Pine said firmly, “So your son’s body lay outside all night long and was untouched by animals? Not one bite taken out of him, according to the police.”
Atkins put a trembling hand to her face. “Please, stop. Please.”
Len grunted. Pine glanced at him once more. He was staring fiercely at his wife.
Atkins looked at him, drew in a sharp breath, and said, “Okay, we went over there . . . and saw Joe’s body. We had to. He was our son. We had to make sure. We didn’t know if Desiree was lying or what. When we saw he was . . . dead . . . we . . . we couldn’t leave our son out . . . out there alone.” She teared up again. “It was horrible . . . Len had his shotgun and he kept watch and scared the critters away . . . but . . . but the flies . . . they were all over h-him.” She let out a gush of air and took some time to calm while Pine and Blum waited.
Atkins wiped her eyes with her sleeve and said, “I met Desiree at the old Esso station, and drove her to Atlanta while Len guarded Joe’s body. The next morning he was going to call 911 from a pay phone and tell them about Joe without identifying who he was.”
“Why wait until the next morning?” interjected Pine.
“Desiree wanted time to get away. But then early the next morning, before I got back from taking Desiree, Len heard someone coming and hid. A man was walking his dog. He found Joe’s body and ran off, obviously to call the police. I got there about ten minutes later and Len told me what had happened. We drove back together to the trailer. When the police showed up later we acted all surprised.”
Pine studied her. “Did you look at the body closely?”
“It was our son, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Blum interjected, “We know this is hard, Wanda. But we’re trying to find Mercy. Anything you can tell us about what you observed that night will help.”
Atkins wiped her eyes and said firmly, “There was a knife sticking in my son’s back, and he was dead, that’s what I saw.”
“Anything else?” asked Pine.
“I don’t know. I was so upset.” She paused. “He . . . he had a lump and some blood on his head. I remember that.”
“Did you see signs of a struggle?” asked Pine.
“No. But I’m not sure what I would be looking for.”
“What did Desiree say actually happened? As detailed as you can recall.”
“That Mercy got away somehow. And Joe tried to stop her. And she attacked him. And stabbed him. And then ran off.”
“Where’d she get the knife?”
“Desiree didn’t say.”
“There was a gunshot,” said Pine. “On the surveillance tape we heard a shot.”
“I don’t know anything about that. Desiree never mentioned a gunshot.”
“Did Desiree have a shotgun when you saw her at the Esso station?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you where she was going? Are you sure you haven’t been in contact with her over the years? Not once?”
“No. I don’t want to ever see that awful woman again,” Atkins snapped.
“And then you moved away?”
“Yes. We sold Joe’s house. With Desiree gone, we were next of kin. We used that money to buy this place. Joe also had money in some bank accounts from his business. All of that came to us, too,” she added, shooting them nervous glances.
“I see.”
Pine rose, took out a couple of her business cards, and handed them to Atkins. “You think of anything else, or if you hear from Desiree, please call me.”