by Kim Pritekel
“Definitely looks like she was strangled,” she noted. “We’ll have to see if the M.E. finds petechiae or that her hyoid bone is broken. Any identification on her?”
“Nothing,” Oscar said. “She was just like this when we arrived, and the guy who found her said he didn’t touch her or anything on the scene.”
Catania stood. “Who found her?”
“A guy who works at one of the prisons up near Canon City,” one of the uniformed officers said, hitching his thumb up Hwy 50 toward the small town where nine prisons were clustered in a large complex. “He’s a corrections officer. Drives this route every single day, so he noticed her.”
Catania nodded. “Where’s he at now?”
“He went on down to the station,” Oscar explained. “Borger is talking to him, getting his statement.”
“Okay.”
Looking back at their victim, Catania noticed something about the woman who looked to be in her late forties or older. Her red hair looked to be a bottle job. But what caught her eye as odd, aside from the woman wearing a summer dress, were the soles of her feet.
“Oscar?” she said, bringing her finger up to run the pad over rough skin. “What would you say would cause calluses on the bottom of your feet?”
“Calluses?” Oscar asked, stepping up next to her.
“Yeah.” She met his confused gaze. “What would make you get calluses on your feet?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers to jiggle his keys and change. “Going around barefoot. Sandals, maybe.”
“Agreed.” She indicated the autumn-dead ground around them. “In autumn in Colorado?” She reached over and tugged at the overcoat he wore over the wrinkled suit jacket. “And, a little cold for a summer dress, don’t you think?”
Oscar looked down at the woman as he chewed on his bottom lip. Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion in his mind, he nodded. “The summer dress can be explained. She could have it on for a million reasons, or someone else could have put it on her. But the calluses…”
“The calluses.”
“You’re wanting to look outside of Colorado, aren’t you?”
She ran her hands through her hair, studying the woman’s feet to make sure Oscar’s conclusion was in fact what her gut was telling her. “Yup. Gut feeling. Missing persons maybe in Florida, down south somewhere. Mexico.” She shrugged and let out a heavy sigh. “Who knows.”
“Nia,” Oscar warned. “It’s entirely possible that this lady just enjoys being barefoot, even in cold weather. Maybe she has warm, comfy carpeting in her house.”
Catania made a noise of contemplation, then something else caught her eye. She reached into the pocket of her jacket and tugged out the latex gloves she’d snagged before leaving her Jeep. Wiggling her fingers into them, she squatted again and lightly touched the woman’s big toe. Taking a closer look, she saw what she was looking for.
“Look,” she said, looking up to see Oscar leaning over her. “Pretty deep indention where the toe piece would be on flip-flops or the type of sandal that either wraps around the big toe or goes between your toes.”
“You’re right. Yeah, I see it.” The two detectives stood erect, the officers looking back at them. “This woman is definitely not from around here.”
Chapter Seven
Catania stood in front of the mirror in the women’s room and looked into the eyes of the reflection that stared back at her. She puffed her cheeks out before blowing out a loud breath, preparing herself for the interview she was about to do. She took in her women’s cut suit, light gray with tiny black pinstripes. Reaching up, she straightened the jacket a bit before turning and walking out of the room, the chunky heels of her shoes clicking on the tile floor.
Walking up to Interview Room 2, Catania put a smile on her face to acknowledge the man who sat on one side of the small, rectangular table, two plastic chairs on either side.
“Good morning, Mr. Tanner.” She took the chair across from the slender blond man with large, green eyes. She slapped her notebook down onto the table and set a small recorder next to it. “I’m Detective Catania d’Giovanni. My partner, Oscar Riley, whom you spoke to on the phone, won’t be joining us today.” She eyed him, curious of his reaction to that news. She and Oscar had decided to send her in alone, a woman, considering that he’d mentioned to Oscar what he wanted to talk about and what Catania intended to try and get out of him.
