Page 70 of Girl in the Water
Ian had read the original police interviews. He was going to ask most of the same questions. A full month had passed since the child’s disappearance, so he expected to get slightly different answers.
The staff would have talked about the case a lot in the intervening month. This was a major tragedy in their midst. With time, their recollections would grow more and more similar to each other as certain aspects were reinforced, others forgotten. Investigating a crime with a month’s delay was not ideal. But even if they’d forgotten some of the details, maybe someone had remembered something new. That was Ian’s best hope here.
He didn’t even want to think about Finch’s case, the four-year delay there. He should have gotten to it sooner. Some friend he’d turned out to be. If he’d been alone, he would have taken a few months off from work long before now. But with Daniela in college, he’d needed every paycheck. And, with her spending every break with him, they’d needed a two-bedroom apartment.
He was a damn fool, unable to let her go. No wonder she’d gotten some strange ideas. When they returned to DC, he was going to make serious changes.
He’d been half listening to the conversation Daniela initiated around the table, but now, his mind made up about her future and feeling better for it, he turned his full attention to the six people who sat around with somber faces.
“First, maybe you could just tell us where you were when baby Lila went missing,” Daniela said, looking at each person in turn, smiling at each, sincere gratitude on her face that they were here.
Mrs. Frieseke began. “I was at the hospital with one of the girls who broke her arm while they were playing basketball outside.”
“Did all the girls come in after the accident?” Daniela asked.
“No, they stayed to finish the game. Pierre was watching them.”
Pierre Avy, a Frenchman in his early twenties—with the kind of too symmetrical, unlined puppy face Hollywood was so fond of—nodded, making love to Daniela with his eyes, showing way too many teeth. Ian wondered if the guy would still be that confident with a couple of those teeth knocked out.
“When it’s not raining here,” Pierre said in an irritating French accent, “it drizzles. So anytime we have a dry court, we take advantage of it. Mornings are great for games, before the worst of the heat hits.”
According to the police report, Mrs. Frieseke’s presence at the hospital had been confirmed. The ER had a sign-in sheet. And the girl she took also backed up the site manager’s alibi. All the other girls were either playing basketball or watching the game. According to them, as was well-documented in the police report, Pierre Avy hadn’t left the court the entire time.
For now, tentatively, Ian was prepared to cross Mrs. Frieseke and Monsieur Avy off the suspect list.
Daniela turned her attention to a pregnant woman who’d introduced herself as Carol Peterson. She was blonde and tall, very Midwestern, from Wisconsin, according to the report Ian had.
“I had post office duty,” Carol said. “I volunteer to go into the city, since I like the walk. Helps to work the kinks out of my back. I want to do as much as I can now before the baby is born. And I like going out in the relative cool of the morning. The post office is nearby.”
“Will you be staying here for the baby’s birth?” Daniela asked.
“Of course.” Carol patted her belly. She carried a smile around the table. “These people are my family.”
According to the report Ian had, she’d begun working at See-Love-Aid with her husband two years ago. Seven months ago, her husband had died of a snakebite he’d suffered on a fishing trip upriver. Neither of them had family back home. Carol stayed.
She looked drawn, exhausted, still grieving, but putting on a brave face.
Back when Linda had been pregnant, this had been Ian’s worst fear. If he had been killed in the army, Linda would have been left alone to raise the babies.Neverhad he imagined that it could be the other way around, his family gone and he still here.
“It’s important to have people you care about around you,” he told Carol. And because she reminded him of Linda too much for comfort, he focused on the two middle-aged women who sat next to her—thin noses, thin lips, short brownish hair. Hannah and Heather. Sisters.
“We were having breakfast in our room,” Hannah said.
And Heather added, stricken, “We had the door open to a crack to listen in case the baby cried. She never made a sound.”
The second male staff member was the only person who hadn’t talked yet. Early thirties, nearly white-blond, tall, Scandinavian looking, from Cleveland, Ohio. His name was Henry Stubner.
“I was fixing the dripping faucet in the men’s room. My room is right next to it, and the dripping kept me up at night.” Henry barely glanced at Ian. His full attention was on Daniela, who was smiling at him.
“Sounds like you’re very handy to have around,” she said.
He flashed a grin that was decidedly not modest. “I do what I can. I’m here to help.”
He kept holding Daniela’s gaze.
Ian cleared his throat. “What does everybody think of the parents?”
For crimes of murder and disappearance, investigators always looked at the family first.
