Grissom, like a priest in black but without the collar, perched on the edge of a tan La-Z-Boy, as if afraid to sit lest the thing might swallow him whole. Grissom, it seemed to Brass, seemed uncomfortable with comfort. On the other hand, Grissom surely knew as well as Brass that this was not going to be a pleasant interview.
After clearing his throat, Brass asked, "So, Mrs. Blair, you don't believe that Mrs. Pierce would abandon her husband and daughter?"
"No, I don't." She looked at him curiously. "Do you?"
Brass smiled meaninglessly. "It's not important what I believe, ma'am. What's important is that we find Mrs. Pierce."
Mrs. Blair unfolded herself a little, revealed the tissue in her right hand, and dabbed at her eyes. "Lynn would never run off like that, and not tell anyone where she's going. That's just not her. Not at all."
"Help me get to know her, then."
"She's…" Mrs. Blair searched for the word.
"…sounds corny but…she's sweet." The woman glanced toward her husband, who took her hand in his. "We met a year or so ago, when she joined our church…then our women's Bible study group."
"You didn't know the Pierces before that?"
"No." She smiled-it was half melancholy, half nervous. "I think Lynn had a change of heart, a change of…spirit…direction."
"I see," Brass said, not seeing at all. Grissom was looking at the woman as if she were something on a lab slide.
"Before she met the Lord, Lynn had a different set of values, a different social circle…but since she joined our group, she and I became good friends-best friends."
"Would you say Lynn is reliable? Could she ever be…flighty?"
Mrs. Blair smiled at the absurdity of the thought. "Oh, Detective Brass, you can always count on Lynn. If she says she's going to do something, she does it."
"I see."
"That's why I was so surprised last night when she phoned to tell me she was on her way over-right over-and then never showed up."
"Tell us about that phone call," Brass said. "How did she sound?"
She glanced at her husband; they were holding hands like sweethearts. "I feel so bad about that…"
"Darling," Mr. Blair said, "it's all right."
His wife went on: "I've thought and thought about it since last night. I knew at the time she was upset, but I should have heard it then-she sounded distraught. Even terrified, but trying to…you know…hide it a little."
"You're sure about this?" Brass asked.
She shook her head, sighed. "I'm not sure about anything, anymore. I've replayed it so many times in my mind, I don't know if she really sounded distraught or if I'm putting my own feelings into it…. I won't lie to you, Detective Brass, I have…nervous problems. Sometimes I take medication."
Brass glanced at Grissom, but the criminalist's eyes were fixed upon the woman. The detective said, "Is that right?"
"Yes-Prozac."
Her husband added, "A small dosage."
"Well," she said. "Prozac or no Prozac…I think Lynn was distraught. Really and truly."
"Any idea what was troubling her?"
With a tiny edge of impatience, Arthur Blair said, "Maybe it was her husband threatening to cut her up in little pieces."
Brass nodded. "I don't mean to downplay the tape. But remember, some husbands and wives make those kind of idle threats all the time-"
"We don't," Mr. Blair said.
Brass continued: "And, at any rate, that was an argument from the day before. Did you get a sense of what specifically was troubling her the afternoon she called?"
Glumly, Mrs. Blair shook her head. "No. She didn't tell me what it was, exactly…and I'd have no way of guessing."
"Was she upset with her husband? I mean, this is a woman who went to the trouble of capturing her husband's verbal abuse on tape, after all."
"That was my assumption, but when I asked her, directly, if it was another argument with Owen, she kind of…dodged the issue."
Mr. Blair sat forward. "It must have been about Owen. Lynn calls Millie all the time when Owen becomes…uh…overbearing."
"That's happened a lot?"
"I don't know if it's fair to say 'a lot,'" Mrs. Blair said, thoughtfully. "She does call other times, though."
"Has she ever called upset about something other than her husband's abusive behavior?"
"Lori," Mr. Blair blurted, before his wife could answer. "Their daughter-she aggravates Lynn almost as much as Owen."
"That's true," Mrs. Blair admitted, shrugging one shoulder, raising one eyebrow. "Lori gave Lynn fits…although-and I don't like to brag-they seem to've had a lot less trouble with her, since Lori started dating our Gary."
Brass smiled. "Then Gary's a positive influence on the Pierce girl?"
Mr. Blair smiled and nodded. "He's a good boy-follows the Lord's teachings and studies hard in school."
Brass wondered what planet this was, but said, "That's great. You're very lucky."
"No question," Mr. Blair said. "Gary's helped settle Lori down. She was a little…wild, before."
"Wild?" asked Brass. "How so?"
Mr. Blair was searching for the words, so Mrs. Blair answered for him: "Impetuous, I would say. She made some mistakes with boys…drugs. It's an evil world out there, Detective Brass."
"I've noticed."
Mrs. Blair went on, in a pleased rush: "But between Gary's good influence, and Lynn's good parenting, they got her straightened out."
"Despite her father," Mr. Blair grumbled.
"Anyway," Mrs. Blair said, "I would say the girl's doing fine now. Better grades, active in church, doesn't try to dress like those…slatternly singers that are so popular now-like Lori used to."
"Even so," Brass said, "it would seem Lynn's had more than her share of stress in her life-would you agree?"
The Blairs exchanged searching looks.
Then, at the same time, Mr. Blair said, "Yes," as Mrs. Blair said, "No."
The two laughed in awkward embarrassment, and Brass waited for them to sort it out themselves, each saying, "You first," and "No, you." Finally, Mrs. Blair said, "Lynn has stress, but I'm not sure it's any more than anyone else, you know, in these troubled times."
Brass sat forward. "You mean to say, you don't consider her problems with her daughter, and her abusive husband, exceptional?"
Mrs. Blair shrugged with her eyebrows. "Well, I think the trouble with Lori, at least, is behind them."
"But what about with Owen?"
Mrs. Blair turned to her husband. Arthur Blair's lips peeled back and his eyes narrowed. The calm Christian removed his mask to reveal an angry human beneath. "Owen Pierce is a worthless, Godless son of a…" Blair's voice trailed off and his knuckles turned white on the arm of the sofa as he struggled to control his emotions. His wife slipped her arm around his shoulder, comfortingly.
Captain Jim Brass had spent enough time with the Blairs, and people like them, to know that for Arthur Blair to come as close as he had to calling that son of a bitch Pierce a son of a bitch indicated an unfathomable depth of anger toward Owen Pierce.
"I take it you listened to the tape?" Blair asked, his voice still edged with an unChristian viciousness.
"Yes, sir." Brass nodded toward Grissom. "We did."
Blair sighed heavily. "Then you know what that monster must be capable of, to threaten his wife with that." He shifted on the couch, sitting forward. "Understand something, Detective-I wouldn't have allowed Gary to get involved with Lori if I didn't think that Lynn was going to…divest herself of Owen, and soon."