CHAPTER NINE #2
"Three weeks, maybe a little more.”
“How did she appear during these conversations? What could you tell about her personality?”
He thought about this for a moment and wiped an errant tear from the corner of his eye.
“Well, she was… she was thoughtful in how she wrote.
Not like she was composing something, just—natural, real.
You can usually tell the difference. We talked about everything, work and family and travel.
Music, movies… She told me about her divorce.
I told her about mine. By the time we agreed to meet in person it felt less like a first date and more like a continuation of something that had already started. "
"And the date itself?" Kate said. "Walk us through the evening."
"We arrived around the same time. Sat down, ordered.
We talked for a long time over dinner, mostly the same things we'd covered online but with more depth, more detail.
She had the halibut. I had the short rib.
" He said the last part very quietly, and something moved behind his eyes for a moment before he went on.
"We ordered dessert. I did my damndest to pay the entire check but she insisted we split it.
I walked her to her car. She seemed happy—genuinely, not just politely.
" He looked at the desk again. "She said she wanted to do it again soon.
Friday, we'd talked about. I told her I'd call her and kissed her on the cheek.
" He exhaled slowly. "And that was it. I drove away. She drove away."
"What time did you leave the restaurant?" Sloane asked.
"Roughly 9:30. Give or take a few minutes."
"And after that—you went straight home?"
Godfrey's expression shifted slightly, not with guilt but with the careful consideration of a man making sure he answered accurately.
"No, actually. I didn't go straight home.
" He met Sloane's eyes, looking almost ashamed.
"I was still kind of wound up from the evening.
Good wound up, if that makes sense. I didn't feel like going home and sitting in a quiet house.
So I drove over to Tanley's. It's a sports bar about twelve minutes from my house.
I knew a couple of friends were going to be there watching a game—they texted me earlier in the day.
I stopped in, had a drink, caught the end of the baseball game.
We were there until maybe 11:15… maybe as late as 11:30. "
"And these friends—their names?"
"Matt Devereaux and Tom Curillo. I've got their numbers.
" He reached for his phone without being asked, opened his contacts, and turned the screen toward Sloane so she could read them off.
She entered them into her own phone, just in case.
Though in her experience, anyone who gave this sort of information so willingly was not going to end up being the guilty party.
"And the bar itself would have a record of you being there?" Kate asked.
"Better than that." He tapped his phone screen twice, navigated to an app, and slid the phone across the desk toward them. It was a digital wallet receipt: Tanley's Bar and Grille, dated the previous evening. Timestamp 11:16 PM. Two drinks and a mozzarella stick appetizer.
Sloane photographed the screen with her phone. Kate leaned forward and looked at it as well.
"I'm happy to give you anything else you need," Godfrey said, sliding the phone back.
"Whatever would help." He looked between them, and for a moment the composure he'd been holding onto loosened slightly. "She was a good person. I could tell that inside of about ten minutes. She deserved a lot more than one nice evening and… God, I can’t believe she’d… she’s dead. "
Neither of them replied to that, because there was nothing to say to it that wouldn't ring hollow. Sloane stood and Kate followed her lead.
"We may need to follow up with more questions," Sloane said. "Please don't leave the area without letting us know."
"Of course." He stood as they did and shook both of their hands again, though the warmth of the earlier greeting was gone now. He looked like a man who had just taken a punch to the stomach and was waiting for another one to fall at any moment.
Sloane and Kate took the elevator back down without speaking. The reception desk was empty as they passed it. The lobby doors opened onto the cool gray morning and they walked to the car in silence.
Sloane got behind the wheel and sat for a moment without starting the engine. She ran back through the conversation in her head, checking for gaps, for anything misaligned or off.
There was nothing. The receipt and the two friends cleared him.
Godfrey had given them everything without being asked for any of it.
He had not once looked away, not once offered anything that sounded like it had been prepared in advance.
He had been upset in a way he’d not been able to fully understand.
"He's not our guy," Sloane said.
"No," Kate agreed. "He's not. He’s just as innocent as Carol’s suitor."
“I’ll be honest with you,” Sloane said as she started the car. “I was rather hoping this was it. That for once, we’d wrap it quick and easy.
“That would have been rather tidy,” Kate said.
Sloane started the car, her mind looking for something to lock on. Two dates, two women, two dead ends in the men who had taken them to dinner. There was an X-factor in there somewhere. Maybe the restaurants, maybe the men themselves without even knowing it.
She pulled out from the curb and headed back toward the highway, and she was already starting to feel like this case was moving far too fast.