Think Murder (4 page)

The alarm clock jarred me awake the next day. I got up and took a shower without hitting my beloved snooze button. As I got dressed for work, I had to admit I was looking forward to seeing Detective Saks again.

A quick round with the blow dryer tamed my wavy mop. With dark hair and a fair complexion, I added a touch of blush and eyeliner to accent my boring brown eyes. Going for a conservative yet feminine look, I selected my black A-line skirt with a subdued green and yellow floral motif, and topped it off with a pale green blouse and a black shrug.

I arrived at work on time and went straight to my desk to check my email. Although a collection of general inter-office memos filled my Inbox, nothing there required immediate attention.

Within minutes, I got the first of several IMs on the messaging group a bunch of us share. Most of them were small talk. Then came the first sightings of the young detective on the premises – reported by Jada, the office receptionist. Kaye had settled him into one of the small meeting rooms and set up a series of appointments at his request. He was meeting with Kaye first.

The IMs continued to flow on and off throughout the morning, complete with commentary on his appearance, to whom he was talking, when and where. The steady string of interviewees included Dr. Stickler and his secretary, Carol, and a few support staff. So far no sighting of Duncan.

Always on the prowl for available young men, my female colleagues were on high alert. Our chat group was livelier than ever. Amber commented that he wasn’t bad looking, for a cop anyway. Her opinion was shared by most of the texters. Then one of the younger secretaries asked if anyone knew if he was single. I had been wondering the same thing. Jada quickly noted that he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Of course, that proved nothing.

Between messages, I managed to transform Matt’s notes on energy conservation into a coherent presentation for him to use at an upcoming conference. It wasn’t exactly a creative outlet, but Matt gave me a free hand in designing charts and diagrams based on the data. I played with different slideshow display effects trying to achieve a modern yet conservative impact. After I finished, I went in to talk to him and see if he needed anything else.

Matt had been in meetings on Capitol Hill all morning, meaning we hadn’t had a chance to talk since my early departure the previous day. He asked me how I was holding up and how my visit to the police station had gone. I gave him an abbreviated recap of my conversation with Detective Saks, including the fact that Hilary’s death had been ruled a homicide. Matt, too, was at a loss for any reason for someone to kill Hilary.

I told Matt that I had emailed the conference presentation to him, and asked if he had anything else for me to do.

“Not yet. I’ll go over the presentation and let you know if any changes are required. In the meantime I was wondering if you’d be interested in helping Dr. Stickler, on a temporary basis.”

“Help him how? He has Carol.” In her late-50s, Carol was one of the DIPPeR’s most senior secretaries.

Matt continued, “I spoke to him yesterday after you left. Hilary had almost completed the project she was working on. She had collected the data and compiled most of it. Dr. Stickler needs someone to summarize the info, generate graphs, charts… Beyond Carol’s more traditional skill set. I told him you could probably handle it.”

“I’d be happy to try. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Great, I’ll let him know you are willing and able, and considering your light workload right now, available. Meanwhile, take it easy.”

As I was leaving Matt’s office, Detective Saks was making his way toward Dr. Stickler’s office. Detective Saks looked good. He was wearing a black suit with a pale green shirt, and a green and yellow striped tie. I glanced down and almost laughed aloud. It was one of those things most people wouldn’t notice. Of all my friends, only Hilary would’ve understood my amusement. A sobering thought.

Before resuming my efforts to master that next level in Candy Crush Saga, I checked my phone and computer for messages. A new one had arrived from Kaye – “Please meet with Detective Saks at 12:30, Greenbrier.”

I set the alarm on my phone to 12:25, and killed time surfing the net for updates on Hilary’s murder. I googled “Hilary Sterling” to see what info might be out there. Most of the hits were to pictures on Facebook, and to the DIPPeR website and employee directory. Or to other persons with the same name. I didn’t find any recent articles that mentioned her by name.

