“Both. He was a bit full of himself, a bit above everyone else, but my mother always says that you are only as good as the people you believe you’re as good as. I wanted to be as good as him.”
And what would she do if she were rejected by him? I think. She might not be strong enough to shove blades in a man’s chest, but no one says she had to kill alone. “What time did you get to work last night?”
“Six.” Her hands go to her chest. “Oh God, you think it was me?”
“I’m asking questions. I can’t rule you out without asking questions. Where were you before work?”
“At home. I always nap before work. Should I get an attorney?”
The urge to get an attorney is a red flag. It means fear and guilt. Sometimes. Not all the time. “I am not in a position to advise you either way. I am going to want you to go to the station and give an official statement.” I pull a card and a pen from my bag, scribbling Rollins’ information on the back. “Call Detective Rollins. He’ll set it up.”
“I will. Right now.”
“Leave him a message. Answer when he calls. Who else should I talk to, Bonnie? Who do you know that Nathan knew, that I should know as well?”
“His father came in with him once. He looked just like him.”
“What is he like?”
“Good-looking. Confident. Like I said, a lot like his son.”
“Arrogant?”
“Oh yes. He was arrogant. Nathan didn’t talk to me when he was with his father.”
Because she was beneath him. I know the type, and well. “What else?”
“I can’t think of anything else.” Her tears are gone, almost as if they never existed.
“Do you watch horror movies, Bonnie?”
“No. I hate them. Why?”
“Just seems a bit like we are living in one right now, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yes,” she agrees. “I said that this morning to my mom.”
I wonder if that’s true. I wonder a lot of things about Bonnie. “Go to work. Call Detective Rollins.”
She nods and hesitates before standing. “I would never hurt anyone.”
I just look at her and I can almost hear her heartbeat bouncing off her chest cavity. She cuts her stare and looks away, grabbing her bag and her coffee, and rushing toward the door. Little, sweet Bonnie isn’t that sweet. I’ve seen her work a room. I’ve seen her work a room of men. She wasn’t the sweet, innocent girl that was begging for Nathan’s attention. There’s more to that story. I sip from my cup, to discover my coffee still isn’t right. Holy fuck, maybe the barista was joking when she said she loves my father. Maybe she actually hates my father and therefore hates me. Why else would she torture me with what I think is fucking green tea, of all things? This is not the UK and tea is not fucking coffee. I walk to the trash can, toss the tea, and wonder if Bonnie secretly hated Nathan.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jay is back inside, joining me at the dump site for my defunct coffee. “I thought we were going.”
I take his coffee cup from him. “What is this?”
“Vanilla latte. Why?”
I take a slug, the bittersweet coffee bean and vanilla mixture teasing my tongue, and spreading life through my body. “Thank you,” I say. “Order another on me. I can’t get anything but tea or mud water, otherwise known as a plain latte, in this place. I’ll be at the table.”
“Then we’re not leaving,” he says.
“Change of plans.” I walk to the table, sit down, and pull up the ME’s number. John answers on the first ring. “Special Agent Love,” he greets. “Or—I don’t know what to call you.”
“Anything but honey, sugar, or babe. Bitch is acceptable.” I sip the coffee and realize it’s almost gone, savoring what little is left, and ask, “When’s the autopsy?”
“I’m about to start it, and before you get angry, I just found out we have some sort of terrorist threat on the building. I was ordered to leave. I stayed to do this in case I couldn’t get back in anytime soon. The minute I’m done, I’ll email you the results.”
Of course, threats usually mean nothing. We get them here in the city all the time, but he’s earned my respect for being fearful and committed. “I finally have coffee, so all you’re getting from me is a thank you.” I leave out the part where I’ve probably had too much caffeine, which could have the reverse affect. “I’m texting you what we think are the three connected cases. I need you to do a comparison.”
“I can do that from home when I get out of here, and I will.”
“All right, John. Stay safe. Don’t do anything stupid, and don’t stay too long.”
“More soon,” he promises.
“Call me if you find something big.”