,” Stuart said, trying for a little defiance in his tone. “She came on to me at the party.”
“According to our information,” Evan said politely, “the girl agreed to go hang out with you. But when you took her to the park, she asked you to stop touching her and to take her to her dorm.”
“That’s what she says,” Stuart said, his lip curling just a bit. “She was into it, man. She was just stoned and drunk.”
“Stoned on what?” Maggie asked.
“How do I know? I don’t do drugs, but there was all kinds of stuff at that party.”
“Stuart doesn’t go to parties like that anymore,” his mother said.
“Stuart probably doesn’t get invited very often,” Maggie said quietly. Stuart looked at Maggie a little less appreciatively. “Ms. Merritt, did you ask Zoe to leave because something happened between her and your son?”
“No!” the woman answered.
“Nothing happened between me and that chick,” Stuart said. “She’s a kid.”
Maggie didn’t look at him, stayed focused on his mother. “Or because you were concerned that something might happen?” she asked her.
“No,
C. J. Cherryh
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