Chapter 20 Kobe #2
“Unfortunately, a majority of the students have gone home for the holiday, so it was quieter than usual.”
“Our killer knew this, too.”
“My guess is, Ford was harder to get alone. His mother claimed he was a homebody. He worked, attended therapy, and stayed in his bedroom. His walks to and from these locations were our perp’s best bet.”
“So maybe it has nothing to do with escalation and more to do with opportunity.”
My partner leaned back in her chair and tossed the pen she’d been gnawing on the desk. “Anything from Fatemeh?”
“You mean besides caustic words and threats to rip my balls off?”
“I hope you played nice.”
“Not exactly, but she wasn’t winning awards for her behavior either.”
“Kobe—”
“Hear me out before you tear me to shreds. First, she made a plausible connection between Navid and Jesse.”
I explained about the drugs, how Navid procured his own stash for personal reasons, how it wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities that he might be providing Jesse with opioids or roofies or whatever the fuck he wanted to sell on campus.
Then, I told Rue about my trip to the college to chat with Buckley.
“She lied to me, Rue. Fatemeh told me that after the divorce, she only spoke to Navid when he was late with her alimony, but according to Buckley, she made quite a scene when she found out her ex voted in favor of Jesse staying in school. That woman made a few pointed and caustic remarks about men during our conversation, too, and as much as I’m sure you’d like to think it was all aimed at me, I didn’t get that vibe.
She knew about Jesse’s reputation from a colleague whose daughter went to school with him.
I didn’t imagine her disgust. It was real. She’s a boiling pot of oil.”
Rue studied me, her expression giving nothing away. Her earlier anger seemed to have simmered, but I waited, letting her decide our next move.
“Are you suggesting we bring Fatemeh in for formal questioning?”
“I’d like to know if she has an alibi for when the two younger men were killed.
We know she didn’t have one for Navid’s murder.
Our puzzle pieces are scattered, Rue, but this woman has a lot of ticks against her.
I wouldn’t mind clearing them up. Not gonna lie, as a proud testicle owner, she makes me nervous. ”
Rue almost smirked. “Aw, poor Kobe. Does she scare you?”
“That woman is fucking jacked. Have you looked at her? She could lay me out without breaking a sweat.”
“Huh. Imagine that. A woman taking down a man twice her size without blinking. How could that be possible?”
“Don’t be a brat. Besides, what other suspects do we have?”
“Gaining Fatemeh’s cooperation may not be easy. We don’t have anything solid on her, so we can’t make a formal arrest. The best we can do is ask her where she was at the time of all three murders.”
I whimpered. “Please don’t make me be the one to talk to her again.”
Rue patted my cheek as she stood. “Mama will take care of it, sweetie. There’s a mountain of surveillance videos to go through and phone calls to make. I’m sure you can keep yourself busy while I’m gone.”
By midafternoon, Rue was en route to H?pital Montfort for an unscheduled rendezvous with Fatemeh Kordestani—hopefully she was still there—while I made phone calls to a few of Jesse’s known cohorts. Reviewing video surveillance was the bane of my existence, so I left it for later.
On a Saturday this close to Christmas, luck was not on my side. Everyone on the list was out of town or not answering their phone. It didn’t help that Jesse was a social butterfly. The list of acquaintances we’d compiled was long and daunting.
Rue returned several hours later and dropped onto the seat at her desk, seeming irritable—or rather, irritable for Rue.
I raised a brow. “And?”
“Fatemeh provided an alibi for this past Thursday when Ford Carrigan was killed. She was at dinner with a colleague. I confirmed she arrived at the restaurant at six forty-five, which is technically close enough to our window that we can exclude her. She doesn’t have an alibi for Jesse’s murder.
Claims she was at home sleeping. Alone.” Rue shrugged.
“Dominique could be off with the time frame.”
“Maybe.”
I wasn’t willing to dismiss her so easily. Something about Fatemeh bothered me.
“What do we do now?” I asked, checking the time on my phone. “Everyone we want to talk to has either gone home for Christmas or isn’t answering their phone. Reviewing surveillance is going to take hours, and it’s already close to five.”
“This is a terrible time of year to work a homicide. People are off routine and busier than usual. Look at this place.” Rue swept a hand, encompassing the bullpen. “It’s a ghost town, even here.”
“Are we convinced our killer is going to kill again, or is he or she finished?”
“No idea. Unless we can wrap this up quickly, only time will tell.”
I couldn’t help thinking about the girl who had gone to see Yates three years ago and how she’d implicated Jesse.
It seemed like everyone and their dog could confirm the guy had a deplorable reputation.
Was this girl seeking revenge three years later?
Were Navid and Ford party to the assault?
Was our killer finished? A fourteen-year-old girl would be a seventeen-year-old girl today.
Trauma had a way of compounding itself, hibernating in the closet of your mind, growing toxic with each passing day, only to surface when you least expected it.
Could this be the work of a revenge-seeking teen?
“Kobe.” My partner’s voice shook me from my thoughts, and I blinked back to the present.
“Yeah?”
“Go home. Come in tomorrow and we’ll start from the beginning, chart everything, and see if we can’t find a new direction.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice.