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“Not married, but I’ve got an eight-pound calico cat.”
“Well, that’s a start. So to what do I owe this call? Don’t tell me there’s finally been a break in the case?”
“No, not a break. But there’ve been a few... uh, developmentsrelated to the weekend Chloe died, and I was wondering if I could run something by you. Of course, I don’t expect you to remember much after all this time.”
“You might be surprised. Because I’ve always been haunted about what happened.”
“Have you, Dan?” I say, so touched by his words. “Thank you for saying that. Okay, so here goes. Remember the older guys at the party, the ones who’d apparently heard about it from Jamie and Rob’s cousin?”
“Oh yeah,” he says quickly. “The party crashers.”
“Most of them seemed to be in their late twenties or early thirties. But do you remember a guy who was even older than that? Around thirty-seven or so?”
“Uh, no, sorry,” he says after a few moments’ thought. “Not anyone who struck me as that old.”
“You’re sure?” I say, deflated. “He would have been really polished looking. A business executive.”
“If he was in the mix, I don’t recall him. Frankly, most of the older guys with that WASPY, preppy look blurred together. I do remember Rob was furious about them showing up and spoiling the whole vibe.”
“I know. And the party felt sooffafter they arrived. Did you ever learn anything about them?”
“Just that they worked at the same bank or brokerage company as the cousin. I assume the police interviewed them, right?”
“They interviewed everyone they could, but they were concerned a few guys might have slipped through the cracks.”
He sighs. “And I remember that there were so few photos for the cops to work with—because Jamie had threatened to throw people out if she saw them taking pictures.”
“Yeah, she was afraid people would post them and her parents would find out about the party.”
“Well, they certainly found out in the end.... Could you talk to the police about that guy? See if it fits with the description of anyone your sister was seen talking to that night?”
“I don’t think I have enough reason to at this point. And what would it prove, anyway? She was talking to plenty of guys that night.”
“Did they ever find out whose sweater she had around her waist?”
“No, but since she was wearing it when you saw her take the wine, the police assumed the sweater belonged to the guy she went into the woods with. They never found it—or her blouse, either.”
Dan is quiet for a couple of moments, perhaps searching his memory or letting the past catch up with him.
“There was always something about the sweater and the wine that seemed weird to me,” he says finally. “I mentioned it to the cops when they first interviewed me, but I don’t know if they paid any attention.”
“Weird how?” I say, feeling goose bumps shoot up along my forearms.
“The way she grabbed the wine on her own like that. I kept wondering if the guy she was hanging with was trying to keep a low profile.”
“I’m still not following.”
“Okay, it seems pretty clear to us she was going out to share the wine with a guy, but why didn’t anyone ever see the two of them together? And why didn’t he come into the kitchen with her? Maybe he sent her inside to get it on her own because he didn’t want to be spotted in her company.”
My stomach twists. “You mean that he was already planning to hurt her?”
“No, not that, though I guess that’s possible, too. I wondered if he didn’t want anyone to notice them together because he had agirlfriend who hadn’t come to the party, and he didn’t want word getting back to her.”
A girlfriend is a possibility. As is awife.
“Yes, I see what you’re saying. You’ve given me something to think about, Dan. Thank you.”
“I’d love to see you again. Do you ever get to Boston?”
