Ghost Days, page 8
“His partner.”
A quick glance at his notebook, a page flipped, then flipped back. “We were told that was simply an employee at Red Kite National... there was no partner mentioned.”
Garza shook her head. “No, I mean, she was... like his wife, but they weren’t married. They lived together, though.” That was right, wasn’t it? She could’ve sworn one of them had said as much. “They were a couple.”
Elver looked at Rais, who gave him a responding look that Garza couldn’t translate.
“Ahh,” Elver said, “all our evidence shows that Mr. Oakhill lives alone.”
“That’s... not right.”
She tried to remember the explanation they gave. Work functions, parties, the appearance of normalcy...
“The people at his work would know. They’ve, she said they met her.”
“No one we spoke to at Mr. Oakhill’s bank mentioned anything about a wife.”
“She’s not his wife,” Garza said.
Elver held up a hand in apology. “Partner. Regardless of what you call her, this is the first we’re hearing of a ‘Christine Parrish’ in his life. Or any woman, in fact.”
Her heart was pounding frantically. “I don’t understand.”
“How do you know this Miss Parrish?” Elver asked.
“She picked Saul up on Thursday. The first Thursday, anyway. And she was there when we made our arrangement.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry. This is all very confusing. Can you tell me how he died? When he died?”
Another silent conversation passed between the sergeant and constable. “He was found last night by one of his neighbors. Coroner’s report indicates he was dead for about twenty-four hours before that.”
“What’s suspicious about that?” she said.
Rais said, “The blunt force trauma to the back of his head.”
Garza barely stopped herself from throwing up. “He was murdered?”
“Why did you think we’re here talking to you?”
“I don’t---” She put her elbows on the desk and covered her face with both hands. “I can’t even process the fact he’s dead. He was murdered? Who would want to murder him?”
“Nice guy?” Elver ventured.
“Not particularly,” Garza said. “Kind of an asshole, honestly. But... a bland one. I can’t imagine him making anyone angry enough they’d want to kill him.”
“Maybe he had something they wanted.”
Elver suggested it so casually that Garza almost didn’t register it.
He had someone I wanted.
“Am I a suspect?”
The officers looked at her in unison. “Why would you be a suspect?” Elver asked.
“I don’t know. You’re here. Talking to me.”
“You were the last person to see Mr. Oakhill alive,” Elver said. “And you took him to Calgary twice, brought him home twice. That’s as far as our interest here goes. For now.”
Garza tried to ignore the ominous weight of the last two words. If she hadn’t been a suspect before, she absolutely was now. Elver stood up, prompting Rais to do the same. Garza decided she should stand as well. He extended his hand.
“Thank you for your time, Miss Garza. We’ll be in touch if we need anything else.”
She picked up one of her business cards and handed it to him. “Any time. If I’m on a job, there’s a messaging service I use.”
“Thank you kindly,” Elver said, pocketing the card.
She watched them go, waving as Elver did a three-point turn to get back to the road. As soon as they were off the property, she ran to her desk and picked up her phone.
She immediately put it back down. She’d just given the police permission to look at her phone records. It wouldn’t look great if she frantically started calling Saul’s number the second they left. She drummed the fingers of one hand on the desk, chewing the thumbnail of her other hand as she tried to think of what to do.
She couldn’t take any flights. She’d cleared the afternoon to be with Parrish anyway, but she couldn’t imagine being in the air if more news came in or if Parrish showed up to help explain what the hell was going on.
Saul was dead. Murdered. Murdered. And no one had ever heard of Parrish? How was that possible? But she suddenly realized that if anyone asked her for evidence the other woman existed, she wouldn’t have anything to show them. A baseball manager who could be anywhere in the province now. That mechanic she flirted with in Edmonton? He would definitely remember her, but she couldn’t even remember his fucking name now. Todd? Thomas? Travis? There was no physical evidence--
The panties.
She jumped up and ran through her house. Fear crept into her mind, dread that she would look and they’d have mysteriously vanished. She got to her bedroom, yanked back the blanket, and flipped the pillow over.
Parrish’s panties were there.
Garza dropped heavily onto the mattress. She picked up the underwear and held it in both hands, staring down at the cotton like it was a holy talisman. She supposed, in a way, that was exactly what the panties had become. Proof she wasn’t crazy. Proof that something bizarre was definitely going on, and Christine Parrish had been here. Was somewhere out there. For now, that was enough to keep her from climbing the walls.
And it freed her mind to worry about the actual mystery. Where the hell had she gone?
***
Sergeant Elver returned around four that afternoon. Garza tried not to look too eager, to desperate for information, but she felt like he wouldn’t have come all the way out to the airport unless there’d been a sizeable development in the case. He looked apologetic when she opened the door but there was a hardness behind his eyes that told her this was all business.
“Sergeant,” she said. “Tell me you tracked down Christine Parrish.”
