She looked around the room. “You know what, why don’t we sit down? We’ll be more comfortable. And you tell me anything that comes to mind about your son. It sounds like he had a lot of friends. Was that the case?”
They settled on opposite sides of a walnut coffee table, on facing barn-red twill couches, the perfect conversational grouping in the living room. The Vanderwoods obviously entertained-the whole house was set with various nooks and spots for small gatherings to linger.
Mrs. Norwood wiped her eyes with a ragged tissue. ‘“Of course. Xander was very popular. Captain of the wrestling team, letterman, honor society. Smart, that was our boy. He was accepted early to Vanderbilt, that way he could stay at home his first year until Amanda graduated and joined him. Amanda is…oh, God, was, such a lovely girl. We were proud to have her as a part of our family. Even Xander’s sister seemed to like Amanda, and she’s not usually fond of her big brother’s friends.” As she spoke, her eyes started to shine, the recollection pulling her from her misery. Just as quickly, she collapsed back into tears. Mr. Norwood tried to take over, but his voice was shaking, too.
“Xander was a good boy. Reckless, sometimes, like any boy his age. Had a slew of speeding tickets. He was probably going to lose his license if he didn’t buckle down and go through that class you have to take. He loved to drive.”
“Does he have his own car?”
“Yes, a Volvo. We took one look at his driving skills and got him the safest car we could find. Amanda had a Jeep, and I was always worried about him driving it and tipping over.”
The Norwoods shared a private laugh. Taylor was struck by their composure. It was rare for parents to pull themselves together so quickly. The shell had tightened; the cool, calm, rational people were poking through. It was strange- some parents became hysterical and unable to talk, some would sit you down and relay every detail. She never knew what to expect, was happy the Norwoods fell into the latter category. She needed this information, needed to build a victimology on their son.
“Is that his Volvo parked in the driveway?”
“Yes, it is.”
She nodded at Lincoln, silently indicating that he needed to get Crime Scene on the car. He nodded back. Oh, it was good to have her team together again.
Taylor tried to figure out how to put the next question delicately. ‘Was it…typical for Xander and Amanda to have private time alone?”
Mrs. Norwood blew her nose, then said, “Are you asking if we knew they were having sex. Lieutenant?”
“Yes, ma’am:’ She sighed heavily. “Surely you remember what it was like being a teenager in love. We discouraged them, of course, but they were hell-bent. We talked to Xander extensively-he promised that they were being careful. I believe Amanda was taking birth control pills, but you’ll have to ask her mother about that. We’ve called her parents, but they’re overseas. It’s going to take them a day to get back home. Just terrible for them. At least we’re here, can be with Xander’s sister through this.”
“Where is your daughter?”
“Susan? She’s at home with our housekeeper. Aaron, we really should start getting back there for her.” They started the small shiftings that told Taylor their interview was at an end.
“Before you go, can you tell me anything else about Amanda?”
“Oh, Mandy was., .sunny. Beautiful. Smart. She was in honor society too, debate, student council, you name it. Her parents are from a very old Nashville family who wanted her to be as proletariat as possible. They were pushing her toward a life in public service. They could have sent her anywhere, but they both went to public school and wanted her to, as well. That’s how many of us feel around here. Really, she and Xander were the perfect couple.”
A perfect couple who’d been targeted by a madman. There was something wicked this way, Taylor was sure of it. No child is perfect, and if Taylor’s background could be any sort of guide, it was the ones who seemed rosy on the surface that hid the biggest secrets.
“Was there any drug or alcohol use that you know of?”
“Here we go,” Mr. Norwood muttered.
“I’m sorry, sir. I have to ask.”
“Nothing that was out of the ordinary. Xander was an eighteen-year-old boy. But he’s a straight arrow, had to be for the wrestling.”
Mrs. Norwood shook her head. “He’s been caught with beer a few times, but nothing more than that. We always grounded him. There were repercussions. But you know how it is. Sometimes it’s easier to let them do what they’re going to do in a place where you can keep your eye on them”.”
That was the trick. Serve your child the liquor at home so you could monitor them. Taylor’s family had always allowed alcohol at the table, but if she drank out with friends and got caught, she was grounded. Nothing out of the ordinary there, outside of a few laws or fifty broken.
Taylor nodded. This wasn’t her battle right now. “Okay. So school let out at noon today. Did you talk to Xander this afternoon?”
Mrs. Norwood’s face fell. “No, I’m afraid we didn’t. The last I saw him, he was walking out the door this morning, happy as a lark because it was Halloween. They had a party to go to tonight.”
That got Taylor’s attention. “Where was the party supposed to be?”
“At his friend Theo Howell’s. Evelyn and Harold are friends of ours. They’re actually traveling with Amanda’s parents now. But we know them well. We’ve always trusted Xander to be at their place without supervision.”
Taylor made a note. With any luck, the party was still going on, or at least had a gathering of kids who might have a better handle on the victims. She couldn’t push the thought from her mind that they might be a target too. She couldn’t take that chance, but she didn’t want to alarm the Norwoods.
“Do you have the address? I’d like to talk to Theo, if I could.”
“Certainly. I have Theo’s numbers too, home and cell. I’ll get them. They’re in my purse.” Mrs. Norwood straightened out of her chair and disappeared, returning a moment later with a handwritten note and more tissues. When she sat, Taylor noticed the woman looked gray. It was time to wrap it up for now. This family needed a chance to grieve, and Taylor was itching to get someone to the party, to get more information from the living. To protect them, if need be. She stood and shook their hands.
“Ma’am, sir, I’m going to leave you now. I need to get back to another scene. If you think of anything that might be relevant, please don’t hesitate to call.”
They seemed smaller, less consequential than when she had first walked in. It was always that way-reality set in and sapped their strength, their air, their very being.
Mr. Norwood looked at his wife, pale as a ghost, and said, “Are you sure we can’t see him?”
Taylor touched him on the shoulder, light and reassuring.
“I’m sure. It’s for the best, believe me. I think you and Mrs. Norwood need to go home to Susan now.”
Defeated, they struggled to their feet, arms wrapped around each other. Holding themselves together. “We’ll be at the house if you need anything.”
Taylor was terribly relieved. Sometimes families fought her harder on this, insisted on sticking at the crime scene, even going so far as to sneak into the scene for a last peek. It was never a £ood idea. At least at the medical examiner’s office, the visual identifications were done on a closed loop feed, so parents and loved ones wouldn’t be face-to-face with their dead. The little bit of distance sometimes helped.
Sometimes.
Lincoln escorted the Norwoods out the front door. The moment they were out of earshot, she called McKenzie, ordered him over to the Ho wells’ house with four patrols to stand guard. Protection for their case, and the innocent lives, all in one swoop.