Chapter 14
Alex stared down at the woman struggling on the floor, spitting and hissing like a cat.
Finally she stopped struggling and glared up at the two of them. “You don’t know anything,” she said in a broken voice.
Alex squatted down beside her. She needed to call this in, but she wanted answers first.
“Then explain it to us. Right now, before we go to the station and you’re in a whole different environment. You explain it to us. I promise we’ll do our best to understand.”
“I’m Andi with an i, but prefer Andy with a y.” Andy stared up at the two of them. She looked over at Macklin and said, “She was obsessed with you. Had a bunch of pictures of you. At the coffee shop. At the gym. At a restaurant. Walking down the street. She had them hidden away. But I saw her once going through them, over and over again.”
Alex stared at Macklin, watched his body take the blow. And she realized maybe this wasn’t about Marsha as much as it was about where Marsha’s focus had been. The name Andi was the feminized version of Andy, and, with her looks, she could pull off the male persona. Not to mention any question on her name could be put down to a spelling error.
“And you loved Marsha, didn’t you?” Alex said.
Andi’s lower lip trembled. She nodded her head. “I’ve loved her since forever,” she admitted. “But, for the longest time, all she had was eyes for Macklin. She would tell me about him all the time. And I would listen and smile, and she would let me love her for a while. Then she’d get bad, and she’d forget about me, and she’d focus on him again.”
“But that changed, didn’t it?”
“Somewhat. She got better. The doctors changed her medications, and she didn’t see Macklin anymore. It seemed like maybe she would be okay,” Andi said. But the tears still ran down her eyes. “And I thought maybe it would be time for us then.”
Alex waited for the woman to collect her thoughts. She’d already sent a text to Lance, giving them a heads-up. They’d be here in about ten minutes. She didn’t want to push Andi, but Alex really wanted to get the story.
Finally Andi said, “And then she started to go out—with other men. Other women. It’s like she didn’t know who she was anymore, didn’t know what she wanted, didn’t know what she could have. She was like a child, sampling it all. At first, I was indulgent. It was fun to see her happier. It’s like she had a whole new lease on life. Then I realized it was the medications. And it wasn’t really her. She’d go from crazy, wild, energetic to mad and despondent. She became almost suicidal. I talked her into seeing her doctor. But she was on one of her upswings then, and she kept telling him everything was fine, and she was only there because I was worried.
“In reality, she only wanted me to be there when she wanted me there. I did all the cleaning. Kept everything nice and neat and perfect all the time so she’d be happy with me. But it was hard. And then we had a fight. She threw me out.” Andi started to bawl. “I didn’t want to leave. I’d loved her for so long I couldn’t imagine my life without her. But she told me that she didn’t love me. That she’d never loved me. I was just convenient—said she didn’t have to be alone. She didn’t have to look at herself and see her lonely life. If I was around, she was happier because, in her mind, she was better than me, so her life didn’t suck so bad.”
Alex winced at that. She could feel Macklin’s shock. But, at the same time, she sensed compassion in him.
“And then what happened?” Alex prodded gently.
“I packed up my stuff. It took a lot. I was moving it all to the door, then out to the car. And I came back to get the last load. She was sitting there, watching TV, drinking, eating, and I wanted to beg. I wanted to get down on my knees and beg her to keep me. To tell me not to go, to tell me that she loved me as much as I loved her. I stopped in front of her, and I went to open my mouth and say something, but she looked up at me and laughed and said, ‘You’re so pathetic.’
“I closed my mouth, walked to the bookshelf behind her, picked up the hammer she always kept there. I turned around, and I hit her. Just once but I hit her hard,” Andi said, her voice low, slowly calming. “I put everything I had into it. I could feel the bones fall away beneath the blow. And I knew she was done for. But I also knew it wasn’t enough. I knew she could survive. I wanted to keep hitting her. I wanted to keep pounding on her with the rage flowing through me, but I knew, I knew the cops would then think it was a crime of passion. And that I could get caught. So I laid her down, and I slit her throat.”
Macklin sat back ever-so-slightly. He was keeping an eye on the door to make sure Andi couldn’t run away. But it was as if he was distancing himself from the pain Marsha must have gone through. The pain Andi had gone through.
But finally they knew who had killed Marsha.
“And after that?” Alex asked. She kept her voice low, calm, quiet.
Andi sniffled several times and said, “And then I went out over the balcony. I walked around to my car and left.”
“Did you ever go back inside?”
She shook her head. “No. I didn’t. I wanted to, but I didn’t.”
“How is it you knew she was going out with all those other people?” Macklin asked. “Did you keep track of her or watch her?”
Almost shamefaced, Andi nodded. “I did, but, more than that, I went to some of the same parties where she hooked up with these other people.”
“And was it you who broke into the other houses?”
Andi nodded.
“Why those people?” Macklin asked. “Why those women?”
“Because Marsha talked about them. She talked about how pretty they were, and how she would take them too bed and show them what it meant to have a real lover,” she said on a sob. “She was crazy with it. We would go to a party, and she’d point out all these people. Sometimes we just walked past a house, and she’d point them out.”
“But you believed her?”
“Of course she believed her. There was no other reason to go to such lengths,” Alex said sadly.
“And, if that’s true,” Macklin added, “why the break-ins? You never assaulted the women. Even when you had a chance. The last one was out cold in front of you.”
