We both decline.
“Is this about the break-in next door?”
Liv and I exchange a look. I say, “No, ma’am, we’re not here about the break-in.”
Some cops don’t like to do cold interviews unless absolutely necessary. Personally I’ve decided that folks are far more forthcoming with straight answers if they haven’t had time to prepare. No matterif they’re completely innocent, they’re only human, and most people worry about anything they say making them look guilty. It’s better not to give them the opportunity to overanalyze.
Reeves nods slowly, confusion beginning to show on her face.
“Ma’am,” Liv kicks off the interview, “we’re here about Carl Fanning.”
The CPA’s eyes flare. “I see.”
Her voice is cool, low, and her expression closes instantly.
“I’m sure you’re aware,” I explain, “he was released last month.”
She nods. “I was upset at first, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that he paid the debt the court required of him, fair or not.”
“He hasn’t contacted you or shown up at your home or business?” Liv asks.
Fear rounds the older woman’s eyes. “No. Has he done that to someone else? Another of his victims?”
“Not that we know of,” I assure her. “But there was an incident at his place of residence, and he’s missing. We’re worried that he may have someone else with him.”
“Sweet Jesus.” She presses a hand to her chest. “You people should never have let him off so easy with that damned plea deal! What the hell were you thinking? Now he may have hurt someone else?” She shakes her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Now for the hard part. Before I can ask, Liv does. “Ms. Reeves, can you tell us where you were between Saturday afternoon and Monday afternoon?”
Outrage rushes up her neck and spreads across her plump cheeks, leaving a swath of red. “Why on earth would you ask me such a question?” Her gaze narrows. “Are you accusing me of something?”
“We are not, Ms. Reeves,” I say firmly. “We are simply following up with all his victims to determine if he or anyone else involved with him has made any sort of contact with you, particularly over the weekend or on Monday of this week.”
The red drains from her face, and she visibly gathers her composure. “I have not seen or heard from him or anyone related to him. I would have called the police if I had. As for my whereabouts, Saturday night I went out to dinner with my wife. On Sunday I was at church until noon, and then we had lunch with my family. My parents can confirm we were there until around four. After that, we went home. I didn’t leave my apartment again until I came to work on Monday morning.”
“Can any of your neighbors confirm you were home?” Liv asks. “Maybe you walked your dogs?”
“My wife can confirm I was home. She was at home with me. And yes, we walked the dogs Sunday evening, just like we do every evening.”
I definitely didn’t find a marriage license, so I ask, “May we have your wife’s name and a way to contact her?”
“Of course.” Reeves jots down a name and number on the back of one of her business cards and passes it to me.
“Thank you, Ms. Reeves,” Liv says as she pushes up from her chair. “Please let us know if you hear from Fanning or anyone involved in any way with him.”
Liv passes the woman one of her business cards. She stares at it and nods.
We leave. The receptionist watches until we’re out the door.
Once we’re in the Tahoe, I start the engine and see the receptionist locking the door and turning the Open sign to Closed.
“I guess we ruined her afternoon.” Liv fastens her seat belt.
“Guess so.” I reach for the gearshift, and a coughing jag hits me. It takes me half a damned minute to get the hacking under control.
Liv passes me her water bottle. “Damn, Walt. You need to get that cough checked out.”
I down some water and grunt. My chest feels as if I just hawked up a lung. “Allergies,” I lie. I don’t know why. Maybe because I want to wait until I talk to the cardiologist before getting into it.
