by April Henry
“First of all, Mr. Sanchez, I want to thank you for your cooperation at such a difficult time. Your wife,” Tyler sighed noisily, “your wife was a beautiful woman. I want you to know that we’re gonna catch this guy.”
Kevin nodded, his face drawn. “Thanks.”
“There’s a couple of things I need to get out of the way. I’m gonna need to take your picture so that I can show it to the hotel staff. That way, if they tell me they saw Cindy with a man, and then they point at your photograph, I’ll be able to rule that out, okay? You being her husband and all.”
A curt nod. “All right. If that’s what you need to do.”
Tyler looked through the viewfinder of the Polaroid camera, then put it down again. “What’s that mark on your shirt?” It was dark brown, a roughly oval blotch about the size of a half-dollar.
Kevin looked down, but his view was blocked by the open collar of his white dress shirt.
“There. Just below your left shoulder.”
“What are you - oh, God. It looks like blood. I guess that’s what it must be. Cindy’s blood.” He touched it gingerly, tenderly, almost stroking it. “When I went out there and saw her lying on that hard ground with everyone gawking at her, I just wanted to hold her. To protect her. I guess part of me knew she was dead, but I just couldn’t believe it.”
“It’s a hard thing.” Tyler nodded in agreement. He picked up the camera and snapped the picture, leaving Kevin blinking from the flash. “I’m also gonna need your fingerprints. Same story. It makes it easier to find the perp if we have everyone else’s fingerprints on file.”
Kevin turned his hands over and looked at them. His fingers were long and narrow, unmarked by anything but the plain gold band on his left hand. While Tyler rolled his fingers on the ink pad, Kevin held his upper body rigid. From one of the restaurant’s cardboard boxes, Tyler handed him a little package of moist towellettes (the restaurant handed them out after barbecue meals), and Kevin wiped his fingers clean.
Picking up his narrow tan notebook, Tyler flipped it open. “Okay, could you please state your name, address and occupation for the record?”
“I’m trying to be cooperative, officer, but I don’t see how this is going to help anything. Shouldn’t you be out there finding out who killed my wife instead of going through all this rigmarole?” Kevin ran his hands through his hair. There was so much gel that his fingers left furrows.
“That’s what we are doing. I’ve got one of my men talking to the hotel staff, trying to find anyone who might have seen what happened out there. The other one’s working the crime scene, getting fingerprints and looking for any other evidence.”
“That’s just two people. Two! You need more than that!”
“Look, I’ve got exactly eight cops working for me. That’s to cover seven days a week, twenty-four hours a day. The best I can do at any one time is two, and that’s stretching it. Right now, I’m working off the clock, but here I am, questioning anyone who was at the reunion. And don’t forget about the medical examiner. He will be looking about the time of death, et cetera. He’s already sent swabs to the lab.”
“Swabs?”
Tyler’s words were a mumble. “From the, the body.” He began to tap his pencil rapidly on the edge of the desk.
“But why - you don’t mean Cindy was raped, do you?” Kevin’s face paled. “Oh, God. Some son of a bitch raped and strangled my wife?” He gripped the arms of his chair until his fingers turned white.
Too late, Tyler began shaking his head. “I’m not saying that at all. We just hafta look at all the possibilities. Then we can rule them out.” Thankful to change the subject, he asked again, “So, what is your name, address and occupation?”
“But I still don’t see why you need to ask me these stupid questions. I already gave that other cop some of the same information.”
Tyler nodded. “I understand why you feel the way that you do. But for us to catch the perp who did this, we’re gonna need information. Lots of it. If you make me give you a reason for every question I ask, it’s gonna take a lot longer.”
“All right, then. Kevin Sanchez. 3434 Pine Terrace, Minor, Oregon. I’m a senior partner with Denight, Sanchez and Torch. That’s a law firm in Portland.”
“And Cindy? What was her occupation?”
Kevin’s voice became high-pitched, strangled. “My God, she’s really dead, isn’t she? I keep forgetting that. Just - just a minute.” His ragged breathing filled the small space. Pressing hard, he passed his hands over his face, leaving his expression blank. “Okay. Cindy is a sales rep for Nelsons, the biggest cheerleading outfitter in the country. And she also does some consulting with local cheerleading teams.”
“Like the Blazer Dancers.” Tyler nodded. “She told me that.”
“Yeah. Like the, the Blazer Dancers. Like them.”
“And how long were you two married?”
“I still don’t why you have to ask these questions. You should be out there,” he waved his arm behind him, “finding the guy who did this to her.”
Tyler’s voice was flat. “I know this is hard, but please humor me.”
“We’ve been married for sixteen years. Together for twenty. We met in college. I was a senior and she was a freshman.” A soft smile transformed Kevin’s face. “She was the most beautiful thing I ever saw. They used to call us day and night, because she was so blonde and I was so dark. While she finished up school, I went to law school at Lewis and Clark. We got married the same year I joined my dad’s firm. That was hard on her. Cindy never understood about those ninety-billable hour weeks. And then my dad died when he was only fifty-two. Those were big shoes to fill.”
“What kind of law does your firm practice?”
“Estates, mostly. It’s not a particularly dramatic area.” The police chief looked up as a tension entered Kevin’s voice. “They won’t ever make a TV show about the kind of cases I handle.
“Why do you live in Minor instead of Portland? Isn’t that a long commute?”
“Cindy grew up here. Even if it’s changed a lot, she still feels like this is her home turf.”
“And how would you rate your relationship with your wife?” Tyler strove for a jovial, ‘you can tell me anything because I’ve heard it all before,’ note, but it fell flat. “Any troubles in that arena?”
There was a long silence. Kevin finally broke it, his expression now impassive, haughty. “Are you saying you are looking at me as a suspect in my own wife’s death? I think I may need to make a phone call to my attorney.”
“Look, I gotta ask the question. You know that. It’s part of the procedure.”
“You may think that this is an area you need to examine, but let me assure you that you’re wrong. Cindy and I got along very well. She’s a beautiful woman. We’ve been - we were - married for sixteen years. We have a daughter - Alexa. Oh, God. Alexa.” He half got up from his chair, then sat back down heavily. “How can I tell her that her mother is dead?” Then Kevin interrupted himself, his voice taut with anguish, “Tell me, do you think she suffered? Do you think she was in much pain?”
“No,” Tyler said. Perhaps too quickly. “I don’t think she suffered. It would have been over in a minute or two.”
“Do you know how long a minute or two is when you can’t breathe?” He buried his face in his hands and spoke from behind their shelter. “I know another attorney who got a death penalty conviction just by having the jurors sit still for two minutes and think about how long that would be to die. When they deliberated, it took them less than fifteen minutes to decide that the guy who did it didn’t deserve to live either.”
Tyler didn’t disagree. Instead he changed the subject. “I need you to think carefully. Has there been anything out of the ordinary lately that upset your wife? Any arguments with people she knew? Or even people she didn’t know? Has she said anything about someone, say, stalking her?”
There was a long pause, then Kevin shook his head. “No. Cindy gets along wel
l with everyone. She’s a real people person.”
“Was there anything she was uptight about in regards to the reunion? Anyone she didn’t want to see tonight - anything like that?”
“Not at all. On the contrary, she told me she was looking forward to it. Sure, maybe she was a little bit nervous. She didn’t want anyone to think that she was over the hill. I tried to tell her that all the people here were going to be the same age she was.” Kevin’s next words were in the same tone he must have used with his wife. “People you went to high school with are definitely going to know how old you are, so there’s no need to worry about it.”
“Did you notice her talking to anyone for a long time tonight? Or having a particularly intense conversation with any one?”
Kevin shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know most of the people she went to high school with. I guess I met some of them at the ten-year reunion, but that was, well, ten years ago. I mean, I knew Belinda, of course. She’s been Cindy’s best friend forever. But all I really know about tonight is that it seemed to me that Cindy talked to everyone. Even you, officer.”
Tyler ignored this remark. “So you didn’t see her having any kind of an argument?”
“No. Not that I saw. I did see her looking kind of annoyed after talking to this guy she called Suede. You know, the car dealer guy. His real name is Wade Smarts, or something like that. She told me they dated a long time ago.” Kevin straightened in his chair. “Maybe you should have him in here for questioning.”
“Don’t worry. We will be interviewing him shortly. Did she ever talk about him to you?”
His answer was slow, reluctant. “Not that I can recall.”
“What about this box that was found with Cindy’s body?”
“What box?”
“When her body was first found, there was a little wooden heart-shaped box in her hand. So you didn’t see it? You never held it?”
“No. I didn’t even know she owned anything like that.”
“We also recovered her purse from the scene, but there’s no wallet in it. Does she normally carry a wallet?”
Kevin nodded. “It’s black eelskin, with a checkbook inside and all her credit cards.”
“If you could come up with a list of all her accounts, that might be helpful.” Tyler tore a blank page from the notebook and pushed it toward him. “Just list everything you can remember. If you have cards you both carry, then maybe you can get the number off what you already have in your wallet. I’m going to take a hard look at the people who were in here tonight, gambling. See if any of them ran out of funds and then came back with more.” He looked down and made another note. “We’re almost done, and then I can let you go. Could you just sketch out for me the last time you saw your wife alive? And what you did from that time until the time the body was discovered?”
“Cindy had a headache, but she didn’t want to leave. There was some Advil in her suitcase, and she said she was going back to our room to take it and then come back. I said, ‘Why don’t we both go and not come back?’ It was getting late. But she wasn’t ready to leave. You’ll probably find that there are a dozen people who can tell you I spent all night at that table, watching Cindy do her thing. My role was to be the spouse and to look interested when people I had never met before talked about something that happened twenty years ago. Then she left, only she didn’t come back. I was wondering if she had lain down on the bed for a few minutes and fallen asleep, although that didn’t seem very likely. I mean, Cindy had been talking about this event for weeks. I didn’t know what to do. I knew she would be mad if I went to look for her and lost our table. Then after a while, well, I had had a couple of drinks and I really had to go to the bathroom. So finally I spread my jacket over the table so no one would take it. So I missed Belinda coming in, and then everyone running outside to see what had happened. When I came out of the men’s room, the whole bar was in an uproar, talking about how Belinda had found Cindy’s, Cindy’s - oh God, you know. And then I ran outside and, and - and found her.”
