The boy rubbed his nose and sat.
"I'm Detective Sergeant Peter Decker "
"He's from Homicide, Steven. What the hell is going on?"
"Homi..." The boy's eyes grew wide. "Dad, I... I... I..." 90
Decker said, "Mr. Anderson, please sit down and let me ask the questions."
Reluctantly, Anderson sat down. Decker thought a moment, wondering how to play it. Straightforward came to mind. Eyes on Steven, he took out the Polaroids and spread them on the glass coffee table. The boy took a look, jerked his head back, and turned white. The missus gasped. The old man froze.
Decker said, "Do you know this girl, Steve?"
In the background, Decker heard a dry heave. Susan had run out of the room. Decker returned his attention to Steve. The boy had his massive arms wrapped around his barrel chest. "It's ... it's ... Cheryl, isn't it?"
"Cheryl who?"
"Cheryl Diggs."
Decker regarded the boy. "Do you need a glass of water, Steve?"
He nodded. Anderson screamed out, "Susan, Steve needs some water. Make it two."
She didn't answer. No one seemed perturbed by her lack of response.
Decker took out his notepad. "When was the last time you saw her, Steven?"
"Don't answer that," Anderson interrupted.
"Dad, I didn't do any "
"Shut up!"
"But I didn't do "
"I said shut up!" He turned to Decker. "We want a lawyer."
"I don't need a lawyer," Steve protested. "I didn't do anything."
"Go to your room, Steven. Right now!"
"But "
"NOW!" Anderson bellowed.
The boy stood, walked a couple of paces, then turned around. "No."
Anderson stood up. "Steve, get out of here "
"No, Dad, you get out of here. You get out of here. What the hell do you know about me? Or my friends or my life, you goddamn prick "
"Steven "
"Don't you Steven me! You were never around. Only around to put me down "
Anderson moved closer to the boy. "If you don't shut up "
"You shut up! I'm over eighteen, Dad. I don't need your permission to talk. So you shut up!" 91
The boy gave his father a slight shove. Decker moved quickly between them and held out his arms. "BACK OFF NOW! BOTH OF YOU! BACK OFF!"
The room fell quiet except for heavy breathing. Decker seized the moment. "I need your help, Steven."
The boy seemed suddenly deflated. He glanced at his father. That was all the room the senior Anderson needed to horn in. "You don't have a warrant, Sergeant, I don't want you in my house! Now, you do what you have to do, but my son isn't talking until I've talked to him."
Decker gathered up the Polaroids. "Fine. I'll cart him down to the station house and Steve can wait in jail while you contact a lawyer!"
Steve screamed, "I'm not going to jail! I didn't do a fucking thing!"
A small, birdlike voice piped in, "Can everyone please be sensible "
"Susan, get out of here!" Anderson yelled.
The woman put down a tray holding three glasses of water and scooted away. Decker said, "Come on, Steven "
"Wait!" Anderson interrupted. "Talk here. Steven, sit back down and let's get this over with."
Decker wished he could isolate son from father. And since the boy was eighteen, Decker had the legal grounds to do it. But these days, lawyers entered weird pleas with kids charged with capital crimes if they were still living at home. Despite all the talk about personal responsibility, it seemed that whenever a problem arose, there was no such thing as adults anymore only grown children.
Decker said, "Have a seat, Steven. Please." Slowly, the boy returned to the couch. Decker took out his notepad and said, "You saw Cheryl last night?"
Steve nodded.
"When was the last time you saw her?"
"Don't answer that," Anderson broke in.
"Mr. Anderson, if you don't stop interrupting, I'm going to hit you with an obstruction of justice "
"You can't do that."
"Watch me, sir." To Steven, Decker said, "When was the last time you saw Cheryl Diggs, Steve?"
"I... don't remember."
"You don't remember?"
"Not.. . really, no. I can't believe ... this is like surreal!."
"Have some water, Steve."
The kid gulped down the cool liquid. Decker said, "Okay, let's 92
back it up a moment, Steve. When do you first remember seeing Cheryl last night?"
"Somewhere at the prom. The Central West Valley's senior prom."
"Was she your date?"
"No, sir."
"Who was your date?"
'Trish ... Patricia Manning."
"Do you know if Cheryl had a date?"
"Yes, sir. Christopher Whitman."
"She went to the prom with Christopher Whitman?"
"Yes, sir."
"What time did you leave the prom, Steve?"
The boy blew out air. "Around..." He covered his face and looked up. "Oh, God, I'm afraid I'm gonna make a mistake."
Decker said, "Just answer me as best you can, Steven. When did you leave the prom?"
