Finally speaking for himself, Brandon closed the screen on his laptop and said, “It’s okay, Detective. Anything you have to say to me can be said in front of my colleagues. I don’t have anything to hide.” The look on his young face seemed smug.
Sitting down on the other side of the conference table, Jim extended his arm to the seat on the end of the table offering it to Martinez. “Please, sit.” He sat back in his chair and smiled, crossing his legs and resting his hands comfortably on top of his knees. “Would you like something to drink, Detective?” He turned to the pretty girl sitting next to him. “Sam, get the detective a water would you? And make sure this is recorded, would you please?”
“When was the last time you spoke with your wife, Mr. DeFranco?”
Sam set a water bottle down in front of Martinez and sat down next to Jim. She set the voice recorder on her phone, placed it in the middle of the table, and glanced at Brandon. Catching his eyes for a moment, she gave him half a smile.
Rolling his eyes thinking for a moment, Brandon recalled, “Sometime yesterday. We were in court yesterday morning.” Remembering the night of his arrest he said, “You’re aware we had some problems.”
Shaking his head affirmatively, Martinez replied, “I’m aware. So, you haven’t talked to your wife since court yesterday?”
He nervously adjusted the collar of his polo. “I came into the office after that and worked late. Um, she sent me a text around 8:30, said she was staying at her sister’s house.”
“That was the last time you heard from your wife?”
“Well, yes. She needed some space. There’s nothing illegal about that.”
“Do you remember what your wife was wearing?”
Chiming in, Jim was less amused and more worried where the line of questioning was headed. “Where are you going with this, Detective? What is this all about?”
Acting as if he didn’t hear him, Martinez asked the question again. “Do you remember what your wife was wearing yesterday, Mr. DeFranco?”
Brandon scratched his forehead and ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “I don’t know – uh, a blue sundress? I’m with Jim. What exactly is going on here?”
“Mr. DeFranco, does your wife wear a heart pendant with a diamond sunburst and an engraving on the back?”
The chair made an unpleasant noise against the floor as Brandon pushed back and rose from it. “How do you know that?” He placed one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. He looked at Jim then at Sam begging for an explanation. “How does he know that?”
Martinez stood and met Brandon’s eyes. “I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you this, Mr. DeFranco but I believe we found your wife’s body this morning.”
Shock carried over him taking his speech and his breath. His body slumped back into his chair. “What the hell are you talking about?” He looked at Jim. “What the hell is he talking about, Jim?”
Jim was just as shocked. “Oh my. Are you sure, Detective? Pam?” he asked shaking his head.
Nodding his head, he turned back to Brandon. “Of course, I’ll need you to come with me to the morgue to officially identify the body but I’m pretty confident it’s Mrs. DeFranco.” He put his head down for a moment, almost ashamed of his next question. “I’m sorry to have to ask you this, Mr. DeFranco, but can you tell me your whereabouts yesterday?”
A dumbfounded glare washed over his face. “Are you kidding me?” He turned to Jim. “Is he freaking kidding me?” Nestling his temples between his thumb and his middle finger, he massaged them before moving in and rubbing his eyes.
Sam jumped up from her seat and placed her hands on the table exclaiming, “He was with me.” She was as surprised at her outburst as Brandon and Jim.
Finally, Jim stood from his seat. “Okay, I think we’re going to stop at this point in time. I’m sorry, Detective Martinez, but Brandon is going to need some time to process all this.”
“Well I’m sorry Mr. West, I need him to identify the body.”
“And I will take him to do that. Brandon, don’t say another word. Detective, we’ll meet you at the coroner,” he said as he grabbed the door handle and nodded for Martinez to exit.
Pausing, Martinez stressed, “It will need to be done now. Request of the coroner due to time constraints, of course.” As Martinez walked out the door, Jim assured him of their attendance and shut the door behind him.
“Christ, Brandon. I’m so sorry.”
Samantha took to his side and placed her hand on his shoulder. “We don’t know for sure it’s her. Do you want me to come with you?”
Brandon pulled away, his tanned face turned pale and he needed hydration. He walked over to the water cooler unable to answer her.
Whispering, Jim said, “Sam, I know you’re trying to help but I’m going to need you here. If it is Pam, I need you to take hold of his assignments and make sure our deadlines are met. He’s certainly going to need it if his wife is laying up there at the morgue.”
Sam sighed and rolled her eyes underneath her Betty Paige bangs. “I want to be there for him, Jim.”
Gently placing his hand on her upper arm in a fatherly manner her assured her, “You will be. That would be a huge help to both Brandon and the Tribune. Right now, I need to help him with Detective Martinez. While we’re taking care of this, get a hold of our legal department. Looks as if we’re going to need them.”
She opened the door to return to her office down the hall, glancing at Brandon with concern on her way out. “Please let me know as soon as you know something,” she asked.
“Of course. And Sam, keep this under wraps. I don’t want any leaks of any kind. When the time is right, we’ll break the