Tyler looked up from his notebook. “You said she was going back to your hotel room?”
Kevin nodded.
“Then why do you think she was found in the corner of the parking lot farthest away from the hotel?”
“I don’t have any idea. Someone must have tricked her or lured her out there. Maybe this guy pulled a gun and marched her out there. I still - I still can’t believe it. How can she be dead? How could she die without my feeling it? You’d think I’d feel it in here when it happened,” Kevin thumped his closed fist against his chest, “or that I would think I heard her voice calling me. Something. After nearly twenty years you’d think we’d be that connected. But I had no idea. I was just sitting there drinking a gin and tonic and wondering when she would hurry up and come back.”
“You said you don’t know of any arguments she had tonight, or of anyone stalking her. Did your wife have any enemies?”
Kevin’s laugh was unexpected. “Who are you kidding? Cindy was the most popular girl at Minor High. She was beautiful. She was head cheerleader, for god’s sake. She dated any boy she wanted. You don’t think that was reason enough for someone to hate her, even after twenty years?”
Chapter Nine
From the interview with Belinda Brophy-Muller
Belinda’s frayed blonde hair had half-fallen down from its pins. She swiped it from her raccooned eyes. The room was warm, but still she wrapped her black leather jacket tight around her. “I feel awful, Tyler. Do you really have to talk to me? You’ve got my photograph and my fingerprints - isn’t that enough? I didn’t see anything except the - the body. And that was just for a second. Now my head hurts so bad. I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Her voice was like that of a little girl’s, pitched high and breathy.
“Belinda, I gotta talk to you tonight, before you start forgetting things. If you need to, use this.” He leaned down under the desk, reappearing with a round metal wastebasket. There was a clang when he set it down.
His tough love approach just resulted in a fresh burst of weeping.
Tyler sighed noisily. “You still pal around with Cindy, right? I’ve seen you guys around town.”
“I, I, I....”
“Take your time.” His tone was impatient. He rummaged around on the wire shelves until he found an open carton half-filled with white boxes of generic tissue. Ripping one open, he pushed it in her direction.
Finally, Belinda managed a nod. Her face was puffy and blotched from weeping. “She is my best friend.”
“Was she looking forward to this reunion? What kinda mood had she been in lately?”
“What kind of mood? A good mood, of course.” She blew her nose. “You know how everyone liked her at school, how popular she was, so of course she was looking forward to seeing everyone again. I was over at her house last week and she must have tried on everything in her closet, trying to figure out what to wear. Cindy was really revved up about this. She was very excited - and a little bit nervous.”
“Nervous,” Tyler echoed, and wrote that down. “So Cindy was nervous - did she say anything about receiving any threats, or -.”
“No,” Belinda interrupted. “Excited nervous, not scared nervous. She was looking forward to seeing all her old friends.”
“What about her old enemies?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The silence hung between them until finally she was forced to break it. “All right, maybe there were a couple of people in high school that didn’t like her that much. But, Tyler, that was twenty years ago. If someone from our high school hated Cindy enough to kill her, they could have done it a long time ago. And, besides, I can’t think of any one who would have really wanted to kill her. You saw what she looked like, the same as I did! How could anybody do that to another human being?”
“You’d be surprised what people are capable of.” He tapped the end of his pen on the open notebook. “Who were her enemies in high school? I can think
of a few people, but I don’t want to put words in your mouth.”
“That just it, Tyler. What I’m trying to tell you is that maybe a couple of people she wasn’t in sync with, but there wasn’t anyone you would call an enemy.”
“Give me a for instance of someone she wasn’t ‘in sync’ with.”
“Come on, Tyler, you know. The people who weren’t - popular. Like Dick - I guess I mean Richard. Or Jim Prentiss. Or that Claire Montrose. Or even you. The way I remember it, you didn’t get along that good with her either.” She hesitated, wiping a balled up tissue under her nose. “Didn’t you ask her out on a date once?”
“I don’t remember that.” He switched subjects so fast that it left Belinda flustered. “You were Cindy’s best friend. How would you describe Cindy’s relationship with her husband? Have their been any tensions between them? Any fights? Have either of them had affairs?”
“Of course not!” The tissue thudded into the wastebasket. “Their relationship was - excellent.” Belinda lifted her empty hands, palm up, to her shoulders, then let them drop back to her lap. “This is going to be so hard on Kevin. They were very close.”
“Did anything unusual happen tonight? Did Cindy have any arguments or confrontations?”
She hesitated. “I’m not sure it was really anything.”
“What?”
“Well, that Logan West. Did you see him? He’s all big and, and - hulking now. He was watching her all this evening. Did you notice that? Cindy, ... Cindy,” Belinda’s voice sputtered to a stop, but then she recovered. “Cindy told me Logan was giving her the creeps tonight. Everyone knows that he went crazy after high school and had to go to the nut house. I don’t know why he would want to come back here and make everyone else uncomfortable.”
