Black Orchid Girls (Detective Amanda Steele)

TWENTY

Amanda and Trent grabbed a coffee and a muffin from a place in Woodbridge on the way to the Hogan residence. They’d also pulled the backgrounds on Ron and Judy Hogan. They found nothing interesting but did get an advanced look at their faces from their driver’s licenses. The door was opened by Judy on the second knock.

“Yes?” Judy raised her eyebrows in perfectly matching arches. There was a hint of irritation in her tone, but also marked curiosity.

They held up their badges, and Amanda did the introductions and confirmed the woman was Judy Hogan, for the record. Then she said, “We’d like to speak with you about your son, Luke. If we could come in for a minute…”

Judy studied them. “Ah, sure.” She backed up to allow them room to enter.

The house was spacious inside, just as the exterior had suggested. It was a brick, two-story home in an affluent neighborhood. Obviously the Hogans were doing all right for themselves given their zip code and the decked-out, current model Audi A6 in the driveway.

Judy led them to a well-appointed living room with furniture that appeared almost too proper and elegant to sit on. The space was flooded with natural light due to floor-to-ceiling windows that took up an entire wall. She lowered herself into a wingback chair, and Amanda and Trent sat on the couch. Judy crossed her legs. “What is this concerning my son?”

Two cops at her door, and Judy hadn’t immediately jumped to a horrible conclusion that most mothers would. Like Melissa Somner, it didn’t seem to occur to her that something may have happened to her child. Or was it denial, self-protection’s armor? “A student from Geoffrey Michaels, the Potomac Center for Science and Environmental Studies, was found murdered yesterday morning.” Amanda paused there, watching for any tells of recognition. There were none. Instead, Judy’s mouth gaped slightly open, and her eyes watered.

“How horribly sad.”

“Her name was Chloe Somner, and she was in some of your son’s classes.”

“Oh.” Judy toyed with the buttons on her cardigan. “He must be upset. I know what it’s like to lose a fellow student. I did when I was in college.”

“It can be devastating, for sure. It often doesn’t even matter if you were close to the person who died.” Amanda could testify to that from experience too. High school. Wesley Ferguson. He’d hung himself.

“Yes, you’re right about that. I wasn’t close with Karen, but it still affected me. I should really call my son.” Judy made a move to get up, but Amanda raised a hand.

“We’d ask that you refrain for the moment.”

“Do you… do you suspect my son had something to do with this girl’s death?”

“We just need to ask some questions, Ms. Hogan.” Amanda would skirt around Judy’s direct assumption for the time being. “Has your son ever mentioned Chloe to you?”

“Chloe, Chloe,” she repeated as she tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. Eventually, she shook her head. “I can’t say that he has.”

Amanda nodded. “Where was your son yesterday morning between three and seven?”

“Do you seriously suspect he killed her?” Her complexion paled, and her voice cracked.

“Just procedure, ma’am,” Trent said. “Please answer Detective Steele’s question.”

Judy gripped her sweater, bunching the material and twisting slightly. “He was here—in bed.”

“You’re sure?” Her body language and articulation said otherwise.

“Of course. Where else would he be at that time of day?”

Amanda gave Judy a tight smile. “That is the timeframe in which Chloe Somner was tracked and murdered in Leesylvania State Park.”

“My boy, even if he wasn’t home—and I’m not saying he wasn’t—wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“But your son does have a temper, doesn’t he, Ms. Hogan?” Amanda countered.

“What young man doesn’t?” Judy flailed her hands in the air. “I’ll get him a lawyer if you’re going to come after him.”

Amanda appreciated that parents wanted to believe the best of their children, and she also understood defending them—to an extent. But the parents who coddled their kids and refused to acknowledge they could do wrong only damaged their offspring. Those kids became adults who acted as they wished because there were no consequences. “We’re just asking some questions at this time.”

“Sure, but you suspect my son.”

Amanda bit her tongue to avoid saying Luke looked like a prime suspect. “We’ve spoken with Luke, and he knew Chloe. She was in some of his classes, as I said, and more than that, he had a crush on her. His feelings were not returned. Not saying that he did something about that,” she rushed to add as she watched Judy shift in her chair and the woman’s cheeks grow a bright shade of red. “But he never mentioned her?”

“No.” Curt, and she tilted out her chin with the reply.

“Okay.” Amanda stood, pulled her card, and gave it to Judy. “If you have any reason to reach me, please don’t hesitate.”

Judy took the card tentatively, as if it could bite or burn her. She got up to see them out. Amanda stopped in the entry next to a table with a floral bouquet in a vase. The smells emanating from the variety was intoxicating. No sign of black orchids, however. And none anywhere in the parts of the house that they’d seen.

Amanda gestured to the flowers. “Beautiful arrangement.”

“Thank you.” Judy stiffened and crossed her arms.

Amanda lightly brushed her fingers beneath the petals of an orange Gerbera daisy. “I’m horrible with remembering the symbolism of different things. What do these mean? Do you know?” Luke had told them he was aware of the black orchid’s meaning due to his mother’s interest in symbolism. Amanda wanted to test that claim.

Judy’s posture relaxed, and she stepped next to Amanda. “The very base meaning is happiness. But also beauty, purity, and innocence.” She wasn’t looking at Amanda when she spoke but rather had her gaze on the flower.

“How lovely,” Amanda said. “What about black orchids?”

The woman pulled her attention from the bouquet. “That flower holds dual meaning—good and bad, light and dark. Why the interest?”

“No reason.” Amanda then turned for the door, leaving behind a confused Judy Hogan.

Once in the car, Amanda turned to Trent. “We’ve got nothing solid to go after Luke at this point, but I’m not ruling him out. There isn’t even a verifiable alibi.”

“He wasn’t lying about his mother knowing the meaning of things. I noticed the pop quiz in there.” Trent smirked.

Amanda chuckled. “Stellar detective work.” Sarcasm. Thinly veiled. “I do have a question for my brother, though.” She dialed his number. “Ky, do you remember the video I showed you?”

“It was just yesterday, so yeah.”

She smiled at her brother’s attitude. “Remember the headlights? Could they have belonged to a Honda Insight?”

There were a few seconds of silence on his end.

“Kyle?” she prompted.

“Just thinking.”

“Hence the smell of smoke.”

“Funny, sis. A Honda Insight? No, it wouldn’t have the right headlights.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”