Time flew and before I knew it, the alarm chimed. I quickly closed the web browser and set off for the meeting. The door to the Greenbrier meeting room was open. Detective Saks was sitting alone, poring over a file of papers. He looked up and smiled. “Good afternoon, Ms. Donati. Please be seated. How are you today?”

Without waiting for me to answer, he continued, “I have been speaking with a few of Hilary’s colleagues, and I have a few more questions for you.”

“OK. What would you like to know?”

“In our previous conversations, we discussed Hilary’s relationship with Duncan Fletcher. It has since come to my attention that you, too, dated Mr. Fletcher. What precisely was or is the nature of your relationship with him?”

I squirmed in my seat. “Duncan and I dated for a couple of months right after I started working here. Almost two years ago. After it ended, we remained friends.”

“How did you feel about his relationship with Hilary?”

“It was awkward, for me anyway, when he first started seeing Hilary, but nothing I couldn’t handle. By then I was over him… and Hilary was smitten. I was mostly afraid that she was going to get hurt.”

That hadn’t come out right. Before the detective could react, I explained, “I mean, hurt – as in feelings; not as in murder. You see, Duncan has a well-earned rep as a player. He has dated lots of women here at the DIPPeR. When Duncan turns on the charm, he’s hard to resist. The problem is he tends to have a pretty short attention span, especially if a new prospect presents itself. I was pleasantly surprised that he and Hilary were together so long.”

“I see.” Changing the subject, the detective asked, “Ms. Donati, you mentioned yesterday that Hilary took a lot of photographs. Only buildings and monuments, or people too?”

“Sure. Sometimes.”

“Did she post her pictures on social media?”

“Mmm… Sometimes, she’d post a particularly good picture to her friends or special groups on social networks. She uploaded most of her pics to cloud storage for backup.”

“Do you know who else had access to her pictures?”

“Well, on cloud storage, you can share files or folders with anyone you want. She shared some of her folders with me, for example, when we went on photography outings together. I suppose it’s possible that she shared folders with other people, too – I don’t know for sure.”

I waited for the detective to frame his next question. In the ensuing silence, my stomach decided to remind me that I hadn’t eaten since my cookies and coke breakfast. Judging by the detective’s failed attempt to stifle that dazzling smile, he heard it too.

Detective Saks looked at his watch. “This seems like a good time to take a break. Have you eaten yet? Care to join me for a quick bite?”

Tongue-tied, all I managed to say was, “Sure.”

He motioned to the door, “After you, Ms. Donati.”

“Actually, I prefer to be called Adina. Thank you.”

“OK, Adina. We can dispense with the formalities, at least over lunch. Feel free to call me Jonathan.”

We chatted as we walked to the sandwich shop on the corner.

“Adina Donati – that’s an unusual name. Italian?”

“Sort of. My father’s side of the family originated in Italy. The name Adina has roots in several languages, not all that uncommon in Italian or Spanish names. My mom liked it because it means ‘gentle’ or ‘delicate’ in Hebrew, and she wanted me to have a Hebrew name.”

Jonathan looked puzzled, so I added, “Mom is Jewish, Dad is Italian-American.”

“Ahh. Do you speak Hebrew, or Italian for that matter?”

“Both – as well as French and Spanish…” I wanted to kick myself. Why did I say that? I hate when people boast. So not the impression I wanted to make. Hoping to tone it down, I added, “I really like learning languages.”

“That’s impressive. I can claim competency in only one language – English. I studied Hebrew for my Bar Mitzvah. But I can’t speak a word.”

Nice Jewish boy. Not a big surprise, considering his name. My mother would approve.

When it was my turn in line, I ordered and paid for a sandwich and a Diet Coke. He got his food, and we took our trays to a small table.

“So, Adina, what brought you to D.C.?”

Two ways to answer this question. Long version or short version. I went with the latter. “I came to D.C. for its international flavor. I had hoped to find a job where I could use my language skills. Turns out there are lots of multi-lingual people here. And not so many jobs. My job at the DIPPeR isn’t what I was hoping for, but it does pay the bills.”

