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“I didn’t have a relationship with her. We had sex.” He studies us just as intently in return. “She was a nice girl. Innocent, but in the best way.”
“How so?” Fletch asks. “What do you mean?”
“She wasn’t jaded and bitter. She wasn’t mean. She seemed really kinda free-spirited and sweet.” He looks back to me. “I saw her face on the news just a little bit ago. Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Melissa Boyd was found dead in City Park last night.” As we always do, Fletch tears the band-aid off and probes the guy for his reaction. “Like my partner said, we’re from the homicide division.”
“Homicide means someone killed her.” His lips grow thinner. His jaw, harder. “Someone hurt her?”
“Yes, they did,” I confirm. “Then they dumped her in City Park. Were you aware Ms. Boyd was carrying a baby, Stan?”
He swallows so his Adam’s apple bobs. “Yes. I…” He nods. “I was aware.”
“Your child?”
He nods again and sniffs. “Yes. I believe the child is mine. Is she… uh… the baby. Did it die too?”
“We have reason to believe Melissa’s killer removed the infant.”
“He cut it from her?” He surges up and places his fists on the table. “Someone cut her open?”
Fletch shakes his head. “She was not cut. Which leads us to conclude Melissa went into labor and delivered the baby shortly before, or upon, death. We have teams scouring the local area, but so far, no baby has been located.”
“I’ll help you find it.” Taking out his phone, Stan unlocks the screen and searches for a contact. “I’ll have all my boys help search.”
“Wait.” Leaning across the table, I gently place my hand on the phone and drag it down until his eyes meet mine. “Don’t call anyone yet.”
Slowly sitting back, I wait for him to get his breathing under control. For him to gentle the way his temper begs to be set free. “Talk to us about your time with Melissa first. Tell us everything you know. We’ve been informed by more than a couple of people that you did not want a baby. You weren’t gonna stick around for it.”
His gaze flickers from me to Fletch. “You think I hurt her?”
“We’re trying to construct a puzzle,” Fletch answers instead. “We have some of the pieces, but we’re missing a bunch. So tell us what you know, and we’ll go from there.”
“I know I met her at a bar.” He spits the words out with enough venom to poison a guy. “I know her smile was like the fucking sun. I know she didn’t have a single drink that night except for soda and lemon wedges, but even without it, she was bubbly and silly and fun. I know we danced for a bit, then we stumbled to a booth inside the club and made out for a while. Things were heating up between us, so we took it back to my apartment and did what we did.”
“What about the next day?” I ask. “The next morning?”
“She didn’t drink, so there was no hangover. We woke up together around eight, I guess. She was a little shy, a little awkward, but she was still sweet. And I…” He chuckles and sits back. “I’m not the most sensitive guy on the planet, so I told her she rocked my world, but that I had to get moving along.”
“Where were you going?”
“Work,” he answers easily. “Turns out she had to work too, so it was all pretty standard. She asked for a hug goodbye. I said sure. She seemed really fucking naïve to the world of one-night stands, and I guess I was a bleeding soul, which means I worried about her a little bit. I gave her my number and told her not to call me unless it was a genuine emergency. I told her she’d get oneget out of jail freecard before I’d figure she was attention-seeking and dumb.”
“Did she ever make that call?” Fletch asks. “Did she ever reach out?”
“Twice,” he confesses. “A month or so after we hooked up, she called and said she had to talk. Doesn’t take a genius to know what about.”
“You knew she was coming to say she was pregnant?”
He shrugs. “Like I said, she was sweet and naïve. She called at no other time, then she rings up and asks a man tobrunch? I knew what was happening.”
“And yet, you still went to meet her?”
“It was the right thing to do,” he murmurs. “I couldn’t just leave her to flap in the breeze.”
“Did you use protection?” I ask. “Had you taken precautions not to impregnate this young, innocent, naïve girl who clearly had less life experience than you?”
“Of course I used a rubber.” He says it like I’m stupid. “Fuck, man. It’s standard operating procedure. But everyone knows that shit isn’t a hundred percent. Whatever the fuck went wrong, it happened. So I stepped up and went to brunch.”