The boy looked sick. "A little after midnight maybe."
"What did you do after that?"
"Hopped around."
"What does that mean?"
"We went to a couple of parties."
"How many parties?"
He looked at his dad. "Maybe two ... yeah... two."
"Was Cheryl at these parties?"
"Yes."
"You saw her at both parties?"
"Yes."
"Was she with her date?"
"She was with Chris, yes."
"What time did you leave the last party?"
Again, Steve looked at his father. He closed his eyes. "Maybe one-thirty, two."
"Did you go straight home?"
His voice fell to nothing. "No."
"Where did you go, Steve?"
The room fell quiet.
Decker said, "Where did "
"I heard you." Steve scratched his face. "A group of us went to a hotel "
"Jesus!" Anderson stood on his feet, flushing and sweating. "You what!?" 93
Decker said, "Take some water, Mr. Anderson."
He did. It seemed to cool him off. Decker asked, "Which hotel did you go to, Steve?"
"Grenada West End."
"You rented rooms there?"
"Sort of. I didn't exactly rent a room. We had rooms, though. I think Cheryl got us all comped. She knew the night clerk. I think she got a special deal from him because she had done him some favors."
"Favors?"
"I think she ..." He moved his hand up and down.
"She had relations with the night clerk?"
"Something like that. Cheryl got around."
"Do you remember the night clerk's name?"
"Henry Tripp or Trupp. Something like that."
Decker wrote DIGGS AND TRUPP? Again, he made a mental note to call Trupp. "And you saw Cheryl at the Grenada West End."
"Yes, sir."
"Do you recall the last time you saw Cheryl?"
The boy shook his head, then covered his face. "Man, this is a fucking nightmare!"
Anderson was about to speak, but Decker held up the palm of his hand. "Steve, do you remember the last time you saw Cheryl?"
"Trish and I "
"Uncover your mouth," Decker said. "I can't understand you."
Steve started again. "There were a lot of us in this room in Cheryl's room."
"Who was in Cheryl's room?" Decker asked.
He started ticking off his fingers. "Trish, Cheryl, Jo Benderhoff, Lisa Chapman, me, Blake Adonetti, tom Baylor, and Chris were all in Cheryl's room."
"What time was that?"
"I guess right after we got there around two."
"You remember seeing Cheryl alive at around two?"
"To the best of my recollection, yes."
>
"What were you doing in the room, Steve?"
The kid blew out air. "We were drinking a little."
"Meaning they were guzzling from the bottle," Anderson muttered.
Decker pushed on. "You were drinking, Steven. What else?"
"Doping a little, maybe."
"Maybe," grunted Anderson.
"What else were you doing, Steve?" Decker pressed. 94
He looked down. "Fooling around."
Anderson blurted out, "I work my ass off so you can go out and have an orgy "
"We weren't having an orgy, Dad. Just... like fooling around. Nothing big. We were having fun. It was no big deal."
"No big deal?" Anderson orated. "Is murder a big deal, Steven?"
The boy suddenly shuddered and looked to Decker for support. Decker remained impassive.
The teen said, "All I'm saying is we weren't outta control. We didn't do anything that the girls didn't want."
"What the hell does that mean?" Anderson boomed.
"Mr. Anderson "
"I know, I know. I'll shut up!" Anderson paced, then sat back down. "You don't understand how hard this is for me."
"Sir, I assure you I understand." Decker meant it. "Just let me do my job as a detective, then you can do your job as a parent." He turned back to Steve. "Let me see if I have this right. You, Trish, Cheryl, Jo, Lisa, Blake, tom, and Chris were all hanging out drinking and doping and fooling around. Groping each other "
"Nothing sick, Dad, I swear..." He blew out air. "Just some stupid fun. Except Chris wasn't into it."
Decker paused. "Why do you say that?"
"I mean he was drinking and everything. But I could tell he was anxious for us to leave."
"You know Chris Whitman pretty well, Steve?"
"No one knows Chris well. Because the guy doesn't talk. But you know how guys are when they want to be alone with a girl. He didn't say anything, but he was anxious for us to get the hell out."
"How did he act?"
"I don't know. He acted like Chris."
"Was he nervous, angry, hostile?"
Steve took another drink of water. Talking about Whitman made him relax. "No, Chris doesn't get nervous or hostile. He doesn't get much of anything. He's kinda flat."
"Then how could you tell he wanted you to leave?"
"I don't know. He seemed ... annoyed. Kept checking his watch. I was trying to prod Trish along, but she was having a good time. I didn't want to ... get her out of the mood."
