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“DNA evidence confirmed that it’s Derrick,” Ortega said once they were in the interrogation room.
Given how hostile Ikuta had been during the previous questioning, Chess expected him to start throwing accusations at her. But all he gave was a genuine, “I’m sorry. That must be very hard to hear.”
“It is.” Tears caught at the back of Chess’s throat, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak again. “You’re sure it’s Derrick?”
Ikuta nodded. “We’re sure.”
“But it’s just his hand, right?” Hoping against hope, Chess asked, “You haven’t found anything else, right?”
Both detectives nodded.
“Then he could still be alive,” Chess desperately offered. “Maybe he’s just missing a hand.”
“Maybe,” Ortega acknowledged, but her expression and tone lacked conviction.
As misery settled heavily in the pit of Chess’s stomach, tears began to fall from her eyes.
There was screeching as Ortega noisily pushed back her seat and stood. She moved to a table next to the door and plucked a couple of tissues from the tissue box in the middle, then came back.
“Here.” Ortega handed the tissues to Chess.
“Thanks.” Chess wiped away the tears.
Once she was composed, Ikuta started, “You said that the last time you saw Derrick was Last Friday, right?”
“Yes.” Chess sniffed. “After he stormed off, I didn’t see him again.”
“And where were you during the rest of that weekend?” Ortega asked. “What did you do?’
“I was with my family.” Chess thought over it for a second before reciting, “On Saturday, we stayed at home all morning, grabbed lunch, then went to play mini-golf. On Sunday, we just hang out at home, cleaning and stuff.”
“Do you have anyone who can prove that you were at home when you say you were?” Ikuta asked, “Anyone other than your family.”
“I don’t know.” Chess thought over it for a second then exclaimed, “Ah! Our complex has CCTV everywhere. Plus, our security always takes note of when we come in or leave. You can check with them.”
“We’ll do that,” Ortega said.
Chess wasn’t sure if that was a threat or just a statement, but she didn’t care. She had nothing to be worried about because she was telling the truth.
Picking up where Ortega had left, Ikuta asked, “You said that you and Derrick were friends?”
“We were.”
“That means you knew many of his secrets, right?”
“I thought I did,” Chess offered wanly. The whole sabotage debacle had taught her that she didn’t know Derrick quite as well as she thought.
“Okay, then,” Ikuta continued, “Do you know anything about him and Evie?”
“Evie?” Chess couldn’t hide her surprise. When she’d entered the interrogation room, she’d expected Mark to come up because he was the one Derrick was helping. But they were asking about Evie. “What’s Evie got to do with Derrick?”
Ortega and Ikuta traded glances before turning back to Chess. Ortega asked, “You know nothing about their relationship?”
“What relationship?” Chess’s eyebrows shot up so high they almost touched her hairline. “They had a relationship?”
Both detectives studied her for a long, silent minute as if judging her sincerity. Then Ikuta said, “Okay, let’s move on.”
“No, no, no.” Chess held up a hand as shock shuttled through her. “Let’s not move on. What kind of relationship did Derrick and Evie have?”
