“Now I think it’s a mistake. Because Simon Dobias didn’tknowLauren and Conrad were separated. He was fudging these text conversations and trying to seem authentic, but he went too far—he said something wrong, not knowing it was wrong.”
“That’s possible, maybe, but so is Lauren lying to her boyfriend. To Christian.”
“Why did Lauren have her phone on, on Halloween night?” Jane says. “After she dumped her lover, who we’re supposed to believe is Christian Newsome, she said she was leaving town and her phone would stay off. So why did she have it on?”
“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” says the chief.
“Why would Lauren need to keep her phone off at all other times, besides when they were texting?” she continues. “Once Conrad moved out, mid-September, that house was all hers. She didn’t need to hide her texts. And I know they were getting a divorce, but what did she care? There was a prenup, and almost all of Conrad’s money was in a trust she couldn’t reach, anyway. So why would she need to keep her phone off all the time? What was she afraid of?”
“Jane, I have no—”
“And for that matter, sir, why did Christian Newsome turn off his phone at all, ever?” She waves a hand. “He wasn’t married. There’s no record of a marriage, there’s no indication of the presence of a significant other in that condo—a live-in girlfriend, a wife, a boyfriend or husband, for that matter. That man was single. He had nobody to hide that phone from.”
The chief’s eyebrows rise. He puts out his hands. “And what is your theory, again?”
“I’m not sure of anything yet,” says Jane. “I just don’t want to rush to judgment.”
The chief frowns. That’s not a phrase an investigator likes to hear. “All this evidence that we’ve put together against Christian Newsome doesn’t sound like a ‘rush to judgment,’ Sergeant.”
“But it’s worth considering,” says Jane, “that Simon Dobias was pullingstrings all over the place here. The phones were off in between the intervals of the text messaging because he didn’t want anyone trackinghismovements.”
“So what,Simon Dobiasmade those text messages from Christian’s phone?”
“Yes, that would be the theory.”
“So—Christian Newsome and Lauren Betancourt were not having an affair?”
“That would be the working theory, correct.”
“They didn’t even know each other.”
“Probably not.”
“Lauren wasn’t having an affair with anyone?”
“Probably not,” says Jane. “She didn’t tell any of her closest friends, Chief. In fact, remember, she told one of her friends that she ‘missed sex.’ Just last week, she’s telling them she misses sex. If you believe those text messages, she had no reason to be missing sex. She was getting it on a regular basis.”
“No chance she was lying to her friends about that fact?”
“A chance, sure, but I’m not sure why she would.”
“And Christian’s razor and trimmer—Simon planted them at Lauren’s house.”
“Correct.”
“So... Christian didn’t kill Lauren Betancourt? Simon did.”
“Correct. That’s the theory.”
“Because it sure looks like Christian had the Grim Reaper costume in his house, and it sure sounds like he was wearing the exact boots that treaded all over Lauren’s house.”
“It does, yes, it does.”
“So Simon kills Lauren around eight p.m. on Halloween, then goes to Christian’s house and kills him, plants the Grim Reaper costume, and puts the boots near his feet. Right?”
“That or something very close to that, yes.”
The chief leans back in his chair. “Then answer me this, Sergeant,” he says. “If Simon was sending text messages from Christian’s end of the phone call, who wasrespondingto them? Not Lauren, I presume? Because from everything we’ve heard, Simon and Lauren were like oil and water.”