The door opened, and a young trooper stuck his head in. “Investigator Adler just got here,” he said. “She should be in to see you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you,” Randall replied.
“You need anything? Coffee? Soda? Water? A snack?”
“I’m fine.”
“You need the bathroom? Been sitting here awhile.”
“No.”
The trooper nodded. “Okay, hang tight. She’ll be in shortly.”
The door closed, and Randall fell back in his uncomfortable seat, looking up at the camera for the first time. By now Adler was getting briefed on what he’d been doing while he waited. Nothing. He hadn’t been doing anything other than staring at the brown wall in front of him. She’d probably sent the young trooper in so she could adjust the volume on the recording equipment and make sure the video feed was working. He knew from experience how these things worked.
The doorknob turned, and as expected, the investigator walked in carrying a small pile of file folders and two bottled waters.
“Hello again,” Randall said, purposefully tamping down the smile that would normally accompany such a greeting.
“Hello, Dr. Brock.” She placed the folders on the desk and slid one of the waters over to him. “I know you said you didn’t need anything, but you’ve been in here awhile.”
“Thank you.”
She sat down in the chair opposite him. Two was about the maximum number of bodies you could fit in the tight space.
“I’m sorry you’ve been waiting as long as you have. I was coming in from home and got caught in some traffic. Roadwork.”
“Yes, they told me. Two of your troopers were waiting in my driveway when I returned from the supermarket. It’s funny—I have friends and neighbors making meal after meal to show their love and sympathy for me and Amanda, but somehow no one thinks to bring milk or sugar or a bushel of bananas. I have more lasagna, cake, pie, and prime rib than I could ever eat, but when it comes to milk, eggs, salt, and cereal, I’m on my own.”
“You’re right. I never thought of that.”
“Anyway, the men who picked me up told me you had news about Amanda?”
“Yes,” the investigator replied. “And I wanted to go over a few things with you regarding your wife’s accident. Details are still a bit unclear, so I’m hoping you can provide the clarity we’re looking for.”
“I’ll certainly do my best.”
She placed her elbows on the table and cleared her throat. “When we were out on the back porch at the funeral home, you asked me if there was suspicion around Amanda’s death. At the time I told you I couldn’t talk about an open investigation.”
“I remember.”
“I’m going to be honest with you now. Yes. There’s suspicion around her death. We’ve ruled her death a homicide.”
The words stopped him, and although he’d suspected as much with the way the police had been acting, the confirmation was stunning nonetheless. He rubbed eyes that were suddenly tired and heavy. He wanted to go home.
Amanda was murdered, and I know who did it. I saw the whole thing. I can help you.
Adler opened the first file. “Our autopsy results show Amanda was dead before her car ever veered off Route 202. The medical examiner found that several of the vertebrae at the base of her skull were broken, which we believe was the real cause of death. Someone hit her with a blunt object like a bat or tire iron or heavy stick. Maybe even a pipe. Something like that.”
“My god.”
“Can you retrace your steps that night, after you left the award ceremony?”
Randall looked at her. An anger began to boil within. The confirmation that Amanda was murdered was already too much to handle, but the fact that this woman could think he’d had anything to do with killing the love of his life made him furious. “So you think I did it.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m simply asking you to retrace your steps that night so we can continue to put the pieces of this puzzle together.”
“How many others have you had in this room to ask such questions?”
“You’re the first.”
“Because I’m the prime suspect.”
Adler offered a reassuring smile. “Please, Dr. Brock. Help us reconstruct that night. If you want us to find your wife’s killer, we need your help.”
“Okay,” Randall replied. He looked up at the camera and could feel the eyes upon him. The dull, familiar ache in the back of his head began to emerge. “As I’ve stated several times before, I left the award ceremony early because I had some work to do at my office. You should call the school. They have cameras set up in the parking lots. You’ll see my car. I was there all night.”
“Yes, we’re working on that.”
“I called Amanda a few hours after I got to the office to make sure she got home okay, but there was no answer. I left a message at home and on her cell. The next morning you arrived and told me she’d been in a fatal car accident, and you brought me to the medical examiner’s office to identify her body.”
“You called her cell.”
“Yes.”
“She had her phone with her?”
Randall paused for a moment, his head swirling. “Yes, she always had her phone with her.”
Susan made a few notes, then opened a second folder, looked up, and met his eyes. “Did you know Amanda was having an affair?”
Randall grimaced. “Only after. I found texts and emails on Amanda’s phone. I saw one of the texts come in from her lover, and that prompted me to look into the phone to see who he was.”
“Did you have any idea this affair might’ve been happening beforehand? Any strange behavior from your wife? Anything that would give you a hint that she was seeing someone?”
“Nothing,” Randall replied firmly. “I never suspected a thing. As far as I was concerned, we were happily married. Needless to say, it was quite the shock to find out about her affair. Amanda never seemed unhappy or unfulfilled. I still can’t understand it.”
“Do you know with whom your wife was having this affair?”
“Not at the time. I came to learn his name was Hooper Landsky.”
Adler pulled a photograph from the folder and slid it across the table. “Is this Hooper Landsky?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know what he looks like?”
“There were photos on Amanda’s phone.”
“Have you ever met him in person?”
“No.”
More pictures were extracted from the folder and placed side by side in front of him.
“These are pictures taken from the traffic and security cameras near Hooper’s office and parking garage on Manhattan.” Adler pointed to two of the photos. “Is that you, Dr. Brock?”
Randall looked at the pictures. They showed him walking in front of Hooper’s garage and turning down a small alley that led around the back. He tried to sit still but could feel his body start to tremble. “Yes, that’s me. I went down to his office to confront him but decided against it at the last minute. I guess when I was actually faced with the notion of walking up to him, I realized it was pointless. Amanda was dead, so why bother calling him out? What would be the point in knowing why Amanda was sleeping with him? There was nothing I could do to fix it. I think the grief pushed me there, but in the end, I just went home.”
“You just stated you never met him in person.”
“I didn’t. I watched him from afar and never made contact.”
More silence.
“Wait,” Randall said, suddenly sitting up and pointing at one of the pictures. “Do you think Hooper could’ve hurt Amanda? Do you think he could have anything to do with her accident?”
Adler ignored the question. “Were you aware your wife was planning on filing for divorce?”
Randall slumped back down in his seat. “Yes. And I’m aware that she had drafts of her will made that cut me out of it and left me with a small alimony payment. Both of these things,
along with the affair, I learned after the accident.”
“After the accident.”
Randall chuckled, shaking his head. He wanted to jump up out of his seat and scream, but he knew that would only give Adler the excuse she needed to paint him as someone capable of killing his wife. Instead, he took a breath and spoke slowly. The pain in his head was increasing, squeezing his skull. “I can see what you’re doing. I’m not an idiot. Amanda was having an affair. Motive. Amanda was going to divorce me. Motive. Amanda was changing her will. Motive. I understand, but I can assure you I had nothing to do with what happened to her. You can check with the university. I was in my office. You can bring a polygraph in here. Whatever you need, I’m willing to comply, but do it quickly so you can catch the person responsible for her death.” He gestured angrily toward the photographs with a wave of his hand. “Why isn’t he sitting in here?”
Adler looked at him. “Mr. Landsky has been missing since the morning these photos were taken. He walks into a dark garage after work. You’re seen around the perimeter of the garage, and Hooper hasn’t been heard from since. How do you explain that?”
The room suddenly seemed eerily quiet.
You’re a suspect.
Randall looked up at the camera and reached for his water. Thoughts began to come, one after the other, until he couldn’t focus on a single thing. Hooper was missing. What did that mean? What was happening?
“Dr. Brock, can you explain how Hooper Landsky could go missing on the same day you’re photographed near the last place he was seen?”
He gulped and shook his head. “No. I can’t.”
“Do you know where Mr. Landsky is?”
“I don’t. I swear.”
“Okay.” Susan gathered the pictures and placed them back in the folder. “Last thing. You said you learned about Amanda’s affair from the pictures on her phone.”
“That’s right.”
“Dr. Brock, how did you come to possess your wife’s phone?”
The question hung in the air as silence enveloped the room. Randall closed his eyes, knowing he’d been caught in a lie.
Secrets.
He cleared his throat, searching for the answer as Sam’s words echoed in his mind.
Amanda was murdered, and I know who did it. I saw the whole thing. I can help you.
“I don’t . . .”
“You said your wife always has her phone with her. In fact, you called her phone and left a message to ensure she got home from the party that night.”
“Yes, but—”
“Now all of a sudden you have her phone and discovered proof of an affair on that phone. Funny coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”
I know everything.
“I-I found her phone at the house,” Randall stuttered. “I thought she had it with her, but I guess she didn’t. It was still in the charger at the house. Maybe she forgot it or didn’t want to bring it to the ceremony with her. I didn’t know her phone was at the house because I went straight to the office.”
Susan opened the first file folder again, scanning through the pages. “But we found her charger at the scene. We got her charger. No phone.”
“Her phone was in my charger.”
“I see.”
Again, the room fell silent. Randall could feel sweat slipping down his back. “I didn’t kill Amanda.”
“Okay.”
“Are you charging me?”
“No.”
“Then I can go?”
“Yes. You can go.”
He got up out of his seat and made his way numbly toward the door.
“I’m sorry,” Adler said. “I lied. I do have one more question.”
Randall stopped, his hand on the knob. “Yes?”
“Who’s Sam?”
The name shot through him like a bolt of lightning, but Randall stayed calm by squeezing the door handle and focusing on the folders that were still on the table. “I have no idea.”
“Are you sure? I ask because when we saw Dr. Reems, he told us to ask you about him.”
“He must be mistaken. I don’t know a Sam.”
Adler smiled. “Okay. Thanks for your time.”
