“Of course. Liz was really special.”
Lauren had no idea what to say and an awkward dead air lingered on the line.
Michael broke the silence. “If there is anything Darcy or I can do to help, call us, okay?”
“I think you and Darcy have done plenty already. I have to go.” Lauren had barely finished saying the words before she hit the Call End button.
She watched her cell phone screen impassively as her phone vibrated several more times.
After a while, she took some time to listen to her voice mail messages. Friends, coworkers, Dr. Stone, all calling to express their condolences. And dozens of reporters calling to request interviews. They had already managed to find her phone number somehow. Then a message from somebody she did wish to speak with. Lauren called him back.
His telephone voice was professional. “Detective Boyd.”
“Hello. This is Lauren Rose. Sorry I missed your call. I’ve been inundated.”
“Yes, this case has stirred up quite a media storm. Ride it out, it should die down, I mean quiet down, in a few days. How are you holding up?”
“Um, okay. Has there been any progress in the investigation?”
“Nothing significant yet. It may take some time, but we’ll sort it out. I was hoping I could come by and ask you a few more questions.”
Lauren agreed, eager to have something to contribute. She settled back on the couch to await his arrival, continuing to watch the news. It was like a bad car accident. She did not want to see it, but couldn’t resist looking. The ghastly news images were interrupted by a knock on the door. She checked the peephole, before opening the door to let Detective Boyd in.
“What can you tell me so far?” she asked.
“Not much. In an ongoing investigation; we aren’t authorized to release much information.”
“Not even to the family?”
“Not even to the family.” He shifted uncomfortably. “We have to consider everybody a suspect until we can rule them out. That’s partly why I’m here.”
“I’m a suspect? I thought you said it was a burglary?”
“That’s how it looks at this point, but most homicide victims are killed by somebody they know. The sooner we can rule out family and friends, the better. I was hoping I could see the clothes you were wearing last night.”
Last night seemed an eternity ago. Lauren glanced down at the rumpled scrubs she was still wearing, “You’re looking at them now.”
“I need to take them into evidence if you don’t object. You’ll get them back as soon as forensics is done examining them.”
“No problem. There’s more where these came from. The hospital provides fresh scrubs by the cartful. Let me just change out of them.”
Lauren stepped down the short hallway to her bedroom. She threw on the first clothes she could find, shorts and a T-shirt. She folded the scrubs and placed them in a plastic grocery sack before handing them to Detective Boyd. “It’s possible that you might find body fluid splashes from different people on those.”
Detective Boyd raised an eyebrow. “That should make the forensics team earn their paychecks. What time did you work last night?”
“My shift was scheduled from noon to midnight, but I didn’t actually get off until this morning because of a tough case.”
“Did you run out for Starbucks or anything?”
The very idea struck Lauren as funny, but she couldn’t muster a laugh. “No. We don’t usually have much time to eat. Sometimes, we don’t even have time to use the bathroom. We joke about inserting catheters so we don’t have to.”
“Is there somebody at your work that could verify your shift?”
“The best one would be my resident. I doubt I could get out of his sights for more than thirty seconds without him noticing.” Lauren provided contact information for Dr. Stone.
Boyd hesitated for a moment, “Miss Rose, did you know you were the sole beneficiary on your sister’s life insurance policy?”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. She changed it just recently from Jake to you. Any idea why?”
“None. I didn’t even know she had life insurance.”
“Was she having marital problems?”
“No, not that she mentioned.”
“And would she have mentioned it to you if she was?”
“Yes,” Lauren answered immediately, but then hesitated. She hadn’t even known that Liz wanted to be cremated. “At least I think so.”
Chapter Five
(Monday, July 25)
Unable to sleep, Lauren was relieved when her bedroom lightened at dawn, giving her an excuse to quit trying. She headed out for her morning run. She had been plagued by insomnia after her parents died and running had given her an excuse to start her day early.
Afterwards, she showered before perusing the Internet, hoping the web might provide details about the investigation. Typing Liz’s name into the search engine resulted in dozens of hits. Most were about the murder the day before, but none yielded more than Lauren already knew; the Scottsdale police suspected Liz had been victimized by a burglar who expected the house to be unoccupied. Several older articles were written about Liz’s charity work. Others were society pages, heralding Liz and Jake’s attendance at various events.
Lauren couldn’t believe how many hits Liz’s name produced. Previous Google searches of Lauren’s own name produced only one mention of herself, an article listing her as one of ninety-seven medical school graduates from UCLA earlier in the year. Idly, Lauren entered her own name in the search engine and was astonished when several links popped up, identifying her as a surviving sister in news articles about Liz’s death.
Lauren watched the clock, wondering how soon she could call the detectives for an update. She gave herself permission to call at eight o’clock, but at 7:47, she broke down and dialed Detective Boyd’s number. He answered on the third ring.
“I’m sorry to bother you so early, but I was wondering if you have any news about the investigation?”
“I was actually waiting for a decent hour so I could call you. Would you be able to come into the station to give a statement? The more we know about the victim, the better.”
