Evidence

“Girls’ night out. Gerrrrls’ niyett ote. Like it had been something she’d heard in a chick movie or something, like she had been trying to be American, you know? But what the hey, she’s paying, why not? She found a place near the airport, you heard planes coming in, they served these humongous margaritas. Remember those glasses, like for a plant, Teen?” Rubbing my leg for emphasis.

“How’d the topic turn to Des Backer?”

“It had just kinda happened. You remember how, Teen?”

Head shake.

Passant said, “I guess we had been talking about stuff and that started it to talking about guys. And that started it to talking about it being a girls’ night out. And that started to someone saying I wonder how Des would have liked this, being with all these girls.”

“Who said that?”

Bettina Sanfelice said, “Sheryl.”

“I did?”

“Yes.”

Passant grinned. “If she says I said it, then I said it. I was pretty much happy-time happy. I don’t worry about what people think, anyway, always just say what’s in my head.”

I said, “So you brought up Des and-”

“And everyone piled on. Like Truth or Dare without the dare.”

“Everyone piled on except Helga.”

“Everyone with a beating heart.”

I said, “What did Helga do during the discussion?”

“Sat back and listened. I started and told them about Des and me and then Tina broke in and said, ‘I was with him, too.’ Now, that had freaked me out because Tina had always been the shy one and she’d never told me nothing.” To her friend: “Nothing like four margaritas to get truth past the dare, huh? Go, girl.”

Sanfelice stared at the table.

I said, “So Marjorie Holman spoke last.”

“It was almost like she had been feeling left out, you know? Wanted to be young. Like us, younger and hotter and doing it with Des.”

“Still, she was your boss. That was pretty uninhibited.”

“She drank more than anyone and she wasn’t the real boss, anyway. Helga was. And the way she said it-Marjorie-was weird. Not coming out, more like a… something weird.”

Bettina Sanfelice said, “She said, ‘That experience is common to yours truly, as well.’ When I figured it out, it really shocked me, Ms. Holman always seemed so stern.”

Passant said, “Stern with her legs wide open. And she even got into more details.” Winking. “She said he did her standing up behind a trailer. Facing her, it was real friendly, almost like they were having a conversation, except they weren’t.”

Bettina Sanfelice said, “She made it sound like his being inside her was a surprise.”

The three of us stared at her.

She burst into tears. Retched and slapped her hand to her mouth and motioned frantically with the other. Milo scooted out and she ran to the bathroom.

Sheryl Passant said, “She always had a bad stomach.”

I said, “She said the same about you.”

“Me? No way. I’ve liked chili and spicy my whole life.”

“After Marjorie told you about Des, what else did she say?”

“Nothing. She just shut up and drank some more. We had to sit there a long time until she could drive. Helga left first, me and Tina and Ms. Holman sat there looking at each other, like no one had anything to say anymore. There was CSI: Miami on a big plasma and we just watched then we all drove home.”

“What happened the next day?”

“What do you mean?”

“No mention of the discussion?”

“Nope.” Her hand dropped to fool with her napkin, again. This time she lingered at my crotch.

I shifted away. “I’m going to make sure Bettina’s okay.”

“Don’t bother, she’s okay-all right, fine, but she’s really okay.”

***

It took nine minutes for Sanfelice to emerge from the ladies’ room. Her steps were wobbly and her eyes were raw. When she saw me, she gasped.

“You all right?”

“I’m terrible,” she said. “That was terrible.”

“Sorry. I didn’t intend for it to get that detailed-”

“With Sheryl it would have to. She likes to show off. Her dad’s a drunk and he beat her mom all the time, Sheryl never did well in school and her mom died a few years ago. My mom says she’s a slut but she’s had it hard.”

Glancing toward the booth. “You won’t tell my mom, right?”

CHAPTER 8

Passant and Milo weren’t talking. Passant looked bored.

When Bettina Sanfelice settled back in, Milo said, “A woman died with Des-”

“Omigod-”

“-and I’ve got a picture of her. It’s not disgusting or bloody, but it was taken after death. Can you handle looking at it?”

Passant said, “I just saw it, Teen, it’s no big deal and you don’t know her.”

Sanfelice took a deep breath. “How can you be sure?”

“I didn’t know her, so no way you did.”

“That makes no sense, Sher. Show it to me, sir.”

Milo produced the death shot. Sanfelice studied. Smiled triumphantly. “I’ve seen her with Des.”

Passant said, “Sure you have.”

Milo said, “Where and when, Bettina?”

“Just once, sir. It was after work. Des and me were the last ones in the office. I was sweeping up and Des was drawing stuff on the computer. Our cars were parked in the lot out back and we walked out together.” Tapping the image with a finger. “She was there, standing next to his car. Waiting for him, he wasn’t surprised or anything.”

“Was he happy to see her?”

“He wasn’t happy or unhappy. Kind of… in the middle.”

Passant murmured, “Once upon a time…”

Sanfelice said, “I definitely saw her. I can tell you what she was wearing, sir. Tight jeans and a black tank top. She had a real good body. I remember thinking Des had himself a hot one.”

Glaring at Passant. As opposed to…

Passant huffed and slurped her drink.

I said, “Did Des address her by name?”