Randall pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. His head was pounding. He had to get outside. Peter had told the police about Sam. How could he do that? How could he betray his trust like that when Peter had been the only person he could count on? Things were beginning to spin out of his control. He felt lost, unhinged from a world he’d thought he had a handle on. How could this be?
You’re a suspect.
I know everything.
31
Tommy jumped up from his desk when Susan walked back onto the floor.
“Hey, I just got back,” he said. “Watched the tail end of your interview on the screen. Nice job.”
“Thanks.”
“You scared him good with that phone question. He walked right into it. And the question about Sam was a nice touch. He’s hiding something for sure.”
Susan nodded. “Looks that way.” She walked toward her desk. “You find anything at his house?”
“Maybe. I obviously couldn’t go inside without a warrant, so I looked through some windows. Nothing out of place. I walked the perimeter of the property and poked around in the woods behind the house. Everything is super well manicured. I guess the way the house is positioned, the sun hits the backyard for most of the day, because there was hardly any snow back there. I could see that the grass was cut evenly, hedges were trimmed, mulch had some snow in it, but there weren’t even dead weeds in the beds.”
“Okay, so he has a good landscaper.”
“Right,” Tommy replied. “But then I come across this patch of dirt, about three feet by three feet against the side of the house, just down from the deck. Freshly dug. Kind of sloppy. The dirt was still soft and dark from being turned. It caught my eye because everything else was so perfect.”
“What could that be?”
“I have no idea, but I think we should check it out.”
Crosby came out of his office. “Good work,” he said to Susan.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Couldn’t hold him on what we have, but I think you shook him enough to let him know we’re not screwing around. We’ll keep an eye on him now and see where he goes. Hopefully something will bend in our favor. You still think he’s clean?”
“I don’t know what to think. Corolla here might have something.”
Tommy reiterated his story to Crosby about the patch of dirt he’d found in Randall’s yard. “If we could hold him for twenty-four hours, we could get a chance to look into that spot. Maybe we could even have a peek inside the house if we could get a judge to sign off.”
Crosby shook his head. “We don’t have anything concrete enough to hold him. And we sure as hell don’t have enough to get a warrant.”
“He’s at the garage at the same time Hooper is, and Hooper hasn’t been seen since,” Tommy replied. “His wife was killed, and her accident was intentional to cover it up. Randall has her phone. I don’t see how he’s not our prime suspect.”
“I think he is,” Susan said. “But what we have is all circumstantial, and none of it will stick. Maybe she did forget her phone. Maybe he was going to confront Hooper and chickened out. Nothing we have will work with the kind of lawyers this guy can afford. That’s just the way it is.”
Crosby handed Susan a folder. “These are pictures from the security-camera feed from Quarim the night of Amanda Brock’s accident.”
She took the folder and opened it. “Anything?”
“We see him parking the car in the lot, entering the science building a little past ten thirty. His car remains in its spot for the entirety of the night. We picked up another feed from the entrance to the science building, and we can see him enter. He doesn’t leave until you walk in to get him. There are no cameras inside the building, but this is pretty clean. From what we can see, Dr. Brock has his alibi.”
&
nbsp; “Damn.”
“If there was another angle to hold him, I’d play it, but we’re stuck.”
“For now,” Susan said, dropping the folder onto her desk. “We’re onto something here. Just have to keep digging.”
32
It was close to nine o’clock when Susan walked out of the barracks. Tommy had finished filing his paperwork from the property walk-around earlier, and she’d sent him home to get some rest. They’d been moving at a good clip since the investigation began, and she needed her partner sharp. There was no sense in him sitting around while she typed her way through the interview transcripts and uploads.
The kids would most likely be asleep by the time she got home. Another day lost. She made a promise to herself to do something fun with them once the case was over. Maybe a trip to Rockefeller Center to see the giant tree and go ice-skating. Or an afternoon at the movies. Or lunch at Chuck E. Cheese’s with an endless supply of tokens for all the games. Something to reconnect them. Something to make her feel better.
It was snowing. Just flurries for now. She looked up at the lights as she made her way toward her car and marveled at how beautiful the flakes looked dancing in the glow, swirling and flipping around one another, then vanishing as they fell from the light back into the darkness. An express train heading south flew by in a rush, then was gone, and it was quiet again. Peaceful.
Perfect.
She noticed a figure standing in the shadows at the edge of the parking lot, near the roller hockey rink. He was unmoving, seemingly staring at her, but she couldn’t be certain. His face was hidden beneath a large hood. He stood completely still, positioned on the opposite side of the lot from where she’d parked her car. She figured it to be a man based on his size and girth but couldn’t be sure.
She casually reached under her jacket and unsnapped the holster that was fastened on her belt. The guy was probably harmless. Most likely homeless or had come from the VA down the road. He also could’ve been a day laborer who’d just gotten dropped off, but she was the only one outside and needed to ensure her safety. She gripped the handle of her Beretta, ready to extract it if needed but not wanting to jump to any conclusions.
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