“Uh, okay,” he said, nodding. He was dressed in jeans and a V-neck sweater. The Denver Broncos baseball cap he wore was perched atop his head, revealing some of his bangs and giving him a boyish innocence even as his unshaven face and tired eyes belied a man in his late thirties.
“Can I call you Kevin?” she asked conversationally, opening up her notebook to a clean page and jotting down across the top the date, time, and the name, Kevin Tanner – Luhan/Gomez case.
“Sure. That’s fine.”
“Do you mind if I record this, Kevin?” she asked, tapping the recorder.
“Uh, no. Go ahead. I’ve got nothing to hide,” he said, clasping his hands on the table in front of him.
Catania glanced at his hands, noting his thumbs were fidgeting nervously. She also noticed they were big hands, rough, a working man’s hands. She reached over and hit the Record button on the recorder and turned her focus to her companion.
“Okay, I’m sitting here with Kevin Tanner. Kevin, you’re here of your own volition and can leave at any time. You are not under arrest and you’ve agreed to tell your story and answer any questions, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, great. Tell me why you’re here.”
“Well, I’m here to talk about Ana.”
“Ana?” Catania asked, cocking her head slightly. Though she knew exactly why he was there, she didn’t want him to know that. She wanted to see how similar the facts were compared to the bit he’d told Oscar.
“Anastasia, sorry. Anastasia Luhan, the woman who was murdered.” He cleared his throat, bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck before adjusting his baseball cap only to return that hand to its mate on the table. “I, uh, I’m the father of the baby she was carrying.”
Catania didn’t react even as her jaw was dropping inside.
“After I heard about what happened to her…” He looked away and swallowed, rubbing at his chin before returning his attention to her. “I felt I should come in.”
“Okay. Why don’t you start at the beginning, Kevin. How did you know Anastasia?”
“I met her where she worked. You probably know she was the manager at Loaf ’N Jug over on Fourth Street. I work for Grumble & Co., so we met because of that.”
“What is Grumble & Co.?” Catania asked, pen poised over her notepad.
“Uh, a distributor to various places in Pueblo. Foods, beer, that kind of stuff. I dealt with the imported beers for a handful of stores here in town.”
Her eyes flicked up to him for a moment before jotting down the new information. “Alright.”
“Anyway, so it started out as just chatting, that kind of thing. Maybe a little flirting. I was having problems in my marriage, she was having issues with Jerry.” He shrugged. “You know, just kind of commiserating together, I guess.”
Catania sat back in her chair. “Were you dating?”
“No. No, nothing like that. I mean, we got close, obviously,” he explained, letting out an exasperated sigh. “But it was never anything like that. We were together twice, maybe three times, that was it.”
She could hear the earnest tone of his voice but was still skeptical. “‘Together.’ As in, the two of you had sex two, maybe three times?” At his nod she continued. “Okay, so then what happened?”
“Ana got pregnant. She told me right away. See, we’d already decided by that point to not see each other like that anymore. I was trying to work on my marriage and she said she was afraid of Jerry finding out. She said she was afraid of Jerry, period.” He studied his hands and
added softly. “She said he’d kill us if he found out.”
“Did Jerry know about the pregnancy?
“No. At least, that’s what she told me. I don’t know if he found out somehow. But, one night I met with Ana and Aaron to decide—”
“Aaron Gomez?” Catania asked, surprised.
He met her gaze. “Yeah. Eric’s father.”
“Aaron knew about you and Anastasia? And the baby?”
“He was helping us find someone to take it.”
Catania stared at him, stunned at this tidbit that Oscar hadn’t told her. She had to assume his conversation with Kevin hadn’t gotten this far. “Okay. So, Anastasia was going to continue with the pregnancy, then? What about Jerry?”
“She was planning to break it off with him, she told me. Before the pregnancy was obvious. Or,” he added. “He thought it was his.”
Catania nodded. “I see. So, the plan was to give it up for adoption?”
“Well, Aaron said he knew of some guy who was willing to take it. I guess him and his wife weren’t able to have kids or something.”
