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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SEDONA, ARIZONA

SUNDAY, MARCH 19, 2023

2:00 P.M.

Ali and B. took it easy on Sunday morning, starting with a leisurely breakfast. After that, while B. headed to the office to go over whatever he had missed while out of town, Ali devoted herself to finalizing the security arrangements for Cami’s upcoming trip. Her first choice had been for Cami to cancel completely, but considering one of Sonja Bjornson’s agents would be looking out for her, Ali felt they had come up with an acceptable alternative.

Ali was considering going out for a walk when a voice message came in from Frigg, starting with her customary greeting.

“Good afternoon, Ali. I hope you’re having a pleasant day.”

“I am,” Ali replied.

“Would now be a convenient time to update you on the situation in Washington?”

Ali had told B. that she’d stay away from whatever was going on with Clarice, but with B. in Cottonwood, what could it hurt to hear what Frigg had to say?

“Now’s fine,” Ali said aloud. “What have you got?”

“The first document I’ll be sending is the video of a formal interview with Donna Jean Plummer.”

“Donna Jean,” Ali repeated. “The housekeeper? Is she now considered to be an official suspect?”

“Possibly, but this interview isn’t related to Chuck Brewster. It’s from a previous homicide investigation.”

“Another homicide?” Ali asked faintly. “Whose?”

“The 1992 shooting death of one Kenneth Leroy Plummer, Donna Jean’s estranged husband. The homicide occurred in Seattle, so the investigating agency was the Seattle Police Department. Homicide detectives Paul Kramer and Rich Little were assigned to the case.”

The quality of the black-and-white video was so grainy she could barely make out the faces, and the audio wasn’t much better.

“This is an old VHS recording,” Ali objected. “How did you even gain access to it?”

“Sorry about the quality of the video,” Frigg apologized. “Someone from Seattle PD copied the VHS tape onto a CD and sent it along to the detectives investigating the Brewster homicide. They uploaded it to a DVR file containing the other interviews related to the Brewster homicide.”

Once again Frigg was up to her old tricks of gaining unauthorized access to details of ongoing investigations, but for once Ali voiced no objection.

“All right,” she said. “Let’s take a look.”

The investigator in charge, a Detective Paul Kramer, opened the interview by announcing the time and date—1:30 p.m., June 8, 1992—as well as who all was present in the room—another Seattle PD cop named Rich Little and the suspect, Donna Jean Plummer, who appeared to be in her twenties. The tape began with Kramer reading the Miranda warning.

“Given all that, are you still willing to speak to us?”

Donna Jean nodded. “I just want to get this over with.”

“Then tell us about yesterday.”

“I shot him,” she said simply. “He said he was going to kill me, so I shot him.”

“By him, you mean your husband, Kenneth Leroy Plummer?”

“My estranged husband,” she corrected, “but yes.”

“What led up to this?”

“He hit my daughter. He hit Amy. Earlier in the afternoon, I needed a few things from the store. I don’t usually leave her with Kenny, because I don’t—I didn’t—trust him to look after her. Turns out I was right. When I came home, she was crying like crazy and had a huge red handprint on her face. He told me she spilled his beer. That’s why he hit her.”

“What happened then?”

“I grabbed Amy and we left. I went to my folks’ place. I told them about his hitting Amy, but I also told them about the rest of it—that he’d been beating on me the whole time we’d been married. They said I needed to file for a protection order and get a divorce. I knew they were right, but I decided to go home and grab some of our stuff. All Amy and I had with us were the clothes we were wearing. Mom begged me not to go, but I didn’t listen. Daddy walked me out to the car, and that’s when he gave me the gun—for protection.”

“Is your father licensed to carry a weapon?”

“My f-father?” Donna Jean stammered. “Is he going to get in trouble for this, too?”

“Does he have a license to carry a firearm?” Kramer repeated.

“I don’t know. I doubt it. He’s had the gun for a long time—for as long as I can remember. I think his father gave it to him when he turned sixteen.”

“What did you do with the weapon when he gave it to you?”

“I put it in my purse.”

“So you concealed it?”

“I needed to put it somewhere. It was too big to fit in my pocket.”

“What happened then?”

“I went home and started packing.”

“Was Kenneth there?”

“No, but he came back as I was getting ready to leave. When he found out the door was locked and he couldn’t get in, he went nuts.”

“It was locked from the inside?”

Donna Jean nodded. “A dead bolt with a key, but he pounded on the door so hard that it made the whole house shake.”

“Did you ever think about picking up the phone and dialing 911?”

“I was too scared. That’s when he said he was going to go to his truck, get his sledgehammer, and break the door down. I looked out through the peephole and saw he was headed for his truck. That’s where he keeps—he kept—all his tools. That’s when I unlocked the door and opened it. Then I got the gun out of my purse and pulled the trigger. When I saw him fall, I couldn’t believe I’d hit him. I’d never fired a gun before, but I hit him the first time out.”

“What did you do then?”

“I called 911.”

“Too bad you didn’t do that before you shot him,” Kramer said. “Ms. Plummer, we’re now placing you under arrest for the murder of your husband.” With that he concluded the interview.

“That detective’s a jackass,” Ali muttered under her breath.

“I’m assuming you’re not referring to the four-legged kind,” Frigg observed.

Ali laughed in spite of herself. “Definitely not,” she agreed. “Had any previous domestic violence reports been made against Kenneth Plummer prior to the shooting?”

“Not that I can find,” Frigg answered. “He did, however, have several DUI citations and one drunk and disorderly. That’s about it.”

That came as no surprise. Frigg was nothing if not thorough. Had there been a history of domestic violence reports, Donna Jean’s use of a deadly weapon might have been more defensible. But since the investigators in the Brewster case had called this previous one into consideration, Ali had an idea that the case hadn’t ended well.

“Before her husband was shot, did Donna Jean herself have any prior interactions with law enforcement?”

“None that I could find.”

If Frigg couldn’t find them, they didn’t exist.

“How old was Donna Jean at the time of her arrest?”

“Twenty-three.”

“And her daughter was how old?”

“Five.”

“If Donna Jean was that young with no priors, no wonder she didn’t know to ask for a lawyer before being questioned,” Ali said. What happened next?”

“I believe it’s safe to say that the prosecutor in this case was also what you would refer to as a jackass. He charged Donna Jean Plummer with first-degree murder. Eventually she went to trial and agreed to testify in her own defense. Would you care to see that portion of the trial transcript?”

“Not really,” Ali replied somberly, “but I think I’d better.”