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“Was that the last time you saw her?” Dan inquired
Reynolds gaped at him. “You’re really gonna keep calling him ‘her’?”
“Yes,” Gary told him. “Because that was how she saw herself.”
Reynolds rolled his eyes. “Whatever. And no, it wasn’t the last time. Sawhimagain a few years later. I was working in Boston at the time, on the Fort Point Channel Tunnel. The boss called, asked my supervisor if me and two other guys could go to Lenox to build a pool house.”
Gary’s pen came to a halt. “The boss?”
“Yeah. Gianni DiFanetti. Lemme tell you, when he said jump, you didn’t even bother asking how fuckin’ high. You just did as you were told.”
“When was this?” Gary asked.
Reynolds stroked his stubble-covered chin. “Summer of ’92, July maybe. Yeah, that was it. Anyhow, the three of us went over there. Fucking hot, it was. I remember stripping off and diving into the pool to cool off, only this guy came over and hollered at me to get the hell out of there. Think he was the gardener or maintenance man, something like that. Fucking asshole. What did he think I was gonna do, piss in it?” He paused. “We were there for a week. And on the last day, I saw the freak in the gardens, walking with the guy who owned the place. Some senator, I think.”
Gary stared. “Senator Cain?”
“Yeah, that was him. Got a big place in the middle of acres of trees. Funky-looking house too.”
“Did you speak to Cheryl?” Dan asked.
“No.”
“As a matter of interest, where were you August twenty-eighth, 1992?” Gary’s tone was even.
Reynolds blinked. “Excuse me while I check my diary….” He gave another eye roll. “Like I can remember a date twenty-six years ago.” Then he narrowed his gaze. “Why that day?”
“That was the last time anyone saw her,” Gary informed him.
“So? So what?”
“Then she turned up in 2006, in plastic, when she dropped from the roof of the Fort Point Channel Tunnel.”
Reynolds’s jaw dropped. “That was the freak?”
If it was an act, Dan was impressed.
“Uh-huh. Andyouwere working on that tunnel when she disappeared.” Gary didn’t break eye contact.
Reynolds’s eyes were huge. “Wait a sec. You thinkIkilled him? Sure, I beat the crap out of him, butmurder?”
“Plus you have a history of violence against women,” Gary added.
“He wasn’t a fucking woman!” Reynolds snarled.
Dan couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Your antitrans views are well documented. I’ve seen your posts on social media. Maybe the beating you gave her wasn’t enough. You saw her that day, and that brought it all back, the resentment, the anger. Maybe you thought you’d find her again and finish the job. And don’t tell me it was a long time ago. I can still hear the anger in your voice when you talk about her. Did she offend your masculinity or something?”
“I don’t have to answer that. In fact, I don’t even have to talk to you, unless you’re arresting me.AmI under arrest?”
“No, you’re just under suspicion,” Gary said in a mild voice. Dan had never seen him so cool. “We’ll be looking into it.”
“Fine, you do that. So will I. You’ve got no way of proving I was anywhere near that tunnel, outside of work. And there’s no need for a return visit, because you’re not gonna find anything. I might not recall where I was on that date, but I know for sure I didn’t killher, okay?” Reynolds’s eyes bulged, his face red, the cords of his neck standing proud. “Are we done?”
“For now.” Gary opened the office door and went out into the lobby, Dan following. They crossed the marble-tiled floor, heading for the entrance.
“So he beats them up but doesn’t go as far as killing them? As if assault is okay, but murder is somehow incomprehensible?”
“He’s not off the hook yet.” Gary’s voice was low. “His job puts him at the scene. He saw Cheryl in July 1992. What if you nailed it? What if he went back to Lenox, looking for her—and found her? What’s to stop him killing her and driving the body to Boston, then stowing it in the space above the concrete ceiling tiles? He’d have access.”