Interest definitely piqued, Catania was ready to write again. “Do you know who this man is?”
Kevin shook his head. “No. I know they were supposed to meet with him at some point, but I don’t know if it happened before…well, before.” Again he cleared his throat. He shook his head. “I never saw this coming, Detective. I just can’t believe this happened to her. Ana was a good person.” He brought a hand up and swiped roughly at his left eye.
“I know,” Catania said softly. “It’s a horrible thing.” She grew silent as he pulled himself together, his emotions clearly threatening to break. “Can I get you anything, Kevin? Coffee? A Coke from the machine?”
“A Coke, please,” he muttered, covering his face with his hands.
Without a word, Catania pushed her chair back from the table and excused herself, taking his unspoken plea for what it was: he was about to break down and didn’t want an audience. She’d seen it a million times in situations like this, and wanted to give him the respect and space he deserved.
Closing the door softly behind her, she reached into her hip pocket as she headed for the break room where the vending machines were. Bringing out some change, she nodded at a couple of officers who were eating their lunch and playing on their phones. That made her reach for her own phone and jet off a text to Oscar, who moments later appeared in the break room in response.
“Hey,” he said. “So?”
“This goes so deep, Oscar,” she said, eyeing him as she stepped up to the Coke machine. She sorted through the coins in her palm. “Shit. Do you have a dime?”
The older man reached into his pocket and pulled out a few singles, handing her one. “What do you mean?
“Thanks. Well, not only is Kevin Tanner the father of Anastasia’s baby, but according to him, she was planning to go full term, dump DeHererra, and she, Tanner, and Aaron Gomez were in cahoots to find someone to take the baby.”
Oscar stared at her before handing her another dollar. “Get me one too, will ya?”
Smiling at her partner’s antics, she did as asked. He took the cold twenty-ounce plastic bottle from her. “Jesus Christ. Do you buy it?”
Catania tapped her fingernails on the red cap of the bottle she held as she contemplated his question, one she’d asked herself over the past half an hour. “I don’t know. I think so. He seems very genuine and pretty upset by the murders, but I don’t know.”
“You should get a sample,” Oscar suggested, twisting off the cap of his soda and taking a drink.
Catania raised the bottle to eye level and grinned at him. “Already plan to.” She clapped him on the shoulder before heading back to Kevin Tanner.
****
Catania waited a moment before raising her fist and knocking again. This time she heard movement on the other side of the door before locks were disengaged and the door was pulled open. She put a smile on her face and held up the packaged carrot cake she’d bought at the bakery on her way over.
Matteo appeared in the opened doorway and glanced at her then down at the cake. “Can you come back in twenty minutes?”
She stared at him, blinking a few times. “Uh, okay. Sure.”
“Thanks.” Grabbing the cake out of her hands, the door was slammed in her face and locks reengaged.
“Alrighty, then.”
Glancing at her phone to get the time, she sighed and turned away from the second-floor door and headed down the hall, deciding to find Karen and see how things were going from her perspective.
Trotting down the long staircase, Catania smiled and nodded at another resident who gave her a small wave as they passed on the third stair. Reaching the main floor, Catania trailed her fingers over the large, round finial as she took the turn off the stairs and made her way down the main hall past the etched glass front doors.
She passed the doors of two apartments, hearing the muffled sounds of what seemed to be a TV behind one. Knowing the kitchen was at the back of the large house, she headed in that direction but stopped when she heard Karen’s voice, followed by Jason’s.
Following the voices, she ended up at an open doorway, smaller than the average with a rounded top. She ducked her head under the doorframe and slipped into the small room beyond. It was the door tucked underneath the staircase that typically would lead to a coat closet or the basement stairs, but in this case it opened up to a room about the size of a large walk-in closet. Half of it was a small nook with limited headroom and an octagonal stained glass window bathing the space in blue and green light. Catania was surprised to find the seemingly subterranean room was actually high enough to accommodate a window to let in the natural light.
