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Ripley jumped in, “You think a dead girl is funny?”
Eric leaned back and held his hands up in mock surrender. “Look, I’ll be straight with you guys. Cheryl was kind of a bitch, alright?”
Ella watched the man’s body language like a hawk. There was a little defensiveness in his mannerisms, but his tone of voice sounded genuine. It was a tough call at the moment.
“How so?” she asked.
“A real tease. She loved the attention. Put it that way.”
“Is that why she blocked you on social media?”
Eric stood up and walked over to the other side of the room. He stared at his reflection in the mirror but directed his words at the agents. Ella expected she’d be chasing a fleeing suspect any second now.
“I tried my luck with Cheryl. I read the signs and I read them wrong. I put my hands on her and she pushed me away. After that I never bothered her again.”
Ella had heard guys say similar things in the past and more often than not they downplayed the severity of what hands meant. “Did you sexually assault her?”
“No, no, no. I tried to kiss her. We went on a date a few weeks ago. I thought she wanted it. Turns out she didn’t. The end.”
The agents exchanged a look of concern. Ripley didn’t look convinced. Ella was also of two minds.
“And she cut off contact with you because of that?” Ripley asked. “Seems to me like there’s something missing here.”
Eric turned back to the agents. “Alright, so I pestered her a little. I asked her to give me another chance. She didn’t want to.”
Now things were beginning to make sense.
“So you went out with this girl, then you had an altercation, now she shows up dead. That doesn’t bother you?”
“I told you I’m gonna put it all out there. Cheryl was asking for something bad to happen to her. She acted all flirty with me then shot me down as soon as I acted on it. I thought she was interested, and a guy like me doesn’t get much interest. You know? What happens when she does that with a guy with anger issues?”
“Where were you on Thursday night?” asked Ripley.
Eric checked his smart watch, tapping the screen a couple of times. “Here. Alone.”
“I guess no one can confirm that?”
“No. Sorry.”
“You live here alone?” Ella asked.
“Yeah. My mom passed away a few years ago and left it to me.”
“You work?” Ripley asked.
“No. I used to do some machine work in a factory down in Riverside. But I quit. I’m not a worker.”
Ella guessed that Eric’s mom left him enough to sustain himself too. This property was easily worth seven figures.
“Eliza Matthews. That name mean anything to you?” she asked.
“Yes. She’s my friend.”
Ella wasn’t unearthing much intel from Eric’s body language, so she needed to go old school. The original and best method for detecting if someone might be involved in a murder. It was a classic for good reason.
“Your friend? Did you see her often?”
“We talk all the time. Probably meet up about once a month.”
