“We believe investigating Jennifer Griffin’s family history,” Kozak said, “could lead us to identifying who was killed on the freeway, and possibly to Jennifer.”
“Of course.” Bayne’s smile was cold. “But nothing changes the overwhelming evidence that Jennifer Griffin was running from an abusive situation with an unfaithful spouse.”
“That case still has to be made to support a charge,” Carillo said.
“Maybe Erie County’s prosecution team lacks the confidence to proceed,” Bayne said.
“Proceed with what?” Carillo said.
“Detective Bayne,” Kozak said, catching Sergeant Renner shifting uncomfortably in his chair, “to debate your point would be an exercise in futility.”
“Would it?” Bayne said.
“That fact is,” Kozak continued, “the misidentification serves to underscore that we must pursue all investigative avenues so that nothing is missed.”
“Yes,” Renner said. “I think we can all agree on that.”
“Right,” Kozak agreed. “So we’ll tie up some loose ends here before we head back to Buffalo to resume work there.”
Renner collected his notes and folders, signaling the meeting’s end.
“I think we’ve covered everything for now, so we can all get back at it. Thank you, everyone.”
In the elevator to the lobby, some investigators made small talk about the Browns and Cavaliers. Kozak and Carillo said little, waiting until they were alone in their Taurus where Carillo took the wheel while Kozak scrolled through her messages.
“What did you do to that Marge Bayne?” Carillo smiled.
Kozak waved a dismissive hand, her eyes on her phone, reading a message from Chase, the younger of her two sons.
Aiden’s making me do his chores. When are you coming home?
I’ll talk to Aiden. I’ll be home in time for supper. We’ll get pizza. OK?
OK.
Love you, honey.
Love you, Mom.
Kozak then sent a message to Aiden.
Go easy on Chase. I’ll be home today.
He’s such a lazy baby.
Do it for me. Show me it was not a mistake to leave you two on your own. Can you do that, honey?
Sure. Can we get pizza tonight?
With wings?
Yes!
Relieved, Kozak looked away from her phone and took a long, slow breath, looking at Cleveland’s skyline.
Carillo had been following directions on the GPS to take them back to the area near the deadly, fiery freeway crash. He glanced at Kozak.
“You’re up for this?” he asked.
“Yup.”
“It’ll likely be nothing.”
“We have to try, Ned.”
He nodded as the Taurus accelerated onto the freeway, taking them closer to a potential lead in the case.
Sixty-Six
Cleveland, Ohio
The Sheltering Halo Community House was an abandoned brick school that had been slated for demolition. But it was rescued by a coalition of nonprofits and converted into the sanctuary it was today.
Walls along its entrance held Halo’s mission statement, its pledge to help those in need. Also posted were requirements for guests to report all communicable diseases. And there were rules, such as instant eviction for possession of weapons, disruptive behavior, and/or the use of contraband, including alcohol or illegal drugs.
The floor smelled of cleaner.
Sheltering Halo provided free recovery and rehabilitation programs for those with addictions. It also offered help finding employment, Colleen Golinka, the shelter’s director, explained while leading Kozak and Carillo to the dining hall, which had been the school’s cafeteria.
In coming here, the investigators had taken into account the revelation that Jennifer Griffin was not the person killed in the freeway tragedy. But, if the DNA identified the victim as her relative, then maybe the dead mystery woman bore a resemblance to Jennifer. And if the woman living nearby had seen a woman who looked like Jennifer, well, wasn’t that a potential lead?
A lot of “ifs,” but Kozak wanted to pursue it before they left Cleveland.
The dining room was empty, but for volunteers cleaning up. Golinka chose a table near the kitchen, where people were working amid the sounds of running water and the clatter of pans. The air held the aroma of fresh-baked bread.
“Would you like some coffee, Detectives?”
“No, thank you,” Kozak said.
“So, you’re from Buffalo. How can we help?” Golinka said.
Kozak showed her photos of Jennifer.
“It concerns this woman,” Kozak said.
Studying them, Golinka nodded.
“Oh, yes, the woman killed on the freeway not far from here, a terrible tragedy. I understand she was from Buffalo.”
“Well, yes, but there’s been a new development, which may not be widely known yet,” Kozak said. “Aside from that, we understand that she, or someone resembling her, might’ve stayed here?”
Golinka thought then slowly said, “No, I don’t think so. I recall that shortly after the accident, Cleveland police were here, asking about her.”
“And what came of their inquiries?” Carillo said.
“To my knowledge, nothing. We don’t think she was here. However, while we do operate like most shelters, in some ways, we don’t.”
“What do you mean?” Kozak asked.
“People come and go with us all the time. We respect their privacy and only record names and Social Security numbers if they wish to provide them. Some people, for a number of reasons, may not provide their information or true name.”
“We figured that,” Carillo said.
“And,” Golinka said, “we also help women and children in abusive relationships. So anonymity to protect them from a vindictive partner is a priority, as well.”
“We understand,” Kozak said. “Now, you say many guests come and go. Is it possible some, who may have resided with you around the time of the crash, may not have been interviewed by Cleveland police? Or they may, for their own reasons, have been reluctant to talk to them?”
“It’s possible. In some cases, our guests are acquainted with local law enforcement.”
“Would any of those people be with you now? Anyone we could talk to, given we’re from Buffalo and our interest is not related to local criminal history but to the mother missing from Buffalo and her family there?”