"What kind of mood was Cheryl in?"
"Cheryl was Cheryl. A free spirit." He paused. "Except last night... she couldn't keep her eyes off Chris. She was so... hot for him. It was almost embarrassing." 95
"Was he hot for her?"
"See, you don't know Chris. You can't tell what he's thinking. I've never seen him mad or amped or upset, even when he raged to the max." Steve looked at his hands. "Once, after this party, we all were feeling kinda good. So we piled into tom Baylor's car and went for a ride. Trouble was we'd been drinking and tom was pretty blitzed."
The boy looked at his father. At this point, the man was beyond words. Disappointment had replaced outrage.
Steve continued, "We got stopped by the cops for speeding. Chris pulls out the keys from the ignition, pushes tom out of the driver's seat, takes the whole rap. They have him walk the line. They have him take a breath test. Guy's totally cool." The boy raised his eyes in wonderment. "'Course they gave him a speeding ticket, but he got out of a DUI."
Decker nodded as he wrote. "But he didn't join in the fun last night?"
"Nope. Just drank and watched."
"Cheryl didn't ask him to join in?"
"No, she wouldn't do that. Because when Chris gets in his... annoyed moods ... he gets spooky. Real quiet... cold. You keep waiting for him to blow, but he never does."
Or maybe he did, Decker thought.
Steve said, "Anyway, we were maybe fooling around for a half-hour, maybe forty-five minutes tops in Cheryl's room. First Jo and Blake left, then tom and Lisa. Trish and I went to our room about five minutes after tom and Lisa."
"So that was around ... what time?"
"Maybe three. That was the last time I saw Cheryl, I swear to God. I'll take a lie-detector test, I'll do anything you want."
Decker said, "How long did you stay at the Grenada?"
"I don't remember," Steve said. "I was home by five in the morning. The place is like maybe twenty minutes away. 'Course I had to drop Trish off first. So maybe I left the Grenada at four-thirty." He shrugged and smiled weakly. "That's it. I swear."
"You didn't see Cheryl when you left?"
"No, sir."
"Did you knock on the door to Cheryl's room?"
"No, sir."
"Did you see Christopher Whitman when you left?"
"No, sir."
"Did you see Jo Benderhoff or Lisa Chapman or Blake Adonetti or torn Baylor when you left your room to go home?"
"No, sir. No one. Ask Trish." 96
Decker said, "What was Cheryl wearing last night, Steve?"
The boy squinted. "Some kind of party dress. I don't remember exactly."
"What was Trish wearing?"
"A red-sequined minidress."
"What were you wearing last night?"
"A tux."
"Bow tie and cumberbund?"
"Sure."
"What was Chris wearing?"
"A tux, also."
"Did it have a bow tie and cumberbund, too?"
"I guess."
"Was Chris wearing his bow tie and cumberbund when you saw him in Cheryl's room?"
"I don't remem " He closed his eyes. "You know, he was wearing his bow tie, but it was undone, like draped around his neck."
"You have your tux from last night?"
"Yeah."
"Can I see it?"
"Sure."
The kid was up and down in a flash. Sure enough, the tux was complete with bow tie and cumberbund.
Decker looked over his notes a good start. If the kid was to be believed, Cheryl died after three but before eight. "Anyone see you come home, Steve?"
"My mom," Steve said. "She always waits up for me."
"Goddamn overprotective," Anderson muttered.
"I don't ask her to do it," Steve said. "She just does."
Decker stood. "Don't go anywhere, Steve. You're still not out of the woods."
Anderson got up. "My son cooperated fully. What more do you want from him?"
Steve said, "I'll do anything to help. Believe it or not, Sergeant, I liked Cheryl. I feel... sick that this happened. She liked to live on the edge, but she didn't deserve this."
Indeed, Decker thought. He folded his pad. "Steven, you keep real quiet about this interview. You start talking, you'll mess yourself up, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear."
Decker put his pad away and said, "Go upstairs. I want to talk to your dad for a moment." 97
The kid retreated. Decker put his hands in his pockets. "I've got kids myself, Mr. Anderson. I don't know if I would have reacted any differently from you."
Anderson stared at Decker, then nodded.
"You know your boy's on steroids," Decker said. "Does he take them with your approval?"
Anderson didn't answer.
"Don't tell me. He's your only son and you didn't want him to grow up a wimp. For his sake, not yours of course. Well, you don't have a wimp, Mr. Anderson. Now what you have is a loose cannon. I don't want to be back here, six months from now, in an official capacity because somebody's temper blew up, you understand what I'm saying?"
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