“This message is for Detective Serrano of the Ashby PD. It’s regarding the body found at the Albertson Bridge last night. He needs to know this was not a suicide. I know the victim’s identity has not been released to the press, but it was Constance Wright. Constance Wright was murdered. And I can prove it. Keep listening and I’ll explain. Please forward this entire recording to Detective Serrano.”
Serrano listened to the rest of the message, his eyes growing wider with each word spoken. When the recording was over, Wanda Bremmer came back on the line.
“Detective? Still there?”
“Still here.” Serrano’s hands were trembling.
“You all right, John?” Tally said.
“Do you have a digital file of this call you can forward to my cell?” Serrano asked Bremmer. “Send it to this number.”
He gave Bremmer his cell number. “Sending now,” she said.
When Serrano received the file, he turned to Hector Moreno.
“You both need to hear this. Hector, I need to know if what this caller says is accurate from a medical standpoint.”
Serrano pressed play and put the phone on speaker. The three of them listened in silence. Finally, Moreno said, “I’ll need to confirm the calculations, but if they hold up, the caller is right. There’s no way Constance Wright could have committed suicide.”
CHAPTER 6
“My ex-wife is a raging bitch.”
So that’s how this evening is going to go, Rachel thought.
The man sitting across the table from her was named Adam . . . something. She didn’t remember his last name. Had he even given it to her? A coworker had asked if he could set Rachel up with a buddy, and against her better judgment she’d agreed. And so far the evening had been only slightly less painful than a root canal without anesthesia.
Adam was in his late forties, divorced, with three kids in high school and an ex who lived across the city in the Edgartown district with her new husband. His hair plugs were poorly done, resembling doll hair more than human, and the bloodshot eyes and the spider veins crossing his nose indicated a serious drinking problem. His lower lip seemed to be perpetually curled downward in an irritated manner, as though he’d just tasted unexpectedly cold soup.
Her coworker would need to atone for this setup sin.
For months, Rachel’s friends had been pressuring her to “get back out there,” as though she were a ballplayer nursing an injury. Yes, she was lonely. Eric and Megan were her life, but she’d be lying if she said there weren’t nights she missed having a warm body to curl up next to, someone to watch movies with, to talk to about issues not related to state capitals and bedazzled toilet unicorns. Someone to touch her in a way that she missed desperately.
But seven words in, and Adam had already proven he wasn’t going to be that guy.
So what now? They hadn’t even ordered food yet. Rachel had booked the babysitter for another two hours. If she walked through her front door an hour and a half early from a date, she’d feel like the saddest person alive.
She’d grin and bear it, she decided. Not because there was a chance Adam might salvage the date but because the restaurant had a fantastic wine list and the best rack of lamb in Ashby, and damned if she was going to deprive herself of a good meal. She could tune him out and just enjoy dinner.
“Did you hear what I said?” Adam asked.
“Mm-hmm,” Rachel responded. “This wine is delicious.”
“You have great taste in wine. And you must have great taste in men, considering you’re out with me.” Rachel took a large gulp of her Bordeaux and offered a fake smile.
“Do you have any plans after this?” Adam said. He was beginning to slur his words. He must have pregamed before the date.
“Plans? Well, let’s see, I have two children at home, a teenage babysitter, and three baskets of laundry that won’t do themselves. So, no. Clubbing is not on my itinerary for the evening.”
“But let’s say you got home a little late. Your sitter wouldn’t mind, right? You could throw her an extra few bucks.”
“Define a little late.”
“Say . . . tomorrow morning late?”
Adam snorted and laughed. Then he reached across the table and put his hand on hers. She immediately computed the force needed to pierce his metacarpal bone with her dinner fork.
Instead, she removed her hand from the table and placed it on her thigh. Adam snickered, as though laughing at her reaction.
“You know,” she said, “I’m having second thoughts. I think I might go—”
“Rachel Marin?”
Rachel looked up. A tall man with dark-brown hair graying at the temples and a very serious look on his face was standing beside their table. She recognized him immediately. A black woman, about five six with braided hair and a look on her face that said You think he’s serious, don’t get me started stood next to him.
They both held Ashby PD badges.
“That would be me,” she replied. “Or, she would be I? Can I help you?”
Adam looked at the cops and then at Rachel and then back again.
“Listen, Officers,” Adam said, “I’m up on my child support this month. Ask Lisette, not that the bitch would ever admit she uses my money to pay off her asshole new husband’s mortgage.”
The cops ignored him.
“Ms. Marin, I’m Detective Serrano with the Ashby Police Department. This is my partner, Detective Tally. We’d like a few words with you.”
“Can I ask what this is regarding?”
Tally said, “I don’t think you want to have that conversation here.”
“I’m sorry, did I miss something?” Adam said. I’m betting you ask that a lot, Rachel thought.
“Apologies, sir,” Serrano said, “but we need to speak with Ms. Marin. Alone.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Rachel said.
Adam was scowling at Serrano, peeved that his surefire score had been interrupted. Serrano scowled back. The detective’s scowl was better. Adam looked down and stared at his shoes. That made her happy.
Serrano turned back to Rachel.
“We need to ask you about a strip mall outside of Peoria off of I-74.”
Rachel’s heart began to speed up. That was quicker than I expected.
“Listen, Magnum, P.I.,” Adam said. “We’re in the middle of dinner. You can’t just walk in here and—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Rachel was out of her chair. She tossed a twenty-dollar bill on the table.
“For the wine,” she said.
“Are you kidding me?” he said. “I paid for a hotel room!”
“And I paid for a babysitter,” she replied. “Looks like neither of us got our money’s worth.”
When they stepped outside, Rachel said, “All right, Detectives. I get to ask the first question. How in the hell did you find me so fast?”
CHAPTER 7
Rachel, Serrano, and Tally sat in a corner booth at the Starburst Diner off Wedgewood Lane. A cup of dark-roast coffee sat in front of Rachel, untouched. Tally was nibbling on an order of fries, and Serrano had already finished a bagel with scallion cream cheese.