“Higher, Karen. I can’t do this if you don’t hold it up higher.”
“I’m trying, damn it! My arms are only so long.”
Chuckling to herself, Catania turned to the right, surprised to see a short, narrow hallway that took a sharp turn to the left and ended at the top of a staircase. She headed down, the rubber soles of her tennis shoes thudding on the wood.
“Hey, you got some issues down here?” she called as she went.
“Hello?” Karen said.
“Hey there.” Catania left the stairwell to find herself in a single room that was the size of a large bedroom. A small kitchenette was tucked against the wall to the left, a curtained-off area with a toilet and bath tub straight ahead, and the lion’s share of the room was empty to the right.
“Nia! Thank god. Help!”
Her focus back to the kitchenette area, she saw Karen on her tiptoes holding up a large ceiling fan as Jason worked to wire it into the ceiling. Hurrying over there, she reached up and took the burden from the shorter woman, easily hoisting it up closer to where Jason was trying to finish his task.
“Whew,” the older woman said, brushing her hands together before wiping them on the thighs of her jeans. “Great timing.”
“For who?” Catania teased, grinning down at her sister-in-law.
“Can you move it a little to the left, Nia?” Jason asked from where he stood on the stepladder.
Doing his bidding, Catania looked back at Karen. “What is this place? Got a new resident moving in?”
“No, this is for either the groundskeeper or cook,” Karen explained, watching Jason’s fingers work with the wires.
“It’s adorable as heck,” she said, looking around the area even as she continued to hold up the fan. “Like a little Hobbit home or something.”
“Isn’t it?” Karen agreed, hands on wide hips. “I think it’s just cute as a button. We’re trying to get it ready so I can bring in someone as an on-site cook. I just can’t do all this by myself anymore, Nia.”
“Yeah, that’s what Jason was saying at dinner the other day.”
“Okay, you can let it go. I think,” Jason said, slowly moving his hands away.
Catania removed her hands, noting it was wobbly. “Or not.” She quickly gr
abbed it again.
“Damn it. This old wiring is going to be the death of me.”
She grinned up at him. “You are an electrician, ya know.”
“Cute,” he said, returning her grin. “No time to do this whole place.”
“So, what’s in it for the cook or groundskeeper?”
“Room and board and a small wage,” Karen said, walking over to the long counter in the kitchenette that ran the span of the wall, an apartment-sized fridge on one end, stove on the other, with a sink positioned in the middle leaving counter space on either side. Bottles of cleaning products were gathered there, as well as a roll of paper towels and package of sponges.
“Okay, it’s good now, Nia,” Jason said, stepping down from the stepladder.
Lowering her arms, Catania nodded. “Definitely cute.” She turned to Karen. “So, how’s Matteo been? Terrorizing the other tenants yet?”
Karen smiled as she sprayed down the outside of the avocado-green fridge door with one of the cleaning products. “Not yet. He’s actually pretty quiet, to be honest.”
Both women turned when the bar light above the sink was no longer the only light source in the room. All three bulbs were alight and the fan blades were slowly beginning to spin. Jason, who stood over by the entrance to the room, had his finger on the light switch, looking up at his handiwork.
“Okay, Karen,” he said, walking over to the fan and reaching up to tug three times on the chain which controlled the fan, the blades lazily coming to a stop. He left the light on and walked over to Catania, giving her a quick one-armed hug and his wife a kiss to the cheek. “I have to get back to work.”
“Okay. Thanks, Jay,” Karen said, accepting the kiss. “Are you going to be home for dinner?”
Jason halted halfway to the doorway which led to the stairwell. “Uh,” he said, sparing a glance back at her. “Possibly. Not sure.”
“Okay. See you later.”
“Bye, Jason.” Catania watched him go and turned to Karen, noting the troubled look on her face as she turned back to her cleaning. She wasn’t exactly close to Karen, but she did like her. “Everything okay?” she asked lightly, not wanting to make anything too heavy if Karen didn’t want or need to talk.