“Afraid not,” he said. “We did confirm with the taxi company that Mr. Oakhill was picked up here and taken to his home. The driver didn’t report seeing anyone waiting for him when he was dropped off. And we went ahead and spoke to Mr. Oakhill’s neighbors. They’re as baffled as we are. If we could get a description of her--”
She nodded. “Oh. Sure, uh. She’s pretty distinctive. Australian accent. White-blonde hair--”
“Ah.” He held up a hand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean now. I’m actually here to ask if you’d mind coming down to the station with me. We have a few more questions we wanted to ask.”
Garza frowned. “I can... uh, wh-why can’t I just answer them now?”
“It would be better if we spoke at the station,” he said. “Just for the formality of it.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “What’s... Why?”
“We found what we believe to be the murder weapon.”
She watched his face. “What, it has my fingerprints on it or something?”
“It does.” She blinked in surprise, but he kept going. “It also has something else.”
She held her breath.
“Miss Garza, your name is literally written on it.”
Chapter Nine
Tuesday, still
Garza sat in a small closet with a table, two chairs, a little table with a carafe of water and two glasses. She couldn’t find a comfortable way to sit. Her hands kept shaking. Her right foot kept wanting to bounce. She felt positive Elver was doing this on purpose, making her stew and overthink and panic and worry. He’d barely said anything on the drive to town, going only so far as to be polite. But the message was clear: he wasn’t a friend, and this wouldn’t be a casual conversation like the first one they’d had in her office.
Elver finally came in. He was carrying a transparent plastic bag which he dropped heavily onto the table before taking his seat. Erika looked at it, immediately recognizing the wrench within. It was the one from her kitchen, the one she’d put on the table when Parrish suggested damaging the plane so she couldn’t go get Saul. She couldn’t remember if she’d put it away or not.
Most damning thing was the GARZA written in black marker on the handle.
“We found that in a ditch not far from Mr. Oakhill’s home. I have to assume it belongs to you.”
There was no point in denying it. “It looks like the one I keep in the kitchen.”
“Have you ever visited his house, Miss Garza?”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know where he lives.”
“We asked a few of the neighbors about you as well,” he said. “You’ve got quite a unique look, so we thought maybe someone would recognize you.”
She looked at him, startled. “I was never there.”
“No one remembers seeing you there,” he confirmed, consulting a notepad. “But you claim someone was living there that the neighbors had also never seen. So maybe they’re not the best witnesses.”
Her panic cleared enough for one word, one idea, to manifest itself. “I think I want to call a lawyer now.”
Elver nodded as if he’d been waiting for that. He reached into his pocket, took out a dime, and placed it on the counter. He left his finger on the coin so that when she went for it, he slid it back.
“I’m going to be upfront with you, Miss Garza. I would be very surprised if you did this. But you’re being evasive. You’re not telling me everything. That makes me nervous. And until I have those questions answered, I’m going to have to keep looking at you.” He pushed the coin back toward her and stood up. “Come on, I’ll show you where the phone is.”
She took the dime and stood up.
Elver stood as well. As soon as he did, his expression twisted, like someone who had just realized he’d lost a chess match. “Ah hell.”
Garza frowned. “What now?”
He held his hand flat above her head and moved it toward himself until it touched just below his chin. She raised her eyebrow at him.
“Mr. Oakhill was my height,” he explained. “Give or take a little. That blunt force trauma I mentioned? On the back of his head?” He gestured to his own skull. “It was a downward blow. Unless he was sitting or kneeling, which the coroner doesn’t believe based on how he fell after the blow, you couldn’t have done it.”
“So I can’t be a murderer because I’m short?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re capable,” Elver sighed, “but I highly doubt you did this one.”
“You don’t have to sound so disappointed.”
He smiled, and suddenly he was the friendly uncle again. “I still have questions I need answered. If you still want a lawyer here...”
“I think it would be best.”
He gestured for her to follow him out of the room.
The payphone was at the end of the hall, in a small wooden case that also included a phone book. She found the number for a lawyer - Anna Singh - and dialed. As it rang, she flipped through the book to the Cs, scanning the page. Paget, Painter, Park, Partridge... no Parrish. Flipping back to the Os, she almost immediately found Oakhill. She made a note of the address, just in case, as the phone was answered.
“Anna Singh and Associates, how can I help you?”
“Hi. I’m Erika Garza. I guess I need a lawyer.”
***
Anna Singh arrived three minutes after Garza hung up the phone. She wore a dark red suit, her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, and moved like she would smash through a wall if one happened to get in her way. Garza had gone into the main room to sit with Rais, and Singh spotted her immediately. She crossed the room to her seat, turning to speak to Rais.
“Where’s Sergeant Elver?”
“His office.” Rais started to rise. “I’ll--”
“We’ll be in the interrogation room. We’re not to be disturbed.” To Garza, she said, “Erika Garza? Anna Singh. Come with me.”
Garza didn’t believe it was a request, so she stood and followed. Singh held the door for her, then followed her inside and shut the door behind them.
“Tell me everything. Leave nothing out.”
Garza said, “I’ve told them everything.”
