Speak No Evil

“We became friends immediately.” Steve sat military straight, hands clasped in front of him.

“When did you become romantically involved?” Carina asked.

“In December.”

“How did it happen?”

Steve tensed. “Why does that matter?”

“Anything, no matter how small, could be relevant.”

Steve glanced down at his hands and Carina couldn’t help but wonder if he was trying to come up with a believable lie. “She asked if I wanted to get together one weekend. I said sure. I thought she meant go out for a date.”

“What did she mean?”

He paused long enough for Carina to prompt him again.

“She wanted to be ‘friends with benefits.’ ”

Carina had heard about such “special” friendships. Friends who had sex but no emotional or permanent attachment. An open relationship. Angie had written about several “friends with benefits” relationships in her journal, including hers with Steve. Carina would be a failure at that sort of arrangement. She loved sex, but it meant little without an emotional commitment. Maybe she was a romantic at heart, but the idea of an eighteen- year-old being so nonchalant about meaningful relationships made Carina sad.

“And what did you want?” she asked Steve.

“I wanted what Angie wanted.”

Carina didn’t believe him. “So you were okay with the relationship.”

“More or less.”

“I don’t think you’re telling us everything.”

“It’s not important.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do!” he said, his fists clenching. “This isn’t about me, it’s about Angie. I didn’t kill her. I keep saying it and you don’t believe me.”

Dillon interjected. “You and Angie had a sexual relationship that you wanted to be exclusive, but she didn’t.”

“But that makes it look wrong, or like I would want to hurt her because we didn’t want the same thing.”

Dillon continued. “Steve, what we want is the truth. Sometimes the truth shines a light on things that you know nothing about.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a long minute. “Yes, I cared a lot about Angie and I didn’t like having an open relationship. I was monogamous, but Angie wasn’t comfortable with that. She thought we should both be seeing other people.”

“And did you and Angie break up because you couldn’t agree on the type of relationship you wanted?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then why?”

“I discovered her journal and confronted her.”

“What was her reaction?”

A faint tic pulsed in Steve’s cheek. “She told me to lighten up.”

“And then she broke up with you, correct?”

He nodded.

“Please answer for the tape, Mr. Thomas.”

“Yes, she broke up with me the next day. But I understood. It hurt, but I understood.”

“Understood what?” Carina asked.

“Angie needed attention from men. Her father skipped town when she was young. Used to promise to visit, never made it. The last time she saw him, she was thirteen. He didn’t come to her, she ran away and tracked him down in San Francisco. With his new wife. He didn’t want children, never had, and told Angie that.

“She was devastated. She lost her virginity when she was fourteen to a nineteen-year-old high school senior and just fell into that cycle.”

“So you think she slept with you because she wanted to sleep with her father?” Dillon asked.

“No! She slept with me-and others-because she wanted to feel love. She equated sex with love. And I-” he stopped.

“Go on,” Dillon prompted. “What did you get from your friendship with Angie?”

“I thought I could help her.”

“If you showed her love then maybe she wouldn’t think it had to come with sex, too.”

“Exactly!” Steve’s face lit up. “We were making a lot of progress. Until the journal fiasco. I didn’t handle that right at all. Maybe if I’d done something differently, said something more supportive, didn’t argue with her-I don’t know.” He sank his face into his hands.

“What prompted Angie to get a restraining order against you?” Carina asked.

“I don’t know why she did it, except she was scared. Not of me,” he continued quickly, “but of other things going on.”

“But she got the restraining order against you,” Will interjected. “No one else. She was scared of you.”

“She wasn’t scared of me,” Steve insisted.

“You fought with Angie on January 19 at the Sand Shack in front of witnesses,” Will said. “What was that argument about?”

“After I discovered her journal online, I was worried about her. I started monitoring the page and the comments because she was really going too far, even engaging in conversations with some of these guys. The night before our fight there was a comment that really disturbed her. She called me, accused me of posting it to scare her. I, of course, said I didn’t. I’d never purposefully scare her.”

This was the first they’d heard of Angie contacting Steve after the breakup. It would be easy enough to check through her phone records, which they already had a copy of.

“What did the comment say?”

“I don’t know, she said she deleted it after she read it.”

“And that was what day?”

“January eighteenth, I think.”

“What disturbed her about that comment?” If it was worse than the comments she’d kept online it must have been violent or personal.

“He knew something about her. That’s why she thought it was me.”

“What did he know?”

“Where she worked.”

Carina and Will glanced at each other. “He said that?”

“I didn’t read it, but Angie basically accused me of trying to expose her and scare her. The next day I went to talk to her, to convince her it wasn’t me, that I would never hurt her, and, well, it was a big fight. I told her to go to the police, give them the information about the person who scared her. She didn’t want to tell anyone about her journal. I told her she was going to end up dead if she didn’t watch herself. Her pal Kayla convinced her that I was the threat. It wasn’t me. It was never me. That’s why I started following her.”

“You followed her on the Friday she disappeared. Why did you lie to us about going to the Shack twice that night?”

“I didn’t want to admit that I had been following her. It looked bad. Believe me, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d look at me as her murderer. I didn’t want you to have a reason to, because I know I’m not guilty and if you looked at me, you wouldn’t be looking for the real killer…“ his voice trailed off. “I was stupid.”

“You also lied about how much time you spent reading her journal,” Carina said, putting her hands on the table and looking him in the eye. “You flat-out lied to us two days ago. We know you’ve spent more than forty hours on her journal.”

“I told you, I was trying to protect her. She didn’t want me around, so I had to watch her any way I could.”