“To you directly?”
“Yes,” he said. “I’m just leaving the hospital. I’m hoping she remembers more after she’s had some rest. Security can’t seem to get any good footage from the CCTV at Gonzo. Cameras were down all morning. Some computer fritz.”
“How about the elevators?”
“Nothing yet, and it’s a pretty narrow window of time,” he said.
“Maybe he took the stairs.”
“Very funny,” he said.
“I try.”
“Oh, and FYI, we did talk to Elspeth Wasserman. She gave us a statement about finding Sky.”
“Did she tell you about Dylan’s calls?”
“After we dragged it out of her,” he said.
“Yeah, he warned her not to tell the cops.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter much.”
“Why not?”
“Her phone was stolen.”
“Ugh.”
“Yep,” he said. “She called 911 from Sky’s office phone and didn’t notice it was missing till she was in the ER, so it could have happened at the party, or any time after she left it.”
“Big window of time.”
“Enormous.”
“Is she still at the hospital?”
“She was waiting to get discharged when I went to see Sky.”
I exhaled. “He told her not to say anything to the police,” I said. “He threatened her.” I pulled up to the traffic light, which had just changed from yellow to red. An acid-yellow Porsche swerved around me to run the light, nearly hitting me in the process. It took me a few seconds to catch my breath. I flipped off the driver. He reminded me of Dylan.
“Thank you for the info,” Lee was saying. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful, and I’m sure you’re right. That creep Welch is out there somewhere, and he’s been stalking that poor girl, trying to make her believe he’s something to be afraid of.”
I drove for a few moments, my pulse still racing from the near crash, thinking about what Lee just said. “It’s circumstantial,” I said, finally. “Even if Elspeth’s phone is recovered and you can hear the messages and see the texts, it doesn’t tieDylan to the murders in any meaningful way. He could have been lying. He could have been messing with Elspeth’s mind, some stupid Batman-villain fantasy playing out in his head. Anyone could have told him about Trevor’s shooting. He could have been high and delusional, pissed off because maybe Elspeth rejected him at Bottle Poppin’ Friday. He just wanted to scare her. Wouldn’t stand up in court. Blah, blah, blah.”
“Yes. All of that. Except what the fuck is Bottle Poppin’ Friday?”
I ignored the question. “On top of all that, Dylan’s still missing, so you can’t question him.”
“Right again,” he said. “So far, we have two shootings that appear to be connected—one murder, one attempted murder. We are running ballistic tests. But we have no DNA, no murder weapon, no eyewitnesses that we know of—and one surviving victim who remembers nothing. I hate to minimize anybody’s trauma, but, man, it would be good for us if Sky Farley recovered her memory.”
“I hear you,” I said.
“Maybe with time, she’ll find some clarity,” he said.
Or maybe she already has clarity but doesn’t want to point the finger at her best friend.I thought it but kept quiet. I took my next available right, heading back to where I came from. “I’m going to try and talk to her,” I told Lee. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything.”
“Thanks, Sunny.” Over the Bluetooth, I heard a beeping sound, a car door opening and closing. “I owe you one.”