Andi opened her tear-drenched eyes to stare up at the two of them. Her gaze was both pathetic and hopeless. And yet pleading for understanding. “They weren’t attractive to me. I couldn’t touch them. I wanted to hit them and hurt them. But I knew they were just people. They weren’t anybody I should be angry at. But I couldn’t forget Marsha’s mocking words. I broke into their houses, thinking maybe I’d find proof Marsha had been there. Instead I found myself wandering through their houses, jealous, wondering what it was like to be there with Marsha. Our perfect little family that I kept hoping and dreaming would happen. I kept going back. I went back to all the houses,” she admitted. “I don’t even know if Marsha slept with any of those women who lived there. She said she did, but she said anything and everything to get the attention she wanted.”
“But, even after she was dead, you went into more houses.” Alex sat back and watched Andi’s face splinter its features right in front of her. As if watching a mask disintegrate, a personality break into many pieces. “And left photos at one house?”
Andi nodded and choked out the words. “I couldn’t stop. It seemed to be the only connection I had left to Marsha. If I could just keep touching those houses, touching the people, be in their spaces, be close to them, that meant I was close to Marsha because she’d been there too.” She sniffled. “So I left pieces of Marsha, photos in one house, a little kitty knickknack in another—even though I took a beating at that house the one time. It made me feel closer to her… more connected.”
Alex winced at that. There’d been no word on any knickknacks found that shouldn’t have been there. Still, it could have been well-hidden. She’d have to talk to the owners in the morning. See if they could find it.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Macklin’s voice was so deep and so soft.
Alex smiled inside. He was such a good man, even when he was face-to-face with a woman who had murdered somebody he knew. He was just making the process easier for Andi.
Andi started to bawl uncontrollably. She curled into a fetal position and cried, “I loved her. I loved her. I loved her.”
Alex sat back and looked up at Macklin. There was such sadness and grief in his eyes. She gently stroked Andi’s hair. “Why Betty’s house? Why did you go to her house?”
“After Marsha kicked me out, and I had killed her, I had no place to go,” Andi admitted between choking tears. “I knew that house was empty. I’d been in there to look. It just seemed so much like a home that I stayed there. I fixed the camera feed so no one would know. I got the instructions off the internet. Sorry …” She hiccupped. “I needed to stay there. I needed a place that felt right. I didn’t have any money. I had been living with Marsha for most of the last year. But it wasn’t so good with us together. We were always broke, always high, always partying too much, and crying too much.” She lay there, taking great big gasping breaths. “I didn’t want to kill her. It hurts so much.”
In the distance Alex could hear sirens.
Andi shook visibly now. “I’m going to jail, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Yes, you are. And there’ll be lots of questions and lots of interviews. But you’ll get through it.”
Andi stared at Alex through her tears. “I didn’t think you’d catch me. I figured, as long as I didn’t hurt anybody too bad, you wouldn’t care.”
“But you hurt Marsha,” Alex said quietly. “And you terrorized those other people.”
She started to bawl again. “I’m sorry.”
“When we get you to the police station, we’ll make sure to get you a lawyer, okay? And a doctor to examine you.”
“I think I need help.” Andi sobbed. “I just really want Marsha back.”
Alex nodded. She understood. For that was the one thing Andi would never get again.
*
Macklin, now fully dressed, watched as the police came in and escorted Andi out. Alex was busy talking with the officers. When she finally separated herself from the chaos, she came to him and said, “I have to go down to the station.”
He nodded. “And I’m going home and getting some sleep.”
She gently stroked his arm. “Thank you,” she said. “You were very good with her.”
His gaze followed the police car that left with Andi in the back. “The world is a safer place with her behind bars. But I think, in her own way, she is just as sick as Marsha.”
“I’m sure she was. But that’s for the lawyers and the doctors to sort out. My job was to take her off the streets and to let everybody know they are okay now. I’ve done that.”
He looked down at her and smiled, flicked a few strands of loose hair off her forehead, and said, “You’re very good at your job.”
She shook her head. “No. But I am learning.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“Well, it’s just about breakfast time, but chances are you’ll sleep right through it. With any luck, I will too.” He took a glance at his watch. “How long will you be at the station?”
She reached for his arm and checked his watch. “Probably at least two hours.”
He nodded. “How about I meet you outside the office in two hours then?”
She turned and searched his gaze. “What about going to sleep?”
He grinned. “Sleep’s overrated. I might catch a couple hours. But I might just come down to the station and wait for you.”
“If I’m lucky, and I work hard, I might be done in an hour.”
He held out his arm. “Then why don’t you get started. As soon as we get finished, we can come back here and sleep together.”
“That’s all you want to do? Sleep?” she asked in a teasing voice. “Are you sure something else isn’t on your mind?”
“When we get back, it will be sleep on my mind,” he said in a firm voice. “When we wake up again, that’s a whole different story.” He stopped, pulled her into his arms, tilted her head up, and kissed her gently. “I’m very glad that’s over with.”
She smiled and pulled his head back down. “Hold that thought. Let’s get through this next hour. And then we can enjoy life and all it has to offer.”
He kissed her deeply. When he lifted his head, he said, “Now that’s a date worth keeping. Promise?”
She chuckled, hooked her arm through his, and said, “Promise.”