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The Davis home looked quiet when they pulled up outside and Detective Sparks shored herself up for the confrontation ahead. Even as she rang the doorbell she was going over and over again in her head the words she was going to say.
“You again?” Niall greeted them at the door with a drink in hand, looking no better than he had that morning when they left. “Sorry to bother you Mr. Davis but something has come up and we need to ask you some questions.”
He stepped back to let them in, not too pleased by the interruption. He’d been sitting alone in the dark reminiscing about his wife and trying to come to terms with all that had happened. Only one day and night had passed and already it felt like he’d lived a lifetime in this new hell.
Riley had dropped by earlier after leaving the gallery and sat with him for a while. Almost as if he sensed his friend was just hanging on by a thread, he’d said all the right things, reminding him of the children and the fact that they needed him even more now that their mother was gone.
He hadn’t pushed, hadn’t speculated or asked any uncomfortable questions like most people have done since he turned his phone back on and started accepting calls. He’d just been there as a friend and confidant, someone to lend an ear.
It was times like this he was glad for their friendship. Though there was a slight age difference between the two of them, the younger man was never short of well-intended and much needed advice when it counted.
He remembered well how the other man had been there for him when he was going through his midlife crisis not too long ago. How he’d done his best to keep his friend on the straight and narrow. Even more how he’d been there for his family, helping his wife with the children when he Niall was hardly of any use to them.
Now he turned to face the cops who’d just walked into his house for the second time that day.
“What is it that you want to know? I’m still not letting you go through my wife’s belongings, still not letting you disrupt any more of our lives. And while we’re on the subject, I don’t think I like where your investigation is going...”
He was beginning to get on her nerves. She was no longer sure if he was victim or suspect but if he continued to get in her way she was going to have to put aside any compassion she may feel because of his loss. So she cut him off mid-sentence.
“This is a murder investigation sir, not some TV show that you can turn on and off at will. And you calling the mayor and asking him to make us back off isn’t exactly making you look good. We’re trying to find the person who did this and your cooperation would be greatly appreciated but we don’t need you. I can get a warrant to go through your wife’s belongings which is entirely within my rights as the leading investigator on this case and not you or the mayor can stop me.”
Her sharp tone brought him up short and he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. She’d taken the gloves off; he could see it in her eyes. But how could he get her to understand that he wasn’t trying to be difficult, that he was just trying to hang onto every little bit of his wife that he could.
He had no doubt that some things would fade with time, like her scent that was still left in the clothes she’d worn for the last time before leaving the house and on the pillow next to his. He couldn’t bear to lose those things, that last connection, not now.
“Maybe this was done by a stranger, someone who saw her and…”
“This doesn’t feel like a stranger sir. Tell me this, would your wife go into the woods to meet someone she didn’t know?”
“Of course not… at least I don’t think so.” He deflated as if someone had leaked all of the air out of him and dropped down on the nearest chair. Each time he spoke to them it became more real. He was trying to escape the reality of his wife being gone, but each time the phone rang or there was a knock at the door he was once again reminded of the horror that his life had become.
“Someone lured your wife into the woods and killed her. They had it all set up, the clown, the trip wire.” She cut herself off there because she hadn’t told him yet about the acid and what had been done to his wife’s face.
“Now the reason we’re here is because of some new information that has come up and we need to ask you some questions.”
“And what’s that, what’s this new information?” She pulled her notebook from her pocket even though she knew what she wanted to ask.
“You were seen leaving the old barn on Miller road a few days ago….”
“What, what’re you talking about? What would I be doing out there?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out. It’s believed you were seen heading there minutes after your wife was seen heading in the same direction.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t been anywhere near that place since I was a kid and my friends and I used to go sneaking around out there.” She made some notes and tried to remember that the widow had said the windows on the car had been tinted so he could be telling the truth. But the feeling of going around in circles was beginning to get to her.
“From the description of the vehicle it sounds a lot like yours.”
“Well you’d better look again detective because it wasn’t me.”
“About the passcode to your wife’s phone…”
“I’ve already given you the only one I know. We both have been using it for years. If she changed it, it have to have been in the last couple of weeks or so. And no, I have no idea why she would’ve done that, but I already know what you think.”
“I don’t think anything sir, I’m just trying to do my job.”
“And I appreciate that, but you have to appreciate the fact that I’ve just lost my wife, my children no longer have a mother so you’ll excuse me if I’m in no rush to help you muddy her name with your asinine assumptions. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll like to get back to my evening.”
Bridgette had heard it all and was now wondering as she heard the door close behind the cops if she could use this to her advantage. Would it seem too forward of her if she went down now like she’d planned to, or should she put it off until tomorrow?
