CHAPTER THREE
The Richmond Police Department's interview room was smaller than remembered.
Maybe, she thought idly, the larger spaces at the FBI field office had spoiled her.
They were also a little tough-looking, with pale green walls and a metal table that had seen better days.
Jake Bennett sat hunched forward in his chair, his hands clasped tightly together on the table's surface.
At twenty-eight, he looked younger than Kate had anticipated, with dark hair that needed cutting and eyes that were red-rimmed from what appeared to be hours of crying.
When Kate and DeMarco entered the room, Jake looked up with an expression that combined hope and desperation. He wore the same clothes he'd apparently been arrested in that morning: khakis and a button-down shirt that suggested he'd been dressed for job interviews rather than murder.
"Mr. Bennett," Kate said, settling into the chair across from him. "I'm Agent Wise with the FBI, and this is Agent DeMarco. We'd like to ask you some questions about your mother's death."
Jake's face crumpled at the mention of his mother, and he pressed his palms against his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”
“How are you holding up?” DeMarco asked.
He shrugged, and it seemed that the simple act took far too much effort for him.
"I keep thinking this is some kind of nightmare and I'm going to wake up," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
"She was fine when I left yesterday morning.
We had coffee together at the kitchen table, and she was asking about my interviews. "
Kate studied his body language carefully.
In her experience, genuine grief was difficult to fake convincingly, and Jake's distress appeared authentic.
His shoulders shook slightly as he tried to compose himself, and when he looked up at her, his eyes held the raw pain she'd seen in countless family members who'd lost someone unexpectedly.
It was one part of the job she absolutely did not miss at all.
"Jake," she said gently, "I know this is incredibly difficult, but we need to understand what happened yesterday. Can you walk us through your day?"
"You're the first person who's been kind to me since they arrested me," Jake said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Everyone else acts like I'm already convicted. Like it’s an open and closed case."
Kate felt a familiar tug of sympathy. She'd encountered many suspects over the years, and she'd learned to distinguish between those who were genuinely confused and grief-stricken and those who were performing innocence. Jake's reaction felt real in a way that was difficult to manufacture.
"Tell us about your mother," Kate said. "How was she doing since you moved back home?"
Jake's expression brightened slightly despite his tears.
"She was so excited to have me back. I mean, I know the circumstances weren't great because I lost my job, but she kept saying how happy she was that I was home again.
" He paused, gathering his thoughts. "She hadn't been doing very well on her own since Dad died two years ago. She tried to act like she was fine, but I could tell she was lonely. But she’d never admit it. "
"How could you tell?" DeMarco asked.
"Little things. She'd call me three times a week just to chat, which wasn't like her before. And when I told her I needed to move back home temporarily, she was almost relieved. Like she'd been waiting for an excuse to have someone in the house again."
"What did she do to prepare for your return?"
"She renovated her whole craft room for me," Jake said, his voice breaking again.
"Moved out all her sewing stuff, bought new furniture, even picked out curtains she thought I'd like.
I kept telling her not to go to so much trouble, but she insisted…
said it had been my room originally, anyway.
It was the room I had when I lived there…
had it since I was like five." He shook his head.
"She was hovering constantly. Making my bed, doing my laundry, cooking all my favorite meals.
I have to admit, I was getting a little irritated by it. "
"Irritated how?" Kate asked.
"Not angry or anything. Just... I'm twenty-eight years old, you know?
I can take care of myself. But every time I tried to do something for myself, she'd already done it.
Yesterday morning she was insisting on packing me some snacks to eat between job interviews like I was going to school.
" Jake's voice caught. "Now I’d do anything to have her back, hovering and fussing over me. "
The emotion in his voice seemed genuine, and Kate found herself believing his account.
A man planning to murder his mother for inheritance money would be unlikely to express irritation at her care, even in hindsight.
She'd thought it was a mistake to arrest him from the start, and this was only furthering her doubts.
"Let's talk about yesterday specifically," DeMarco said. "What time did you leave the house?"
"Around eleven or so. I had an 11:30 interview downtown, then lunch with a contact from my old company. After that, I had two more interviews. One way out in Brandermill. After that, I grabbed dinner with an old high school friend. Then I got home around 8:30… maybe a little after.” Jake straightened up slightly.
"You can check all of that. I have my phone, well, I guess the cops have my phone now. But you can call each of the places I interviewed for. I never returned to the house at any point during the day.”
“Did you call your mom to tell her about your dinner plans?”
“No. I didn’t need to. She already knew.”
"We'll definitely verify your timeline," Kate said. "Can you tell us about each appointment?"
Jake provided detailed information about his interviews, including the names of people he'd met with and the locations of each meeting.
His recall was precise and consistent, suggesting he was telling the truth about his activities.
He was able to even give them the names of each person he met with during the interviews and what their positions were within the companies.
"And then, when I did finally get home,” he continued, “I called out to Mom when I came in, but she didn't answer. I figured maybe she was taking a bath or had gone to bed early." His voice dropped to almost a whisper. "I found her lying on her bed, and I knew immediately something was wrong."
"What made you know something was wrong?" Kate asked.
"She was lying on top of the covers, fully dressed, like she'd just sat down and fallen backward. And she looked..." Jake struggled to find the words. "She looked peaceful, but wrong somehow. Does that make sense? I called 911 immediately."
Kate made notes while Jake described finding his mother's body. His account matched what she'd observed at the crime scene, and his distress seemed proportional to the trauma of discovering a deceased parent.
