Chapter 20 Jo
Chapter 20
Jo
If anyone looked the part of a dangerous man, it was Luther Yount. When they’d arrested him, he’d been laying out fresh bedding in his barn, and strands of straw, along with a few stray chicken feathers, were now snagged in his beard and his perpetually unkempt hair. He smelled like a barn as well, his baggy clothes ripe with the odors of cows and manure and freshly mowed hay. It wasn’t a terrible smell, Jo thought, but it had thoroughly permeated the small interview room where she and State Police Detective Robert Alfond sat, facing Yount across the table. She could tell by Alfond’s look of distaste that he was not as sanguine as Jo about barnyard odors. She had last interviewed Yount back in February, when she’d needed information on his neighbor, Maggie Bird. He had been defiant then, fiercely protective of Maggie, and unafraid to butt heads with the police.
He did not look so defiant today. This Luther was visibly shaken, his hands clasped tightly, his gaze fixed on the table, where a lone white chicken feather lay trembling in the current from the air-conditioning vent. She had not thought this man was capable of violence, but yesterday’s report from the crime lab, and his downcast demeanor, forced her to reconsider her opinion of Luther Yount.
“Tell us how the blood got into your truck, Mr. Yount,” said Alfond.
“I don’t know about any blood.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true. I don’t know. There has to be a mistake.”
“Not according to the crime lab.”
“Is this some kind of mind game? A way to get me to admit something I didn’t do?” Luther glared at Alfond. “It’s a technique with you people, isn’t it?”
“Why would you think that? Have you been in trouble with the police before?”
“I’m not an ignorant man. I know how this works.”
Alfond leaned back in his chair and gave Luther a cynical once-over. “No, you certainly aren’t an ignorant man. In fact, you appear to be quite brilliant. A full professor at MIT. Mechanical engineering, is that right?”
Luther’s answer was a sullen stare.
“You had a tenured position. A sabbatical every seven years. A nice office at the university. I can’t imagine why anyone would give up that job. I know I certainly wouldn’t.”
“You aren’t me.”
“So explain, Mr. Yount—or should I say Professor Yount—why you’re now living in Maine, shoveling cow shit?”
“Cows are likable animals.”
“Unlike people?”
“You said it.”
“What went wrong in Boston? Obviously, something did go wrong. Did you get yourself in some kind of trouble? Maybe got a little fresh with a coed or two?”
“We don’t call them ‘coeds’ anymore. It’s sexist.”
“Oh, excuse me. Let me rephrase. Did you get caught with some juicy female student?”
“Now you’re just making up crap. You people dragged me off my property, in full view of my granddaughter. I want to know why.”
“We told you why,” said Alfond. “The crime lab found blood on the passenger seat of your truck.”
“That’s no surprise. I have a farm. Sometimes we sell lamb or goat meat, and I haul it home from the slaughterhouse. That’s probably why there’s blood on the seat.”
“This particular blood is human. And it just happens to be the same blood type as Zoe Conover’s.”
Luther froze. He looked at Jo. “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”
“I’m afraid not,” Jo said. “The blood matches Zoe’s.”
“No.” Luther pushed away from the table. “That can’t be right. I told you, I dropped her off at the boat ramp!”
“Around noon, you said,” said Alfond.
“Yes.”
“And then what happened?”
“She walked away. She was perfectly fine.”
“I’m talking about you , Mr. Yount. What did you do next?”
Luther looked down at his hands, which were clenched even more tightly on the table. Those few seconds of silence caught Jo’s attention, and she leaned in. Just the fact he had to think before speaking was a red flag.
“I had errands to run,” he said. “I already told Chief Thibodeau about it.”
“Where were these errands?” said Alfond.
“Augusta.”
“And what did you do in Augusta?”
“I checked out some tractor parts. Picked up fresh straw, for animal bedding.”
“You drive all the way to Augusta for that? It’s an hour-and-a-half drive.”
“I know the store.”
“And then?”
“I got home that evening around seven, seven thirty. My granddaughter can tell you what time exactly. We made pork chops for dinner. Mashed potatoes, applesauce—”
“I don’t care what you had for dinner. I want to know what you did with Zoe Conover.”
“I dropped her off at the boat ramp.”
“Or did you take her elsewhere? Maybe took her on a drive out of town?”
“I went to Augusta.”
“Found a convenient turnoff to some quiet spot in the woods, someplace you wouldn’t be seen or heard? A lot of spots like that around here. A lot of places to take advantage of a girl. She was only a hundred and five pounds. Wouldn’t take much of a struggle to make her do what you want.”
“For God’s sake, I have a granddaughter! You think I’d hurt a girl, any girl?”
“Maybe we should check on the welfare of your granddaughter. Callie, isn’t that her name? Fourteen years old?”
To Jo’s shock, Luther suddenly lunged across the table at Alfond. “Don’t you fucking go near my—”
“ Luther! ” Jo yelled.
The two men glared at each other; then Luther sank back into his chair, his face florid, his hands shaking. He’d already looked like a wild man when they started this interview, and now he looked truly deranged. She still did not believe Luther capable of hurting the girl, but Alfond had just witnessed Luther’s violent reaction to some well-honed provocation. Then again, Alfond could provoke a reaction from anyone. Just being in the same room with this man set Jo’s teeth on edge.
“Again,” said Alfond, “where did you take Zoe?”
“The pond. I dropped her off at Maiden Pond, and then I went to Augusta.”
“Ah yes, to check out tractor parts. Do you have any sales receipts?”
“Didn’t buy anything.”
“What about that straw bedding you said you picked up?”
“Paid cash. No receipt.”
“Would anyone remember you?”
A beat. “Probably not.”
“You’re a pretty memorable man, Mr. Yount. Big fellow like you. Surely someone can confirm you went to Augusta.”
Luther dropped his head and focused on the table. This was not looking good. The man whom Jo considered harmless, who’d never caused even a whisper of trouble in Purity, now looked more and more deceptive. He could not explain Zoe’s blood in his truck. Nor could he confirm his whereabouts after he dropped her off.
“It looks like you’re going to be staying here for a while, Mr. Yount,” said Alfond. “Maybe a lot longer than just a while.”
“My granddaughter’s at home. I can’t leave her alone.”
“It’s beginning to sound like she’d be safer without you around.”
“I need to talk to her. Explain.”
“The person you really need to talk to is your lawyer.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Then maybe it’s time you got one. And think about how much easier this would be for you, and for Zoe Conover’s family, if you just came right out and told the truth.”
There was a knock on the door. Jo’s officer, Mike Batchelder, stuck his head into the room. “Jo? Maggie Bird’s here. She insists on talking to you.”
“We’re still interviewing Mr. Yount,” said Jo.
“No, we’re all done here,” Alfond said, and rose to his feet. He gave Jo a satisfied nod. “We just have to wait until Mr. Yount’s ready to tell us the truth.”