“How about you, why D.C.? Not enough crime in New York?” My lame attempt at levity elicited a stifled smile.

“After college, I spent six years at NYPD. After making detective, I got word of an opening in D.C. on the homicide squad. I plan to get an MA in Criminology, and Georgetown has a great program. So it was an easy choice. Work in D.C. and study part-time.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Almost three months. Still getting my footing, so to speak,” he replied.

“It’s a cool city for the most part, especially for young people. There are lots of interesting people, museums, and pubs. Plenty to do, if you have the time to do it.”

“For sure, but it takes time to get used to all the politicking.”

“You can say that again. And the politics swing in different directions after any election. Never a dull moment.”

Jonathan and I went on to discuss the local attractions. It was hard to believe that he hadn’t explored any of the Smithsonian museums yet. Operating in chatterbox mode, I couldn’t help recommending some of my favorite exhibits for him to visit when he had the time.

When we had finished our lunches we headed back to the DIPPeR. He had no sooner said, “It was nice talking to you, Adina,” and his police persona took over. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might help us find out what happened to Hilary.”

“Of course. Anything I can do to help.”

We parted ways, and he walked off toward the conference room.

Back at my desk, I wondered how Duncan was doing. He hadn’t come into the office so I texted him to see if he felt like talking. He didn’t respond to my message.

Seeing that Matt had sent feedback on the presentation, I set to work on the necessary revisions and additions. I had just emailed the updated file to Matt when Michelle and Amber stopped by my desk to invite me to join them and a few other colleagues for happy hour at Smith’s Bar and Grill. Not an offer I’d usually refuse, but I wasn’t in the mood. Instead, I clocked out and headed home.

One of the main drawbacks of my basement apartment is the lack of laundry facilities. I envy the folks who live in the nice apartment buildings with washers and dryers in the basement. There’s only so much hand-wash I’m willing to do. At least once a month I schlep by bus to a coin-operated Laundromat. This Saturday was laundry day.

As I was on my way out with my laundry crammed into two super-size shopping bags, Daniel stepped out and offered to drop me off on his way downtown. My hero.

Daniel asked how I was doing and whether the police had figured out what had happened yet.

“The detective interviewed lots of people at the DIPPeR yesterday. He spoke to me again, and asked a few more questions.”

“What kind of questions this time?”

“Mostly about Hilary and Duncan, and Hilary’s photography. Then he suggested we eat lunch together. It caught me by surprise, but I agreed. Not sure what to make of it.”

“That is odd. It might have been motivated by different things – depending on whether he views you as a suspect, source of info, potential romantic interest – or a combination thereof.”

“I think he mostly sees me as a source of info. He was asking me about Hilary, and my stomach grumbled loud enough for him to hear. It was past lunchtime.”

Daniel laughed, “So he had to put you out of your misery.”

“We did have a pleasant chat about D.C. in general. He didn’t seem to be pumping me for information while we ate.”

“Sounds harmless, unless you’re interested in this guy,” he teased.

“The jury is still out on that question.”

“Keep me posted on any new and exciting developments.”

Daniel pulled up to the curb. I blew him a kiss and hopped out.

Even though the Laundromat was busy, I found a couple of empty washing machines in the back. Curled up on an uncomfortable chair with my e-reader, I must have read the same paragraph 10 times without absorbing a single word. I had almost given up when my smartphone chirped to let me know a message had arrived.

The message was from Duncan. “Got ur msg. Can u talk?”

I texted back, “Laundromat. Noisy.”

Another chirp. “OK. Maybe later.”

Now I felt guilty. He had reached out, and I wasn’t very supportive. Noisy or not, I’d have to call him.

As soon as he picked up, I apologized. “Duncan, how are you? I’m so sorry about Hilary. Of course, I’d really like to talk to you. Unfortunately, now isn’t a great time.”