"Jake, we need to ask about the security system," DeMarco said. "It was disarmed when you found your mother. Do you know why?"
Jake looked confused for a moment, but the expression quickly turned to one of sadness.
"Yeah, actually. A few weeks ago, when I called to tell her about losing my job, she mentioned something about the security system not working right. She said he’d tried figuring it out on her own but had no luck.
She said she wasn’t tech-savvy enough. I told her to call a technician, but she said she wasn’t too worried about it.
Said she didn't see the big deal because her neighborhood was safe. "
Kate exchanged a glance with DeMarco. This was the first mention of security system problems predating Jake's return home. But it also seemed very convenient for Jake… if he was the killer.
"Did she say what wasn't working about it?" Kate asked.
"Not really. Just that it had been acting up… sort of freezing.”
This information potentially changed the timeline of when the security system had been compromised. If Carol had been having problems with it weeks before Jake's return, it suggested the killer might have had longer to plan and observe the house's routines.
"Had your mother been acting differently lately?" DeMarco asked. "Anything unusual in her behavior or routine?"
Jake considered this question carefully.
"Well, I guess she seemed happier since I moved back home, but also more anxious in some ways.
Like she was worried about me finding work, worried about being a burden to me financially.
" His eyes teared up at this, and he added, "I think she was just so happy to have someone back in the house.
I really don't think she quite recovered fully from Dad passing away. "
"Was she seeing anyone professionally about her anxiety?" Kate asked.
"Her therapist, Dr. Chen. Mom's been seeing her since Dad died. Actually, she was supposed to have an appointment tomorrow, I think. She mentioned it earlier this week. Some sort of doctor specializing in empty nest-types."
Kate made a note of the therapist's name. "How often did she see Dr. Chen?"
"Every couple of weeks, usually. Mom said it helped her process the grief and adjust to living alone." Jake's expression grew thoughtful. "She seemed to really trust Dr. Chen, said she was one of the few people who understood what it was like to lose a spouse."
"Did your mother ever mention being concerned about anything? Anyone bothering her or making her feel unsafe?"
Jake shook his head. "No, nothing like that. If anything, she seemed to feel safer with me back home. She kept saying how nice it was to have someone else in the house again."
Kate studied Jake's demeanor throughout their conversation. His answers were consistent, his emotion appeared genuine, and his cooperation was complete. He'd readily offered his phone records for verification and provided specific details that could be easily checked.
"Jake, is there anything else you think we should know? Anything unusual about yesterday or the past week or so that might be relevant?"
When he shook his head, the tears started to fall again, leaking from the corners of his eyes.
"Just that she was really happy," Jake said, his voice breaking again.
"She kept talking about how this was just temporary, that I'd find something good soon, and that she was grateful for the chance to take care of me again.
" He wiped his eyes. "She said it reminded her of when I was little and she could fix everything with a home-cooked meal and a fresh load of laundry. "
The image Jake painted of his mother was consistent with what Kate had observed at the house—a woman who found purpose and joy in nurturing her adult son during a difficult period. It seemed incompatible with someone planning murder for financial gain.
"We may have more questions later," Kate said. "But for now, thank you for being so cooperative. I know this is an incredibly difficult time."
"You believe me, don't you?" Jake asked, looking directly at Kate.
"I know how it looks. I really do. I mean, just over a week back home and then this happening. The timing and all…it really sucks. But I would never hurt my mother. You…you have to know that,” he pleaded.
“She was the most important person in my life. "
Kate met his gaze and saw desperation mixed with hope. "We're going to investigate thoroughly, Jake. That's all I can promise you right now."
“How much longer will I have to stay here?”
"It depends on how quickly we can prove you're innocent," DeMarco said. "We'll have someone look into those interviews from yesterday, and that should be enough."
As they prepared to leave the interview room, Jake called out one more time. "Please find out what really happened to her. She deserves justice…and peace.” Through a cracked and trembling voice, he added: “I need to know who did this."
Once they were outside the interview room, Kate and DeMarco walked in silence for several moments before Kate spoke.
"What's your read on him?" she asked.
"Either he's an exceptional actor, or he's telling the truth," DeMarco replied. "His grief seems genuine, and his story is internally consistent. The interviews…the names he was able to give. I mean, what guilty party can just deliver that sort of stuff so easily?”
Kate nodded. "I'm inclined to believe him, too. And if I were in charge of the local PD, I’d be having some serious meetings with whichever cops were in charge of his arrest.”
“Some of the cops were indicating is finances, I think,” DeMarco said. “But even then, that would have been circumstantial at best.”
“Well, regardless of that, it still means we need to look at this case from a completely different angle."
"Starting with Dr. Chen?"
"Starting with Dr. Chen," Kate agreed. "Maybe she’ll have some insights into what could have happened.
And we need to dig deeper into the security system issues.
If Carol was having problems with it weeks before Jake came home, someone else might have been planning this for much longer than we initially thought. "
As they left the police station, Kate found herself reconsidering everything she'd assumed about Carol Bennett's death.
Jake's account painted a picture of a loving reunion between mother and son, not a domestic situation that would lead to murder.
If Jake was indeed innocent, then whoever had killed her had been clever enough to make her son the obvious suspect.
The case was becoming more complex than Kate had anticipated, and she realized she might need to call Allen and warn him that this investigation could take longer than the quick consultation Director Duran had originally described.
It wasn't a conversation she wanted to have, but she could already feel this case growing larger and more convoluted by the second.