“Absolutely.” Lauren jumped at the chance to help.
Though she hadn’t lived in Phoenix long, she was adept at navigating the city streets, which ran along predictable grids. The Scottsdale Via Linda Police Station looked more like a small resort than a government building.
A stout receptionist took Lauren’s name and Detective Boyd soon rounded a corner to greet her. It looked like he had not shaved since the previous day and his hair was untidy. His tie knot had been loosened around his neck. Dark circles ringed his eyes. Lauren hoped his disheveled appearance meant he had been making good headway on the investigation.
“Wow. You made good time. I hope you didn’t pass any of our local traffic cops. They hand out speeding tickets like candy around here. It’s a nice little source of revenue for the city. Funds lots of donuts.” Lauren forced a polite smile and did not dispute his assumption that she had been speeding.
He shook her hand and offered a warm smile. “How are you holding up?”
Lauren’s eyes filled with tears and she shrugged her shoulders in response.
“I know this must be a terribly difficult time for you,” he said. “Can I get you coffee or anything?”
“No, thank you.”
As Boyd led Lauren down the building hallways, he said, “We’d like to tape the interview if you don’t mind. It allows us to review helpful information later if needed.”
“Sure. No problem.”
They entered a small room with a table, two chairs, and a two-way mirror on one wall. Lauren doubted anybody cared enough to observe this mundane family member interview from the other side. The room was freezing and
Lauren, who was wearing shorts and a T-shirt appropriate for the 107-degree day, wished she had thought to bring a sweater.
Detective Boyd encouraged Lauren to take a seat. The metal chair was cold and uncomfortable. Boyd offered coffee again and Lauren, now shivering, asked for tea. He arranged for warm tea to be brought in and Lauren was grateful when he draped his own suit jacket around her shoulders.
Despite the formality of the interview room and the whirring video camera in the corner, the conversation was comfortable. Boyd started by asking lots of questions about Liz. How did Liz spend her time? Who were her closest friends? What were her hobbies? Lauren answered to the best of her ability, uneasily realizing she no longer knew all the details of Liz’s personal life. Liz had often visited Lauren in California, but Lauren had not often had the time to make the trip to Arizona. And since starting her internship in Phoenix, Lauren had been too busy to spend much time in Liz’s world.
“Was Liz cautious? Did she lock doors and set her security system?” Boyd asked.
“She wasn’t easily spooked. We grew up in a small town where nobody locked their doors. Jake worried about security, so Liz locked up and used the alarm, but she wasn’t obsessive about it.”
“Would she have opened the door to a stranger?”
“I don’t know. She might have.”
“Tell me about Liz’s relationship with Jake.”
“They met at Arizona State. He was on the baseball team, of course. And Liz was a cheerleader. They started dating when she was a sophomore and he was a junior. They were crazy about each other. When he got drafted by the Diamondbacks at the end of his senior year, Liz quit school so she could travel with him. They got married that summer. It would have been seven years this August.”
“And they got along well?”
“Incredibly. He was the Ken to her Barbie.”
“Except Ken and Barbie ended up splitting up.”
Lauren almost smiled. “Wow, you have an impressive command of Barbie’s personal life. I just meant that they seemed perfect for one another.”
“And what about the relationship between you and Liz?”
“We were exceptionally close. Losing our parents really bonded us. I wouldn’t have survived that without Liz. She’s always the first person I want to call when something significant happens in my life.” Lauren realized she had lapsed into the present tense when referring to Liz.
“Have you had any arguments lately?”
“None.”
Detective Boyd asked Lauren to specify her movements the previous evening. She reiterated what she had told him before. She had spent all night at the hospital, staying until morning because of a tough case.
“Thank you so much for coming in this morning. I appreciate it,” Detective Boyd said, wrapping up the interview.
“Of course. Any time.”
“Detective Wallace would like to ask you a few more questions before you leave.” He glanced at the two-way mirror and Lauren realized for the first time that other people had been watching the interview. Now, her shivering was unrelated to the temperature.
Boyd exited as Detective Wallace entered the room. He was wearing the same suit he had been wearing the day before, which looked rumpled. His eyes were bloodshot and watery. But he entered the room with a commanding presence.
“I have a few matters that we need to clear up, Miss Rose,” he said.
“Of course.”
“Isn’t it true that you were jealous of Liz?”
“What? No. We—”
But Wallace interrupted, “Isn’t it true that you were jealous of her wealth while you took out loans to get through school?”
“No.” Lauren furrowed her brows.
Detective Wallace leaned in now, getting uncomfortably close. “Didn’t you convince your sister to change her life insurance policy shortly before she was killed?”
As Wallace neared her, Lauren shrank back in her seat. She responded with absolute clarity. “That’s ridiculous. You worked all night and that’s the best you’ve come up with?”
“I think we’re done here,” Wallace said, departing the room without another word. As if on cue, Boyd re-entered. He smiled at her, but said nothing as he busied himself with the video camera. Lauren fired upon him. “What the hell was that all about? You guys can’t seriously think I did this!”