“Thanks for calling. I’m a bit out of sorts. So much has happened. Listen, I don’t feel like talking on the phone. Can we get together and talk when you’re finished there?”

I checked my watch, “I should be home by noon. What do you suggest?”

I couldn’t see us talking in a crowded restaurant, and I definitely didn’t want to invite him to my apartment. In response to his silence, I continued, “What do you say I grab sandwiches at the shop on Wisconsin Avenue and we stake out a bench in River Road Park?”

Food and fresh air always sound good to me. River Road Park is a small neighborhood park with paths that wind between elegant shade trees, well-tended flower beds, and wrought iron benches. Duncan agreed, and we made plans to meet in the park at 1 p.m.

The washing machines beeped in rapid succession, and I transferred the contents to the dryers. An hour later, I packed up my clean dry clothes and headed home.

After changing into freshly laundered jeans and a t-shirt, I popped into the sandwich shop. When I reached the park, Duncan was seated on an empty bench under a stately sycamore tree. He stood up as soon as he saw me approach, a forlorn expression on his face. Even so, he had his usual yuppie look going – tan Chinos, topped by a blue Abercrombie & Fitch polo shirt. Close to 6 feet with sandy brown hair and a fine build, he could have stepped out of a fashion catalog.

We embraced briefly then sat down, tears threatening to erupt. At a rare loss for words, I busied myself with unpacking the food and drinks. Duncan took the sandwich I handed him, without showing any inclination to eat it.

The silence was unbearable. “Duncan, I’m so sorry… I know you cared for Hilary.”

“Adina, I know it might be hard for you to believe – I really loved her. I was planning to ask her to marry me.”

Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.

“The last time I went home, I asked my folks if I could give Hilary my grandmother’s engagement ring. I was going to propose to her on her birthday.”

“Duncan, I had no idea it was that serious. I do know that Hilary loved you.” To think that Hilary had died worrying that he wanted to break up with her. “When did you find out what happened?”

“While I was in Boston with Dr. Locke, Rick called.” Rick is one of Duncan’s pals in the office. “He left a message for me to call him ASAP. When I called him back, he told me he had heard the news and asked how I was doing. I had no idea what he was talking about. He assumed I already knew.”

“He’s braver than me – I thought of calling you, but I wasn’t sure if you were up to talking.” Translation: I had chickened out.

Duncan continued, “Anyway, I got a call later that day from the police requesting that I come in and talk to a detective.”

“Probably Detective Saks. I’ve already spoken to him several times.”

“Yup. That’s the one. I met with him late Thursday afternoon when we got back from Boston. He asked lots of questions, but he didn’t offer much by way of answers.”

Duncan turned to face me. “Adina, what happened? I got a text from Hilary that afternoon telling me you guys were heading out to McSweeney’s. It sounded like everything was fine.”

“I don’t know what happened, I wish I did. We went to McSweeney’s after work, same as we did on most Wednesdays. After we had been there a while, Hilary went to the restroom and never came back.” I decided against telling him that Hilary had suspected he was cheating on her. It would only compound his pain.

“The detective said she was found in the bathroom,” he prompted me to continue.

“When I went looking for her, she was already dead. I keep going over it in my mind. Maybe things would have been different if I had gone after her sooner…”

“Adina, you can’t blame yourself. You had no way of knowing what was going to happen. The detective said they don’t know why Hilary was killed. They aren’t even sure whether someone was after her or she was a random victim.”

“I realize that. Still, it doesn’t make it any easier to put out of my mind. I can’t imagine how you feel. It must be even harder for you, Duncan.”

“It’s as if someone pulled the rug out from under me. I’m angry, sad, and numb – all at the same time. I can’t seem to focus on anything other than Hilary and the life we might have shared.”

“She was a very special person. I’ll miss her.”

