Jared sat back in an armchair and directed a laser beam stare at Oliver. “It may be important to the investigation from your perspective, but the way I’m hearing things, it seems like you’re implicating my mom.”

Marge said, “No, that’s not what we’re doing.”

Jared slowly turned his eyes in her direction. “Then explain it to me, Sergeant.”

“I suppose I want to know if your mother was actively gambling. That could open up a lot of previously unconsidered avenues.”

“Like my father’s life insurance policy?” Jared snapped.

“I’d be lying if I said we’re not thinking about that,” Marge answered. “If your mother was gambling heavily, it would be a way to get hold of money. But I’m thinking more about some underworld figure going after your father because of your mother’s unpaid debts. If I may be blunt, the murder was execution style.”

Good cover, Dunn. Oliver chimed in. “Someone was trying to make a point. Like Sergeant Dunn said, sometimes kids hear things. Maybe you didn’t because, like you said, they argued quietly. But we have to ask, Jared.”

“It’s a fifteen-year-old case,” Marge said. “You were thirteen. You’re not expected to remember everything.”

“I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast,” Oliver said. “Anyway, if you want more neutral questions, can you remember anything about your dad that would have indicated he was worried or nervous about something?”

“My dad wasn’t the nervous type. He was a doer.”

“Yeah, that’s why it would stand out if he was nervous.”

“Well, he wasn’t…not that I remember. Dad could always figure out a pathway of action. And if it didn’t work, that was okay, too, as long as we learned from our mistakes.”

“So as far as you saw it, nothing unusual was going on at the time?”

“No, I already told you that.”

“Fine,” Marge said. “Anything else you’d like to add that would help us along?”

Jared was still on the previous topic. “Did you ask Nick these questions?”

Oliver said, “I asked him some things. In light of what your grandmother said, I’ll probably call him up again.”

Marge said, “Maybe he’d remember more than you. He was older.”

“Doubt it,” Jared said softly. “Nick had a way of zoning out when…” He looked away.

“When what?” Marge asked. “When your parents fought? It’s okay if they fought. It’s okay if your father yelled. My father was a big yeller. He screamed more than he talked.”

“My dad rarely raised his voice.”

“I like the emphasis on the word rarely,” Marge said. “So the couple of times he did raise his voice, I bet it made an impression on you.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

Oliver shrugged. “It’s certainly your prerogative not to talk.”

Silence.