Page 23 of Nowhere to Hide
The microwave beeped, and Mary saw to the tea. She dumped the bags into the garbage. “Milk or sugar?”
“One of each, please.” Same way she took her coffee.
Mary grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge and a spoon for stirring. Then she set out the cups on the table next to a sugar bowl. “Please, help yourself.”
“Ah, you said that Teresa was in quite a state after her sister’s death. In what way?” Cindy couldn’t let it go, and she’d ask any question that came to her with little censoring. That wasn’t to say she didn’t think them through. It was a favorable trait that made her excellent detective material.At least in her mind.Ideally someone in command at the MPD would see that in her value sooner than later.
“Teresa took to the bottle. She became so good at drinking, she turned herself into a high-functioning alcoholic. That’s the only reason she could keep Ryan. She was able to deceive the social workers. That’s not to say that Ryan wasn’t safe and provided for, but the home environment wasn’t always the best suited to a young boy.” Mary now seemed to be speaking to her tea, as she never met Cindy’s eyes once as she spoke.
“Did Teresa ever get sober?”
“She did, then she’d slip. The cycle would repeat. I’d like to say she kicked the disease in the last few years before her death.”
Cindy’s uncle battled with alcoholism. It certainly wasn’t anything a person chose for themselves. Nor was it the result of any inherent weakness. Alcohol addiction was a byproduct of an addictive personality, and as she’d learned, once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. She’d seen him struggle for years unsuccessfully before cirrhosis of the liver took him at forty-nine. Far too young to leave this world. “That’s good news.”
“It was, but too little too late, it would seem. She died from heart disease. Doctors commented that while her heart was healing from the damage done from the drinking, scar tissue remained.”
Cindy wrote this down, finding herself without words. “How well do you know Ryan?”
“Well enough. I watched him grow up. Bought him presents at Christmas and for his birthday. When Teresa lost herself to the bottle, I’d go over and step up, make them meals, get his lunches packed and him ready and off for school.”
“Everyone needs a friend like you.”
Mary’s lips twitched as if she were going to smile, but the expression didn’t birth. She took a sip of her tea. This reminded Cindy she hadn’t made hers up yet. She did so now whileher mind worked over what she’d learned so far. There were probably only so many questions she had left before Mary would want a reason for her interest in Susan and her son. Especially after Cindy had used Teresa to get in the door. “Do you know anything about Ryan’s father?”
“Just that he was never, what you say, in the picture from what I understand. Damn shame too. A boy needs his father. But Teresa was talking a lot in the days before she died. A person talks a lot when they think they’re nearing the end.”
If Cindy inched forward anymore, she’d fall off the chair. Now this conversation was getting somewhere. Coleman had mentioned part of what they were curious about was this very thing. “Like a deathbed confessional?”
“I guess you could say that. Something similar anyhow. Near the end, Teresa was reliving the last moments with her sister. I don’t remember that time very well, but it was clearly fresh in Teresa’s mind.” Mary stopped talking and stared into her tea.
“Ms.— Mary, what was fresh in her mind?” Tingles ran through her body, anticipating where this was headed. Would Mary’s next words provide some clarity on why Teresa had such a hard time after her sister’s death? Would it aid the negotiations?
“This was really the only time Teresa mentioned Ryan’s father to me.”
Cindy sat up straighter. “What was his name?”
Mary shook her head. “I only know he was a wealthy man. From the way Teresa talked about him she thought he was dangerous.”
Cindy sipped some tea, trying to tamp down the rush of adrenaline. The last thing she needed to do was get excited and scare this woman into silence. Timothy Hanson was as wealthy as they came. Was he also dangerous? He was married thirty-three years ago. Did he have an affair with Ryan’s mother andget her pregnant? Even so, what had Teresa talking about a wealthy man at the end of her life? Did she blame this man for her sister’s accident? “Dangerous how?”
“That’s the thing, she wasn’t clear about that. She bemoaned the fact he wouldn’t give Susan a few bucks to tide her through. I got the impression Susan went looking for financial help from the dad not long before her death.”
If this man was Timothy, had he felt threatened by this request? Had he seen it as blackmail? Cindy scribbled furiously in her book.
“Officer, it hasn’t escaped my notice that you said you wanted to talk about Teresa, but you seem more interested in her sister and her nephew. Is there something I should know?” Mary sat back, a white-knuckle grip on the handle of her mug.
Coleman had cleared her to divulge basic amounts of information. She feared crossing that line and letting him down. “There is an open investigation. That’s all I can say.”
“Into Susan’s accident?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, ma’am. May I ask, though, did you ever hear Teresa mention Timothy Hanson in any capacity?”Maybe that is crossing a line…She shoved the concern aside, not wanting to start second-guessing herself.You go down that path, you’ll lose your sanity right quick.That was something her training officer had told her. Besides taking the initiative wasn’t always a bad thing. In her experience, it often paid off.
“Hanson? As in one of the richest people in DC? He passed last week.”
“The very same.”
Mary gripped her mug with two hands. “Why would Teresa talk to me about him?”