Detective Boyd finished clicking off the equipment. “Don’t worry about him. He’s under a lot of pressure to solve this case. To him, everybody is a suspect until proven otherwise.”
“But I was at work all night.”
“We know. We already confirmed your shift with Dr. Stone. You were at the hospital for your entire shift, right?”
“And then some,” she said.
Chapter Six
(Tuesday, July 26)
Everybody in attendance at the memorial, which seemed like every well-connected person in the Phoenix metropolitan area, commented on how beautiful the service was. The church was gorgeous, the flower arrangements were plentiful, the minister’s platitudes were polished. Jake was overwhelmed by grief so Buffy had planned the service. The entire event resembled Buffy’s house: flawless, ostentatious, and impersonal. The minister referred to Liz as Elizabeth. Several of Liz’s “friends,” in their black Armani dresses and mile-high Prada heels, spoke about how close they had been to “Elizabeth.” Lauren didn’t recognize any of them.
Jake spoke eloquently about the amazing life they shared while noisy television helicopters hovered overhead, trying to get video footage of the mourners.
Lauren didn’t speak. She had offered to help with the service, but Jake had assured her everything had already been arranged. She and Rose-ma sat together in the front pew alongside Jake and his parents. Lauren felt detached, as if attending the funeral of a stranger.
After the memorial, Jake ushered Lauren and Rose-ma into one of several black Lincoln town cars heading to a mausoleum in North Scottsdale. They rode in silence, alone with their grief.
Lauren hoped the Wakefields had limited the cemetery service to family members. They had not. Dozens of cars lined up behind Jake’s car with illuminated headlights. Policemen on motorcycles solemnly escorted the long procession to the cemetery. Hundreds of Jake’s fans lined the streets, hooting, hollering, and holding up homemade signs. At Paradise Memorial Gardens, cooling fans blew mist on the large crowd as the minister launched into yet another long-winded sermon about God’s wisdom.
Lauren began to count the times the minister used the word “mysterious.” By the time he wrapped up thirty-five minutes later, she was up to thirty-eight. More than one per minute. That must be some sort of weird world record. Jake kissed the ornate urn before it was placed into a small vault that resembled Lauren’s locker at work.
Anger reared up like a beast within Lauren’s chest. Anger at God for taking Liz. Anger at Buffy for planning the world’s most impersonal service. Anger at the minister for not knowing when to shut up already. Anger at all these society crowd looky-loos who wanted to be able to brag about attending the hot ticket event. Anger at the police for not catching the killer yet. And anger at Liz for leaving her. If Liz was here, she would make Lauren laugh about this ridiculous circus. If only Liz were here…
Despite the elaborate misting system, Rose-ma was wilting and Lauren needed to get her out of the sun before she suffered heatstroke. It took her a moment to locate Jake in the crowd, where he was being consoled by several of his teammates. He excused himself to greet Lauren as she approached. “I need to get Rose-ma out of this heat.”
“Why don’t you two head to my parents’ house?” he offered. “Mom hired a caterer. Rose-ma can rest in the guest quarters if she likes.”
Lauren didn’t relish the prospect of making small talk with a bunch of strangers.
“I don’t know.” Lauren said, trying to think
of a reasonable excuse.
Jake seemed to read her mind. “No worries. You can come by later if you feel up to it. Take any of the town cars. Just tell the driver where you want to go.” He hugged Rose-ma and whispered in Lauren’s ear as he embraced her, “I’ll call you soon. Thanks for your support. It means the world to me.”
The rest of the guests continued to mingle as if at some macabre cocktail party. Lauren helped to steady Rose-ma in her sturdy heels as they headed back to the cars.
“Lauren?”
Detective Boyd was hurrying across the grass behind them. He greeted them both courteously. “Is everything all right?”
Lauren explained that Rose-ma was overheating.
Boyd nodded understandingly. “Before you go, can you tell me if there was anybody at the service that you didn’t recognize?”
Lauren hesitated. How did she tell him that about the only person she did know was in the urn? She fumbled over her words, explaining how she had been busy with school in California. How she had only recently moved to Arizona. How she and Liz squeezed in time together around Lauren’s crazy schedule. Even to her own ears, it sounded like a series of excuses to explain why she hadn’t even known who her own sister’s friends had been. He assured her that he understood.
The cool interior of the car was welcoming. As soon as the car pulled away, Rose-ma said, “That was a very strange service.” She appeared flustered and stammered, “I didn’t mean to say strange. What I meant to say was that was a very sweet service. I’m sorry. Sometimes my words come out wrong.” Lauren smiled wearily at her grandmother and patted her hand.
“Don’t worry, Rose-ma, I know exactly what you meant.”
Chapter Seven
(Friday, July 29)
True to his word, Jake called Lauren a few days later. Lauren took a break from work to take his call, hoping his name on her caller ID meant there had been a break in the case.
“Hey, Lauren. I was calling to check on you and Rose-ma,” he said.
“We’re doing as well as can be expected. How about you?”
The Perfect Game Page 3
