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“I hear you. It’s likely a rabbit hole, but I’ll check it out anyway.”
She shook her head. “You’ve got a better chance of playing the lottery.”
“But you still scratch the ticket, don’t you?”
She muttered a curse. “The first lie out of that con’s mouth, you need to walk away, John.”
“Great minds think alike.”
INTERVIEW FILE #8
EYEWITNESS TESTIMONY
The worst evidence is eyewitness testimony. Many people believe the human brain functions like a recorder. However, psychologists have proven it’s simply not true. We humans, in fact, recreate rather than play back recollections. We piece together the puzzle of the past with fragmented facts, stresses, biases, hopes, and emotions. The Innocence Project researchers reported that of the convictions overturned through DNA testing, over 70 percent had been based on eyewitness testimony. We want to remember, but most of us suck at it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Friday, March 16, 2018; 7:45 p.m.
When Adler reached his desk, he discovered a large dusty binder. A quick look at the spine and he saw the label: MASON, GINA, AUGUST 15, 2004.
His office was in a small cubicle, offering him the illusion of privacy. Fluorescent lights hummed above his head and mingled with the buzz of conversations. There were a half-dozen detectives busy chasing leads. Others were on their computers tackling the everyday paperwork that cops had to slug through. How many nights had he wished to hell he could get away from this place when a homicide investigation ground on for days at a stretch?
Now after the bombing, he was so damn glad to be back.
He shrugged off his coat and draped it over his seat. Slowly he rolled up his sleeves and sat at his computer. He unwrapped a cold vending machine sandwich and took his first bite as he flipped the book open to Gina’s high school portrait, the same one Kaitlin had used for her presentation. Dark hair swept over a round face glowing with a summer tan. White pearls circled her neck. She was beaming with youth and excitement. Alive.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “I feel old.”
He flipped through more pages and came upon a DVD. It read DETECTIVE JOSHUA NORTH INTERVIEWING KAITLIN ROE, OCTOBER 4, 2004. He popped it in his computer and took another bite of his meal.
Kaitlin appeared, leaning back in a metal chair, her elbow resting on its arm. Her chin was raised, giving her a stoic expression. Detective North entered the room and dropped a file on the metal table. She flinched slightly, but recovered her composure.
“You know what I think, Kaitlin,” he said. “I think you’re a liar. A really good one at that.”
Adler checked the date. October 4, 2004. A little over two months into the investigation.
Kaitlin folded her arms over her chest. “Aren’t I supposed to have a lawyer?”
“You aren’t detained. You can leave anytime.”
“Really?” She rose. “Then I’ll leave.”
“I thought we were having a friendly conversation here.”
She faced him. “You released my name to the press. I can’t go into a McDonald’s without someone asking what I did to Gina.”
“We’ve tried to play nice with you, but you’ve not been cooperative.”
“He was wearing a mask!”
Despite her bravado, she was young and dealing with a seasoned homicide detective. North knew exactly how to push her buttons.
“Tell me what you do remember,” North said.
“I already have.”
“One more time. I’m getting old, and I don’t remember so well.”
Her eyes narrowed. “We were by the river.”
“You, Gina, Erika, and Jennifer.”
“That’s right.”
“Why were you there?”
“It was a celebration. The other girls were leaving for college soon.” Her fists clenched.
“And you girls were drinking.”
“Yes.”
“We never found the bottle.”
She didn’t answer.
“Kaitlin, at this stage underage drinking is the least of your worries.”
“I threw it in the river. It floated away.”
“Did you spike it with Ecstasy?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? I have your arrest records from Texas. You got yourself into some trouble, little lady. You strike me as someone who can get ahold of almost any substance.”
“I didn’t spike the bottle.”
North opened his file and seemed to read something. “You said you and Gina were walking to her house. That the other girls had left you.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
She pressed her fingers to her forehead. “I was having trouble walking. I was drunk and kept tripping on my flip-flops. Gina got too far ahead of me, and I lost sight of her in the dark. That’s when I thought I sensed something wrong. I ran ahead and was right. I saw him standing next to Gina.”
“Who?”
“The man with the clown mask holding a knife to Gina’s neck.”
“What did he say to you?”
She closed her eyes. “He cut off her ear, and then he told me to run.”
“And you ran?”
Her answer wasn’t audible, and North asked her to repeat it.
“I must have turned and run.”
“How did her blood get on your T-shirt?”
“I don’t remember.”
If Adler had not been watching closely, he’d have missed Kaitlin’s hesitation. Was it guilt? Pain? Anger? A lie?
“I know you’re lying, Kaitlin. I think you spiked the drink with narcotics. Maybe you wanted everyone to have a real good time. Maybe you wanted to mess with them. And you did. But the fun and games ended when something happened to Gina. Did she overdose?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “It wasn’t like that!”
“Okay, Gina didn’t overdose. But someone found you girls, and that cocktail is the reason all of you were so incapacitated and could barely walk, let alone defend yourselves. I’m amazed you all didn’t drown in the river.”
She didn’t speak.
North was silent for a moment. “You know what I think?”
“I can’t wait.”
North smiled. “I think you and Hayward were working together. I think he told you to spike the lemonade so Gina and the other girls would be too messed up to resist anything he wanted to try. Hell, you’re twisted.”
“No!”
“He broke up with you, but you still loved him. I bet you’d have done anything to get with him.”
Kaitlin shook her head. “I didn’t hurt Gina.”
“Sweetie, you drugged her. Made her defenseless. Hell of a friend you are.”
Kaitlin’s expression crumpled as if she’d been slapped across the face. “I didn’t do it.”
“You’re complicit. Now all I have to do is prove it. And I will. Why don’t you save us both a lot of time and tell me. If you had a conscience, you’d feel better, too.”
Kaitlin rose. “I’m leaving.”
“I’m just clowning around,” he smirked.
“Go fuck yourself.”
Adler rewound the DVD and froze it on the last expression the camera caught of her face. Raw pain was carved in the lines around her eyes and mouth. But he’d seen murderers feel deep remorse. It was possible to love someone, kill them in a moment of rage, and then mourn their loss.
And now Kaitlin was back in Richmond hooking up with her old boyfriend. It had come full circle, and Hayward was right in the middle of it.
INTERVIEW FILE #9
THE GIRLS OF SUMMER—JENNIFER RALSTON
Thursday, February 22, 2018; 7:00 p.m.
