Page 40 of Remember Her Name

“The Chief is bringing him up in a few minutes,” Noah said. “He took exception to being put into an interview room.”

“I bet,” Gretchen muttered.

Josie stood up. “That’s a hungry cry.”

Noah blocked the door. “I’ll go. I’ve already got a rapport with him. Maybe if I can get Gracie to stop crying, he’ll be more inclined to talk to me once his mother picks her up.”

Josie sat back down. Seconds later, Noah appeared on the CCTV monitor. He put the printouts on the table and said something to Remy, who motioned toward the stroller. Noah lifted the baby, cradling her in his arms. Her cries quieted a bit until she realized that no bottle was forthcoming.

Noah pointed at the diaper bag stuffed in the stroller’s storage area. Remy pulled it out, prepared a bottle and handed it to Noah. Seconds later, blessed silence descended over the floor as Gracie eagerly downed her formula. For a moment, Josie was transfixed by the sight of her husband holding an infant in his arms, giving her a bottle.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “This is going to make my ovaries explode.”

Gretchen laughed.

Josie had seen Noah with Harris when he was small and with his own niece when she was an infant, but that was long before either of them had considered having children of their own. Now, everything was different. Moments later, Noah was patting Gracie’s back, burping her. A small amount of spit-up dribbled onto his polo shirt. The whole thing gave Josie big feelings that had no place in this building. She needed to focus.

Lucky for her, Remy’s mother arrived to take Gracie. Noah handed her over and then helped Mrs. Tate get the stroller down the steps. When he returned to the interview room, Josie turned the sound up. Noah read Remy his Miranda rights. He didn’t ask for an attorney. With a heavy sigh, Noah sat down as close to Remy as possible. He made a point of asking Remy how he was holding up, expressing sympathy. With each word, Remy’s posture relaxed.

Then Noah turned the conversation to Stella Townsend. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.”

Remy picked a piece of lint from his sweatpants. “Because you went through my phone. You, uh, know about Stella.”

Noah spread the printouts across the table. “What I know is that Stella was very reluctant to enter into a physical relationship with you in spite of your…efforts.”

Gretchen snorted. “Noah is really good at speaking this guy’s language. ‘Efforts.’ Is that what lying sacks of shit call grooming young women these days?”

Although Remy clearly trusted him, Noah wasn’t acting quite as smooth and sexist as he had during the last interview. Probably because it wasn’t necessary. Remy’s text exchanges with Stella Townsend were pretty damning. They didn’t prove his involvement in either murder but they sure as hell didn’t paint a pretty picture.

Remy put his head in his hands. “You don’t understand. Stella is beautiful and she was interested in me. Really interested. If I wasn’t married, she would have gone for me right away.”

Given the texts between Stella and her college friend, Abbie, Josie wasn’t sure that Stella would have gone for him ‘right away.’ There was something else at play here. She just didn’t know what. Yet.

Noah said, “You met Stella about a month after Gracie was born. WYEP was doing a story about you?”

Remy tipped his head back, knocking it against the wall. “Not about me specifically. About the overhaul of the city and court records. The cost of digitizing the older ones and what we’d do with the paper copies once that was completed. Stella was there. The reporter didn’t seem that interested in the story, to be honest, even though he was the one who approached me. Afterward, it was Stella doing all the follow-up, calling to clarify things and ask more questions. We just kind of started talking and texting. I know it’s not cool, but I like her, okay? I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did.”

Gretchen laughed again. “I’m pretty sure ‘it just happened’ is the catchphrase of cheaters everywhere.”

But it hadn’t just happened. Stella’s initial texts to Remy had been nothing but professional, but there had been so many follow-up questions, he’d suggested meeting for lunch. There was no way to know what transpired during that meal—Josie would never believe Remy’s version—but after that, the texts changed to Stella peppering him with personal questions. It was almost as if she was interviewing him. Josie wasn’t sure what Stella’s ulterior motives were or what ‘story’ she was after. Josie also didn’t know why Abbie had mentioned a book deal—but Remy clearly mistook her attention for sexual advances.

Remy said, “Listen, I know this makes me look like an asshole but I don’t see how this helps you find my wife’s killer.”

The landline in the CCTV room rang, startling both Josie and Gretchen. Snatching up the receiver, Josie said, “Quinn.”

Their desk sergeant, Dan Lamay, answered. “There’s a woman here to see you. She says you asked her to come in. Vicky Platt.”

“Yes,” said Josie. “Put her in the conference room. I’ll be right down.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Vicky Platt sat at the head of the first-floor conference room table with the confidence of a CEO overseeing a board meeting. She even stood when Josie entered, striding over to shake hands. She was striking and far more attractive than the thumbnail photo on Dallas Jones’s phone. With her long, glossy blonde hair, silk blouse and fitted skirt, she looked more like a news anchor than a producer. She looked even younger than Trinity. Early thirties maybe. Josie was envious of the ease with which she walked in six-inch heels. Josie would have rolled her ankle just getting across the room.

“Thank you for coming,” Josie said. “Please, sit.”

Vicky smiled as she took her seat again at the head of the table. A closer look at her face revealed red-rimmed eyes. “Your colleague stopped by the station yesterday. The news about Stella is just shocking. Everyone is quite upset. He wouldn’t say what happened but the fact that he was there, asking so many questions, implies foul play.”

Already, Vicky was trying to control the interview. It wasn’t surprising though. Josie would expect nothing less. Journalists were always looking for a story. She had had years of experience dealing with Trinity.

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