convinced that Evan was a killer, but her body certainly was.
With this unsteady gait she made it to the door and reentered the snowy night, aware that Evan did not seem to fear her tete-a-tete with his partner, and aware that the controlled Jerry Graham could be an even more formidable foe, should he choose to be. But they were in an open area and the glimmer of light left in the sky reassured her. Besides, if Jerry Graham had anything to hide, he deserved an Oscar for his acting talents.
“I’m sorry if Evan seemed irate, but he’s just lost his wife.”
“The one who had blond hair and implants,” she couldn’t resist pointing out, even though she wanted Graham to talk to her.
“Evan has a lot more finesse with superconductors than he has with people, I’m afraid, but don’t take that to mean he didn’t love Jillian. He won’t talk about it, but he’s having a real hard time with the idea that she was unhappy enough to die.”
The snow made a creaking sound as it compressed beneath their feet, and flakes turned to water as they touched her flushed face. “Do you think she did this purposely? Committed suicide?”
“I can’t believe that, though I suppose people always say that after something like this happens.”
“What did she say, when you were at dinner on Saturday?”
He stopped as they reached Theresa’s car. “I hate to admit that I don’t even remember. Just small talk-Cara was starting to crawl, the locks on her car doors had frozen shut, wasn’t it great that Polizei had won the year’s top slot from
“What kind of mood was she in?”
“Typical Jillian. Sweet, upbeat, otherwise quiet. If she harbored bad thoughts, she kept them to herself. But Jillian kept a lot to herself, so-” He shook his head, the few lines he had on his face settling into sadness. “I just can’t believe it.”
Her heartbeat slowed to nearly normal. “I’m sorry to have to ask you these questions, but as I said, I’m trying to find out what happened to Jillian. I-I didn’t have anything to do with Drew Fleming’s guardianship petition and I didn’t even know we still had Jillian’s body.”
“That’s Fleming too. He’s petitioning the court to get custody.”
“Of Jillian’s
“The guy’s nuts.”
Theresa secretly agreed. Drew might have a slight legal chance with Cara’s custody, but Jillian’s body would be released to her legal next of kin-her husband, period. The idea of what Drew might want to
“I’m sorry to hear that. No wonder Evan isn’t pleased to see me.” She waved her hand at the beat-up Dodge. “I didn’t even think he was here, but I’d already stopped, so I came in anyway. I assume that’s not Evan’s car.”
As she had hoped, he seemed relieved to discuss anything besides Evan and Jillian. “My girlfriend dropped me off. Evan’s car is having its bath at the SuperWash. We usually park in the garage around back anyway. It keeps us from having to scrape the windshield.”
“The joys of Cleveland in the winter,” she said, and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Graham.”
“No problem. Just-if you can help it-”
“Yes?”
“Don’t come back.”
Every item of clothing the kid at the SuperWash wore had a stripe running down the side. Shirt, pants, jacket, in an attempt to be either fashionable or too unfashionable to pilfer.
She had no idea what Evan drove, but Jerry had mentioned SuperWash, and when she reached the corner of 117th, lo and behold, there sat a SuperWash facility, WHERE YOUR CAR IS TREATED LIKE A HERO, and if one had to leave one’s car, it would certainly make sense to leave it somewhere within walking distance. She approached the kid. “Excuse me.”
His black skin shone with effort. Either he really liked waxing cars or he had to finish this one before leaving for the day, because he didn’t seem to care for the interruption. “What?”
“Do you have Evan Kovacic’s car here?”
“Yeah. That one.” He waggled the chamois in his hand toward a jet black Escalade slated to be next in line through the indoor pit of hoses and sprayers.
She studied the setup, an idea forming in her mind. Evan Kovacic had killed his wife. Theresa didn’t know how or when or precisely why, but he had, and she was going to catch the bastard. He had used Jillian and then dismissed her. He would not find Theresa so easy to get rid of.
The rest of the small building had been abandoned, the lights in the glassed-in office turned off. The work bay, however, remained bright enough to hurt the eyes. “What are you going to do to the car?”
He stood up with an irritated leap, having finished one side of a vintage Mustang and moved to start on the other. “
“Just wash the outside?”
He attacked the hazy wax covering the paint with the limitless energy of youth. “Full detail. And before I leave tonight too. You see anyone else still stuck here? No, they’re home with their dinners. Lucky for him I need the overtime-”
“What does that mean, full detail?”
“Why you want to know? You thinking of bringing your car here?”
“It’s kind of a long story. Do you vacuum the inside?”
“Inside, cargo area, Armor All the dash, scrub the tires. At least he ain’t got no whitewalls. Anything else you want to know?”
“Then you throw out the vacuum bag?”
“No vacuum bag. There’s sort of a filter in that big thing there that gets replaced every so often. Don’t know, it ain’t my job.”
“You scrub the tires?”
“Get the treads clean as a whistle. Mr. Kovacic insists. That’s us. Service above and beyond. Anything else you want to know, lady?”
“How many people ask for their tires to be scrubbed?”
“You takin’ a survey?”
“Sort of.”
His biceps tightened and relaxed in sequence as he finished up the passenger door. His entire body language spoke of his annoyance, and yet he remained either too polite or too incurious not to respond. “Only him, that I know of.”
“Is this the first time he’s brought his car here?”
“Hardly. Every week. He thinks a lot of that car, I guess.”
“But this is the first time he’s asked for the tires to be scrubbed.” That sounded like circumstantial evidence to her.
“Nope. Insists on that every time.”
Maybe not.
“Says the salt ruins the rubber. It don’t, you know.”
“Would you mind if I removed some of the dirt for you? Just the stuff in the tires, and the lint on the upholstery.”
He drew himself up to his full height, a good head taller than hers. “You some clean car fairy or something?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then
“I work for the medical examiner’s office. I want to collect any loose hairs, fibers, soil from Mr. Kovacic’s car. It will be less for you to vacuum up, look at it that way.”
