It was his day off but he couldn’t just sit on his hands. He put a call in to Phil Kearns, asking about Bette, and learned that she was doing fine. Then Phil gave him an earful about not arresting Eric Volker, and the fact that Volker’s alibi held no weight with him. By the time Cooper disconnected he’d heard about fifteen minutes more of character assassination and griping, which Volker and Kearns both appeared to be masters of.
Howie called and discussed Cooper’s finding of Gwen Winkelman and her death, whether it was an accident, suicide, or something else. The crime techs and lab work would hopefully be able to offer some clarification. Howie moved from that to the Stapletons and the Timbolts who were both staunchly defending their children. The Pendelans were still holding firm on charging Katie and possibly Tyler for burglarizing their home and stealing from them, but Howie thought that might all go away.
“Those charges are going to be dropped. They’ll work out a deal. Don’t know whether that’s good or bad, but I’m betting on it.”
Cooper felt he was probably right.
Midmorning, Gwen’s death came through on the local newsfeed on his phone. It was described as an accident, pending further investigation.
At noon Cooper put a call into William Ryerson’s home phone, figuring if he wasn’t already retired then Sunday was most likely the man’s day off. Cooper wasn’t meeting the doctor face-to-face, but neither was he giving up on digging into Emma’s cold case either.
Ryerson’s current wife answered the phone. Kayla, Cooper remembered from Emma’s file. She was reluctant to put him through when she understood the nature of the call, but eventually, she set down the receiver and went in search of the doctor.
A few minutes later Ryerson answered, “Hello,” in a gravelly voice. Then, “What’s this about again? You’re that policeman who called.”
Cooper re-introduced himself, adding, “I was one of the kids who pranked Emma the night she was attacked.”
“You’re a police detective now? What do you want again?” He sounded somewhat alarmed.
“Background. I’m going through the chronology of what happened that night. I planned to come to Bend and try to meet with you personally, but things have kept me here. I wondered if you would mind answering a few questions.”
“I’ve said it all before.”
“I know. I’m working the case again. Just wanted to hear what you remember.”
“Just a minute. Kayla! Get me that cup of coffee? Put some more cream in it. Don’t skimp. I’m going to be on the phone for a while.” He cleared his throat. “Go ahead.”
Cooper looked down at his notes. He was having trouble moving past both Gwen’s death and his lovemaking with Jamie. Memories of her filled his head. It was all he could do to come up with some questions as he remembered the curve of her back, the line of her collarbone, the soft scent of her skin, the fullness of her breasts within his palms....
With an almost physical effort, he set that aside. “You were at the River Glen General’s charity event with your wife, but she left early.”
“Nadine left with Metcalf.” The brusqueness of his tone suggested that her defection might still have some power. “She said I drank too much. Maybe I did. We all did in those days. She said I flirted too much with Kayla. Well, why not? Nadine was a cat in heat around Metcalf. She left and I kept drinking. Had to sober up before I drove home, so I just stayed until the place rolled up the carpets. Then I got home and . . . well, you know what happened. It was hard, seeing Emma on the floor.”
“What time was that?”
“One o’clock? Two? Whatever I said at the time.”
“And Nadine arrived at the house before you did.”
“Metcalf took her home. She went to his place from the auction, spent a few hours in his bed, then finally went home to our kids. Got there right before I did, I guess.”
“Do you have any kind of thoughts about what happened?”
“Thoughts? It’s a crying shame, that’s what it is.”
“Do you think the attack was random? Or, that Emma may have been the target?”
“I don’t think Emma was the target,” he stated flatly. “I think she was just in the way.”
“In the way of what?”
“I don’t know . . . a robbery? They didn’t expect her to be there.”
Cooper listened to his tone. Ryerson was sure of his opinion today, but per the notes, the man wouldn’t even make a conjecture twenty years earlier. “Nothing was taken, if it was a burglary, but you sound pretty certain.”
“Well, hell no. Of course I’m not certain.” He backed away quickly, as if Cooper’d tried to pin something on him.
Cooper let that go. “You and your wife came together after the attack on Emma.”
“We tried to make another go of it. Bad idea from the start. Nadine’s got money, I’m sure you know that. She’s a trust fund baby. Had her money and she wanted Metcalf, but I guess that didn’t work out. She ended up with Campbell. He’s a decent enough guy,” he added grudgingly. “Metcalf wasn’t. But then, I may be prejudiced, and I suppose I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead. Somebody killed him in the hospital parking lot about five years after that night. Bashed his head with a rock, or something, broke into his car, and stole some pills, I think. Anyway, Nadine and I called it quits for good a year or so later.”
Cooper asked a few more questions, but Ryerson was losing interest along with his affable mood. He didn’t offer up anything further and mostly just reiterated what Cooper already knew.
“Thank you,” Cooper finally said.
“Anytime,” the older man responded, though Cooper was pretty sure
