Page 11 of 4th Silence
We follow Alex to his office, filing in while Matt takes up the rear.
The space is a shoebox—barely wide enough to hold all of us—and exactly what I expected: bland gray walls, a metal-framed desk, and a crowded bookshelf in the corner. Most likely law books, given the setting.
Charlie takes one of the guest chairs, also metal, in front of the desk. I take the other, while Matt leans against the wall to my right.
After we’re seated, Alex waves a hand at the door. “Would you mind closing that?”
“Sure,” Matt says, stepping sideways to do as asked.
Alex, tall and lean, sits back in his chair. “I appreciate you coming by, and your apology. Obviously, this case creates stress for my family. My mother, particularly.”
His mother? Tiffany’s aunt? What about her parents?
Typical. The Hartmans are masters of self-promotion. So self-consumed.
I’m not denying their pain, but how about even an ounce of sympathy for Tiffany’s immediate family?
Suddenly, all eyes are on me, and my sister gives me a WTF glare. I must have made a noise or some other signal of my irritation.
Charlie, being Charlie, swings back to Alex. “I can imagine the attention is unnerving. Believe me, I know how persistent our mother can be. This is why we’ve agreed to help her in her pursuits.”
Alex’s eyebrows hitch a tad higher. “Help her? As in investigate?”
“Yes,” I say. “As you know, we specialize in this sort of thing, and the sooner we can get into it, maybe we can help find your cousin’s killer.”
“That,” Alex says, “would be amazing. We’ve hired investigators over the years, but unfortunately, nothing has panned out.”
“Perhaps now, with all the advancements in DNA testing and getting the word out via social media, something will pop.”
“The online sleuths. Sometimes they make me insane.”
“Half of them are quacks,” Charlie says. “But some? Damned good. You never know.”
He lifts a hand. “How can I help?”
Excellent. I lean forward. “Could you take us through what you remember from that night?”
“Of course. But, unfortunately, I don’t know that it’ll help. There were over two hundred people there. I was only nine and just wanted to get to the presents. I didn’t like all the people in the house. It wasn’t, still isn’t, my thing.”
“Do you remember where you were when Tiffany was found?”
He glances in Matt’s direction. “You don’t forget something like that. I was upstairs in the study with two of my friends. Playing video games. I’d just gotten a new PlayStation.” He smiles wistfully. “Life was simple then. After that night, everything changed.”
“I’m sure,” I say. “Tragedy blows up your world.”
He meets my gaze. “You sound like you understand.”
“Not in the intimate way you’ve experienced, but I’ve been through traumatic events. Plus, when I was in sixth grade, nine kids from our area went missing. They’ve never been found. Fear and paranoia gripped me. I still have nightmares.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice soft and kind.
Feeling the punch of the memories, I shake my head. “Like you, it was a long time ago.”
“What about,” Charlie begins, “the investigation? From what we know, there were a lot of people involved.”
“I’ve gone over the files and reports a dozen times,” he says. “Frankly, it’s a mess. Procedures back then weren’t as rigid as they are now, and, let’s face it, the local PD wasn’t exactly experienced in homicides.”
I know this, just from my surface knowledge of the case, is true. First responders, in an effort to offer aid to Tiffany, trampled through the crime scene, leaving mud, finger and footprints, and DNA all over the place.
