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“These photos: you on the bed, you and her. Where were they taken?”
“In her condo.” But Will already recognized the surroundings. At least that wasn’t a lie.
“It must have really pissed you off when she dismissed you.”
“It hurt,” he said. “I didn’t understand.”
“Did you know she saw other men?”
“No.” He sounded surprised.
“You sure? She broke up with you, she was two-timing you. That would make any man really angry. Mad enough to take revenge.”
“No! Never!”
“Mad enough to kill her.”
“I didn’t kill her!” Now the tears were coming down and his hands were helpless to wipe them away.
She let him stew for several minutes. Will had a sudden sense of disorientation. For a moment, from the back with her fair hair, Henderson looked like the avenging ghost of Kristen Gruber. The ghost pointed and spoke: “How about these pictures here?”
“We went bike riding.”
“Where?”
“The trail out in Loveland, that used to be train tracks.”
Will whispered, “Goddamn.”
“It’s a nice place,” Henderson said. “Do you go there often?”
“A few times.”
“Have you been there this spring?”
He nodded.
“Speak up, John.”
“Yes,” he said. “I was out there a few weeks ago.”
“With some friends?”
“Alone.”
Henderson flipped through her portfolio and put a photo of Lauren Benish in front of him.
“Did you see her?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. She’s pretty. I would have noticed.”
“I bet you would have. I bet you did. She was also murdered last weekend.”
John’s face lost all its color.
