Chapter 11
Iput a heavy fist against the door and shouted, “Coconut County. Open up!”
It was late and something you never wanted to hear at your door in the middle of the night.
A voice crackled through the speaker in the video doorbell. "Can I help you?"
"Mr. Peterson?" I said, then made introductions. "We need to have a word with you.”
"What's this regarding?"
"I’d rather give you the news face-to-face.”
"Are my kids okay?”
"Yes, they're fine."
After a pause, he said, "I'll be there in a minute.”
JD and I waited in the hallway.
Footsteps shuffled down the foyer. The deadbolt unlatched, and Mr. Peterson pulled open the door with concerned eyes.
He was late 40s with salt-and-pepper hair, piercing blue eyes, and a ruggedly handsome face.
His sharp jaw was lined with a day's worth of stubble, and he sported a trimmed goatee.
The hints of grey made him look distinguished.
Grant answered the door wearing a T-shirt and boxers.
It looked like we had woken him up. "What's going on?”
"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your ex-wife has died."
His brow lifted, and his eyes widened. "Died?”
"She was murdered earlier this evening.”
"Oh my God! You said my kids are okay, though, right?”
I nodded.
Peterson breathed a sigh of relief. He took a moment to compose himself. "What happened?”
"We're not exactly sure at this point in time. I can't release any details, you understand.”
He nodded.
I surveyed him carefully. A fresh wound on his left index finger bled through a Band-Aid. I pointed at it. "Did you hurt yourself?”
He looked confused for a moment, then realized what I was talking about. He looked at his finger for a moment. "Oh, that's nothing. I cut it earlier.”
"How did you do that?”
"I'm not really sure.”
I shared a subtle glance with JD.
Peterson had a pair of red raised scratch marks on the left side of his jaw. Not deep. Not bleeding, just a little red.
"What happened to your face?” I said, pointing.
He touched his jawline, then grinned. "Sometimes my girlfriend gets a little carried away. She's got long fingernails.”
"Can you tell me where you were this evening between 9:00 and 11:00 PM?”
"I was here in the apartment. Why?"
"Standard question.”
"Sure.”
"Can anyone verify that?”
"My girlfriend. Do you want to talk to her?”
"Is she here?"
Peterson nodded.
"Yes, I'd like to speak to her, but I have a few more questions for you first.”
"You think I'm some kind of suspect, don't you?"
"Like I said, it's standard for us to interview spouses after an incident like this. It's my understanding you just went through a contentious divorce.”
He laughed. "Contentious might be kind. It was fucking horrible. Still is. I guess, was now."
"Seems like things might have worked out for you in a strange way," I said.
His brow wrinkled with annoyance. "Excuse me?"
"Well, it was my understanding you are, or were, in a bitter custody battle. Looks like you’ll be getting the kids full-time now."
He took a deep breath. "I guess you're right. I hadn’t really thought about that. I'm still in a daze, as you can imagine.”
“When was the last time you saw your wife?” I asked.
“I try to see my ex-wife as little as possible.”
“Do you remember a specific date?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a couple days, at least. I don’t want to get any more specific than that without checking my calendar. Wouldn’t want you people to think I was lying if I get a detail wrong.”
“So, you didn’t stop by the house tonight?”
“No. I try not to go over there unannounced. The last time I did, she was banging the pool boy on the couch.”
I lifted a curious brow. “Really?”
“She was banging everybody. I think she was doing it just to get under my skin. She knew it would get back to me.”
“Did it?”
“Get back to me? Hell yes. My friend lives right across the canal. He can see everything that happens over there.”
“Did it get under your skin?”
“It got under my skin when we were married. Now, I don’t give a shit.”
“Who’s your friend that lives across the canal?”
“Trent Carter. Why?”
“It’s possible he may have seen something tonight.”
Momentary concern flashed on his face. “You should talk to him.”
“We intend to," I said. "I'll need to get his contact information.”
"Sure," he stammered.
"How did you say you cut your finger again?"
Grant looked at it. "I don't know. I think maybe I cut it with an X-Acto knife."
"What were you doing?"
"I don't really remember. Opening a product or something.
I couldn't find any scissors, and you know how they make packages these days, you can't get into the damn things.
I think they do it on purpose. They don't want you taking anything back.
You have to destroy the packaging just to get into it. "
He had a point.
"What were you trying to get open?"
His brow wrinkled again. "Look, what's with the ridiculous questions? I told you, I was here all night. My girlfriend can verify that. I didn't kill my ex-wife. Although, I had plenty of reasons. I think I’d be justified if I did."
That probably wasn’t the best thing to say to law enforcement during a murder investigation.
"Can you think of anybody else who may have wanted your wife dead?"
Grant chuckled. "Can I! Look, Hannah had a gift for ruffling people's feathers. She could get under just about anyone’s skin, and she liked doing it. And in that circle of degenerates she ran around with, it could be anybody.”
"What circle?”
His face twisted with annoyance. "Scout and that crew. That woman is 36 and acting like she’s 16. You’d think having a kid would settle her down, but it just made her worse.”
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, she brings a bad element around. Drugs, alcohol, guys. Who knows where some of these people come from? I tell you, it was pissing me off. There were people around the house that I didn't want around my kids.”
"Was your wife doing drugs?”
"Ex-wife. And I don't know what she was doing. If I could prove it, I could certainly get the kids taken away from her. But that's not an issue now. Where are they?”
"They’re with Carolyn right now.”
A look of disdain curled his lips.
“The Department of Children and Families will handle the case. I assume you'll be given full custody. But I don't know the specifics of your situation.”
"Well, Carolyn’s got another thing coming if she thinks she's going to take my kids.” Anger flared his face and bulged the veins in his temples.
"Are you familiar with a woman named Sutton Duvall?”
Grant’s face tightened. "I know Sutton.”
"Do you think she's capable of something like this?"
"I think anybody is capable of anything, given the right situation and motivation.” Peterson thought about it for a moment.
"After what happened last year, I'm sure Sutton had plenty of reasons, though it seems like a little bit of a stretch. Still, with the way those women are about these stupid competitions, you never know. People have been killed over less.”
That much was true. I'd seen people kill someone over $0.50. In certain neighborhoods, you’d get shot for looking at somebody the wrong way.
"Is there anybody else you can think of?”
Grant took a deep breath, then exhaled. "There is one person you should look into.”
JD and I waited for him to continue.