Page 54 of Holding On to a Hero
I managed to get through the story calmly. When I was done Ochoa told me, “The guy who was on the yacht that hit you is still in jail, just so you know.” Good, I hoped he rotted there. “What about the insurance payout? Who would that go to if you died?”
I rubbed my face. “I’ve got it set up to go into a trust for Abby. She can’t use it for anything other than school expenses until she’s twenty-five.” I sighed, knowing what the next question would be. “If I pass away Ally becomes the trustee, but she’s the VP of Finance for a multinational corporation. She’s got way more money than I do.”
Ramirez again. “Okay, thanks, Will. You’ve never been married, correct?”
“Right.”
“What about ex-boyfriends or lovers?”
“Uh, how far back do you want me to go?”
“You went to college, right? Let’s start there.”
Are you shitting me?“I’m thirty-six years old.”
“Just humor us.”
“Right. Well, uh, in college I, you know, experimented a lot, so it was mostly hookups. I dated a guy named Darius Thompson for one semester my senior year, but he transferred schools. Then after college I just screwed around mostly for a few years. About – what? – six or so years ago I had a pretty serious relationship with a guy named Stuart Lacosta. He was in the closet back then, though. I ended up breaking that off after about nine months when I got tired of being a secret.”
“And after that?”
“Uh, I was kind of burned by Stuart, so I didn’t have anyone serious until about three years ago. Then I dated Scott. Scott Pruitt. But we only lasted about five months.” I’d never had anything that lasted even a year, but I kept looking, hoping for something special. I sighed. “And then the accident happened and I couldn’t get out and about much, so I stuck with hookups at clubs.” No risk of them seeing my scars.
Detective Callahan asked a couple of clarifying questions and I gave them Stuart and Scott’s contact information. I mentally apologized to both of them. I couldn’t imagine what Darius would think if they tracked him down.
“Mr. Graham, what about any business rivals?” I’m sure I looked like a confused goldfish as I gaped at Ranger Ramirez, but I didn’t want to check my reflection in the mirror. Finally I recovered enough to respond.
“Uh, well, I’m a wildlife photographer. And it’s not like I work forNational Geographicor anything, so there’s not a lot of competition. I’m not up for any awards. None of the other wildlife photographers would have a reason to kill me.”
“And in your former career in Denver?”
I thought back. “Well, there was Ingrid Von G. She was always bidding against me for weddings and other events. Her studio was only a few blocks from mine so brides or whoever tended to talk to us on the same day. But I mean, I don’t think she hated me or anything. And I’m certainly not competing with her now. I referred all of my booked clients to her when I shut my studio down.” I shrugged at Ramirez.
“We have to check out all possibilities,” she said firmly. Okay then. “What did you say her name was? Ingrid what?”
I sighed and rubbed my face again. “I can’t pronounce it. You’ll have to look it up.” I spelled out her business website for them. “She shortens it so people won’t have to figure out how to pronounce it.”
Ramirez double-checked that I didn’t have any cousins or former best friends who held a grudge for whatever reason. They asked if I’d ever felt like anyone had been following me, or if I’d received any threatening emails or text messages. I was getting tired of saying “no”.
And then the questions were over. I didn’t understand what was happening at first when Ramirez, Ochoa and Callahan began gathering up their notes and cups.
“Okay, Will. You’ve been very helpful.” I wanted to throw some sarcasm at Ramirez, but I was too tired to come up with anything witty. “We’re going to do our best to find this guy. In the meantime, I think it would be safest for you if you left town. Is there someone who can come pick you up?”
“Uh, yeah. Brian Shelton is sending someone to come get me.” Ramirez looked relieved.
“Great. You’ll be in good hands then.” They started for the door but the “Erk” sound I emitted involuntarily when I stood up made them pause.
“Hey, are you okay?” Ochoa came around toward me. My body was frozen at an angle, my hands braced on the tabletop.
He hovered his hand over my back uncertainly, but I told him, “I’ll be okay. I just need to stand here for a few minutes.” Hopefully that would be all it would take.
* * *
Excerpt from transcript of interview with Calvin Steadham, author of a suspicious Twitter direct message to Cole Washburn:
Ranger Ramirez: Thank you for coming in to speak to us, Mr. Steadham.
Steadham:I didn’t have much choice, did I? And where were you and those jackbooted thugs who brought me here when I tried to warn you this would happen?
