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Chapter34
“YOU OKAY?”
It was the next morning and Mars was staring at Decker from across the table in the Residence Inn’s dining area.
“Fine, why?”
“Because when I woke up you were in the bathroom, sounding like you were throwing up.”
“Must’ve imagined it. My stomach was a little rocky, but that’s it.”
“I knocked on the door, don’t you remember that? Asking if you were okay?”
“Don’tyouremember? I told you I was good and then I guess you went to your room. But before that you’d fallen asleep on my bed. You were probably mentally out of it when you checked on me.”
Mars studied him for a moment but then shrugged. “You were up late. I ran out of gas.”
“I was going over stuff, trying to make sense of things that don’t seem to make sense.”
“Like what?”
Decker outlined for him what he had thought about last night.
“Okay, they probably died around eight-thirty. And the call comes in an hour later,” said Mars. “Well, I know from experience that an hour means a lot in a criminal investigation.”
“Actually, it’s an hour andfiveminutes, because the 911 call came in at nine-thirty-five. But the ME couldn’t nail the TOD to the minute, so it’s at least an hour discrepancy.”
“What exactly did the 911 call say?”
“That they heard suspicious noises from inside the Richardses’ house. People screaming and then a gunshot.”
“But that’s impossible. They weren’t killed at nine-thirty-five.”
“We don’t know if the person really heard a shot or something else. And we don’t know if they heard a shot that killed someone or just a shot.”
“Well, dead people don’t scream.”
“True, but who’s to say someone else wasn’t in the house screaming at that time and that’s what the caller heard?”
“Who would that person be?”
“I have no idea. I have no idea if such a person exists. But I do have a thought about something else.”
“What?”
“Abigail Richards was strangled, not shot. Why?”
“You mean why wasn’t she shot like the others because it was easier than strangling somebody?”
“Right.”
Mars thought about this for a few moments. “I give.”
“When you shoot someone, you don’t transfer your DNA to under their fingernails. When you strangle someone, that opportunity presents itself.”
“Wait a minute, are you saying somebody somehow got some of Hawkins’s DNA from his skin and placed that under the girl’s nails?”
“Yes.”