We had both been close to Hilary. We quickly found ourselves swapping stories about Hilary and her talents, quirks, and sense of humor.

“Remember, Adina, that Halloween party at Rick’s last year? When Hilary showed up wearing that pixie costume, I was hooked. I don’t think I’d even paid much attention to her before then. We started dating the week after that.”

I nodded. “She looked adorable, blue tutu skirt, wings and all.” As always, she had caught the attention of most of the guys at the party. I, on the other hand, had gone as the night sky. Easy costume, dressed all in black with stickers of silver stars in different sizes. Not exactly an attention getter.

Eventually, I asked, “Have you spoken to her parents?”

“Yes. Several times. Hilary’s father is arriving in D.C. later today. He plans to clear out her apartment and complete the paperwork to return her for burial in Wyoming.”

His voice got shakier as he continued, “The funeral is planned for Monday. I’m flying to Cheyenne tomorrow night. Taking off work until Wednesday, at least.”

Duncan stood up, then tossed our trash into a nearby bin. “Anyway, I better get going. I’m meeting Mr. Sterling at the police station at 5.”

“Duncan, let me know if I can help in any way.”

“Thanks, Adina. You, too.”

A quick hug and he was gone.              

I was on my way home when my phone chirped. Julie had sent me a message, asking if I had time to talk. I texted her back that I’d Skype her in around 15 minutes when I got home.

Although Skype is installed on my phone, conversing is easier (and clearer) on my laptop. I got home, poured myself a large glass of Diet Coke, and sat down at the desk to call her.

She answered on the first ring. “Hi, Adina. Sorry I couldn’t talk the other day. Our study group was having a marathon session to prepare for a test on Torts. How are you?”

“I’m OK. For the most part. A lot has been happening here.”

“I’m listening.”

“Julie, do you remember my friend Hilary from work?”

“Of course. She went with us to that Country Music festival. I still have the pictures from that day. The three of us outfitted in jeans, plaid shirts, and those ridiculous hats.” She laughed.

“Well, she was killed Wednesday night when we went for happy hour at McSweeney’s.”

“What? Are you serious? Are you OK?”

“I’m OK. Physically, anyway. More than a bit rattled though.”

“What happened?”

“Hilary went to the restroom and when she didn’t come back, I went looking for her. I found her dead on the floor of a bathroom stall.”

“Oh, Adina, how terrible. Do the police know who did it?”

“If they do, they aren’t saying.” I told Julie what little I knew about the investigation and that Duncan had been planning to propose to Hilary.

“Poor Duncan. That's rough.” Julie hesitated before adding, “I guess that means Duncan will be back on the market soon. Do you still have a soft spot for him?”

“No, Julie. I really don’t. While we were talking about Hilary, I realized that I’m no longer romantically interested in him. Surprisingly enough, the attraction isn’t there anymore.”

“That’s probably for the best, but it has been a long time since your fling with Keith. You need to get out more. Have you met any interesting men lately?”

“Well, the homicide detective seems nice. I’ve spoken to him several times, and we had lunch together on Friday. He was between interviews at the DIPPeR. He has been interrogating everyone. Friendly enough, though I’m not sensing any special interest.”

“If he’s in the middle of an investigation, he shouldn’t be flirting anyway.”

“I suppose that’s true. I thought I sensed mutual interest at one point, and I even found myself warming to the idea. Maybe just because it’s been so long since I’ve had a man in my life.”

“How about you? Any tall, dark, and handsome law students in your life?”

Julie laughed, “I wish. The workload is so intense that there’s no time to contemplate dating, or even hook-ups for that matter.”

“Then you must be busy.” One-night stands have never been my style. Julie, on the other hand, wasn’t averse to the idea when opportunity presented itself. More than once I had taken a cab home alone after a night out with Julie because she went home with a guy she had just met.

“I wish I had more time to talk but I have to get back to studying. Let’s try and catch up again in a few days.”

“It was great talking to you. Take care.”