Singh shook her head. “Clearly not. I know Elver. If you told him everything, you wouldn’t still be sitting here. So I need the whole story, including the parts you’ve been holding back because they’re embarrassing or incriminating. I’m on your side, and everything you tell me is completely confidential.” She sat down in the seat Sergeant Elver had previously used. “Start from the beginning.”
Garza sat down. She scratched her head, then started to speak. She gave a description of meeting Oakhill and Parrish, then hesitated before going to the next part. She had to trust someone, and this woman had the power to get her out of the sergeant’s crosshairs.
“That night, Christine Parrish came back to the airport and suggested an affair.”
Singh looked up from her notebook. “She thought you were having an affair with Mr. Oakhill?”
Garza cleared her throat. “No, she... she wa-wanted, she... meant with me. She wanted to have an affair with me.”
“Oh.” She sat up straighter. “I see. How did you respond?”
Garza’s face felt hot. “I... accepted.”
Singh’s face was completely unreadable. “Okay.” She made a note. “Go on.”
“You... you, uh, want details about--”
“That won’t be necessary,” Singh said. It was the first time Garza had seen her lose her composure. “So you and this Christine Parrish began a, um, physical affair. This continued into the following week?”
Garza nodded. “We were together while Saul was in Calgary. When he went back last week, Parrish spent those three days with me.”
She continued to explain coming back with Saul and Parrish’s failure to appear.
“Did anything happen that final day?”
Garza tapped her fingernail on the table, reluctant to get into declarations of love with this stranger.
“I’m beginning to see why Sergeant Elver is so frustrated by you.”
Garza sighed and leaned back. “I told her I loved her. She didn’t say it back, but she... I-I didn’t need her to. It wasn’t about that. I know how she feels about me. And... ah...” She ran her hand through her hair. “They have a wrench.”
“A wrench?”
“It has my name written on it. It’s mine, from my kitchen. I use it to work on the pipes when there’s a problem. They found it near the crime scene.”
“Do you have any idea how it got there?”
Garza chewed her bottom lip. “I gave it to Christine.”
Singh raised an eyebrow.
“She made a joke about disabling my plane so I couldn’t go get Saul. So we could have a few more hours together. I left it on the dinner table. I didn’t notice it was gone when I came back because I never really think about it. It’s probably been over a year since I used it.”
“Okay,” Singh marked something down.
“Elver said he doesn’t believe I did it.”
Singh didn’t look up. “Then he probably means it. He doesn’t lie just to trick suspects. But if he has questions, it’s best to answer them. You, Miss Garza, presented him with a woman he doesn’t believe exists and a wrench that may have been used as a murder weapon ending up at his crime scene. You are nothing but questions with no answers. And unless you’re willing to tell him about your extracurriculars with this Christine Parrish, we’ll have to find a way to settle his curiosity without giving everything away.”
“I don’t--”
“Don’t worry about it,” Singh interrupted. “That’s what you’re paying me for. Is there anything else you think I should know before I bring Elver back in here?”
“Christine Parrish exists. I can’t prove it, but I know I didn’t imagine her. I couldn’t have just imagined anything about that woman.”
Singh nodded. “Okay. I don’t think we have to convince him of that, but I’ll keep it in mind. Stay here.”
She left the room and returned a moment later with Elver behind her. When she sat down, she took the other chair on Garza’s side of the table. She faced the sergeant.
“I think we can wrap this up quickly and save my client some money. You have questions about the wrench, correct?”
Elver still hadn’t finished sitting down. “Uh. Yes.”
“Miss Garza confirms the wrench is her property, but she will state on the record that she hasn’t used it in more than a year.”
Garza said, “Oh. I don’t know about... on the record...”
“To the best of her recollection,” Singh corrected herself. “It could have been taken from her home at any time during that period and ended up being used for any manner of crimes.”
“Someone broke into her house and the only thing they took was a wrench?”
“Are you certain that could never happen, Kyle? You’ve seen my client’s house. Did you see any valuables that would have enticed a burglar? Maybe someone broke in, was frustrated by the lack of potential, and took something random just to make it worth his while.”
He started to respond, then turned it into a sigh.
“I’d call that reasonable doubt,” Singh said. “Now, as to your other point of interest that she’s...” She checked her notes, then gave Elver a pitying look. “Too concerned about someone else’s safety?”
“Someone we can’t confirm even exists.”
“Maybe she’s private. Maybe she found Saul Oakhill with his brains bashed in, so she packed a bag and decided to take a vacation. Miss Garza is prepared to testify under oath that she met Christine Parrish on multiple occasions. Are you convinced we won’t be able to track down one person who can confirm her existence?”
Elver leaned back in his chair.
Singh ran her eyes over the notepad. “You seriously had her bring me in for this? You should be ashamed, Kyle. Is this all you have? Can she go?”
Elver fixed his eyes on Garza, staring so hard she started to worry he could see her thoughts. She didn’t know how to react to his attention, so she just stared back. She tried not to blink. Finally he sighed and looked away.
“Do you have a way to get home, Miss Garza?”
“I can take her,” Singh said, checking her watch. “If I’m going to charge her for a whole hour, I can at least be useful.”
