Page 29 of Lone Star Witness

He nodded, but the confirmation convinced absolutely no one, not even himself. “I need to tell you some things,” Rosa muttered.

“Things about what you witnessed?” Slade asked, leading the man to the sofa.

Slade debated if he should pour him a drink and opted against it since he had no idea if Rosa had been given meds in the hospital. Instead, he settled for getting him a glass of water.

“No, uh, I still don’t remember that. Don’t remember attacking Stephanie,” he added, scrubbing his hand over his face. Rosa then locked eyes with Slade when Slade took the chair across from him. “Is Stephanie in on this? Did she kill Carlyle Hutton? Did I kill him?”

“You know about his murder?” Marise said.

Rosa nodded. “It’s on the news. I figured I’d be suspect. Maybe Stephanie as well.”

“And Hutton’s wife, Annalisa,” Slade provided.

“Of course.” He sighed. “I knew Stephanie was having an affair with Hutton,” Rosa admitted a moment later. “And I was considering a divorce. Stephanie wouldn’t go for that though. It’s all about appearances for her, and she wouldn’t want to deal with the gossip of a divorce. Or an affair since that would have likely come out in a divorce.”

Slade considered all of that. It wasn’t exactly new information, but he had to wonder how Stephanie’s feelings about appearances could have played into what happened. To know that though, he needed to actually learn what had gone on that night.

“What do you remember about the last time you saw Hutton?” Marise asked.

“Not much. Not enough,” Rosa amended. “Everything is whirling around in my head, and I’m not sure what’s real and what’s imagined. For instance, I think I heard Stephanie arguing with someone. A man. Maybe Hutton. Maybe Julian.”

“Julian?” Slade repeated.

“Yes.” Rosa’s mouth twisted. “Julian’s all about appearance, too, and he wouldn’t have approved of Stephanie having an affair with… anyone other than him. I suspect he’s in love with my wife.”

Slade suspected the same thing. In love and willing to do whatever Stephanie wanted.

“Is it possible that Sonny is the man you heard arguing with Stephanie?” Slade pressed.

“No.” Rosa’s answer came a little too fast for Slade’s liking, and he didn’t care much for the look Rosa gave him. “No,” Rosa repeated.

“But Sonny came to your house,” Marise reminded him. “Did he meet with Stephanie?”

Again, Rosa replied, “No. Sonny met with me.”

“Why?” Slade blurted out. And that was just the start of what he wanted to know.

“Why indeed,” Rosa muttered, and then he locked gazes with Slade again. “Since I’ve retired, I’ve had some time on my hands, and I remembered reading the info in your background for your Top Secret clearance. I saw a report where one of your high school buddies was interviewed, and he mentioned Sonny. Mentioned, too, that maybe Sonny had murdered your mother.”

Everything inside Slade went still. “You met with Sonny to ask him about my mother’s murder?”

“Well, first I had to track him down. Again, lots of time on my hands. And I didn’t intend to actually contact him, but a friend of a friend of his I spoke with told Sonny that I was asking questions about him, and Sonny came to see me.”

“To threaten you,” Slade concluded.

Rosa nodded. “Among other things. To deny the allegation of murder. To insist it was an accident.” He paused. “And then he asked about you, about your involvement in Bodie’s death.”

“Hell,” Marise muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Rosa was quick to say. “I told Sonny you hadn’t had any involvement, but after he left, I realized I’d lit a very bad fire in him. I think that’s when he started planning to get back at you and your brothers.”

Slade took a moment, dealing with that. “So, Sonny doesn’t have anything to do with Stephanie or Hutton’s murder?”

Rosa started to speak, his mouth forming around the word, no, but then he seemed to change his mind. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”

Slade could see how that maybe could play out. Sonny could have run into Stephanie during that visit with Rosa, and Stephanie and/or Julian might have hired him either to kill Hutton or dispose of the body.

But that didn’t mesh with Hutton’s injuries.

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