Chapter 8
The next morning, I met Sam and Gus in Gus’s new war room dedicated to the Ellie Luke murder. Sam had cleared a space in the office next to his. It had taken two days, but every box of evidence from Ellie’s case had been pulled up from the basement. Gus had laid it all out on two tables.
“That was rough yesterday,” I said to Sam as he handed me a steaming cup of coffee. It was strong, crappy, and I inhaled it.
“The media already knows too much,” Sam said.
“You’ve got a leak,” I said.
“It might not be us,” Sam said.
“What difference does it make now?” Gus said.
He stood at a third table, laying out photographs.
I walked over to him. One by one, he fanned out the crime scene photos.
There wasn’t much to them. Ellie Luke’s remains were nothing but bones.
Though it was clear to see how she’d been positioned against that tree.
Legs crossed at the ankles, hands linked together in an almost prayer pose.
I picked one up. It had been taken after the ME moved the body. A blue gloved hand pointed to a massive defect at the back of Ellie’s skull.
“Did you find anything of value off your search warrants yet?” I asked.
“No,” Gus said. “It’s gonna take some time for BCI to go through the phones and computer. But I don’t expect any real surprises.”
“We can’t know that,” Sam said. “Simmons has probably gotten lazy … comfortable after all this time.”
“We have this,” Gus said, handing me a photograph. It was a close-up shot of the ground near the base of the tree where she’d been placed.
“What is this?” I asked, although I knew. I’d seen it before.
Gus picked up an evidence bag from the second table. He handed it to me. Inside was a single earring. A flat hoop with little heart-pattern cutouts.
“That was found at the scene twenty-two years ago,” he said. “It looks like a match for the one in Simmons’s treasure box.”
“And there’s this,” Sam said, pulling another photograph. It looked like a yearbook photo. Ellie’s senior year. She wore her hair up. Those same gold hoop earrings dangled from her ears.
“She wore them a lot,” Gus said. “Her favorite pair. Her mother provided other photos of her wearing them. We only ever found the one at the scene.”
“You’re sending these to BCI as well?” I asked. “Will they be able to determine if they really are a match?”
“I’ve got an agent en route,” Gus said. “Hopefully, they’ll come up with something conclusive.
They’ll test the underwear and the lock of hair.
Though it looks cut, not pulled out at the root.
Not sure they’ll be able to extract any DNA.
She colored her hair. I bagged one of her hair brushes back in the day. They’ll be able to compare.”
“Good,” I said. “That’s really good.”
“Detective Ritter?” Maggie, one of the civilian clerks, poked her head in. “I’ve got those tapes you wanted.”
Maggie walked in holding a flash drive. She handed it to Gus.
“Everything’s labeled in separate files,” she said.
“Thanks,” Gus said. He had a laptop sitting on one of the tables. Maggie excused herself and he slipped the drive into the side port. A moment later, the file menu populated. Each file was labeled with a name. A witness.
“I videotaped every interview,” Gus said. “God. I don’t even remember interviewing Jamie Simmons. I just went through every name of the people she was in class with. A few people her parents said she hung around with.”
Gus pulled up a folding chair. Sam and I did the same. Gus pushed the laptop further back so we could see it. He connected two speakers into another port and pulled up the file on Jamie Simmons.
A moment later, the screen filled with a shot of the interview room just across the hall. After twenty-two years, it scarcely looked different. The image was grainy, an overhead shot. The camera was placed on the ceiling in the corner of the room.
A skinny kid walked in. Simmons. He had a full head of blond hair back then and wore track pants and a Chicago Bears tee shirt.
A moment later, Gus walked in. It was strange to see him like that.
Twenty-two years ago he would have been thirty-four years old.
Younger than I was now. He was a bit trimmer.
Had more color in his face. But it was like Caro said.
Gus had probably looked like a middle-aged man since he was eighteen.
“Thanks for coming down,” Gus said on the screen.
“Oh, of course,” Simmons said. His voice was higher-pitched then. Possibly a function of his youth or the quality of the playback. It might have been nerves but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Gus said. “I understand you and Ellie Luke were friends.”
“Good friends, yes,” Simmons answered.
“When was the last time you saw her?”
Simmons sat with his hands folded on the table.
Rod straight, it was more the posture of someone sitting in class.
Still, I don’t know that it would have raised any suspicions in me at the time.
Being brought in for questioning by the police would be nerve-wracking for anyone. And his friend had gone missing.
“Um … I wanna say it was three days ago. What is this? Sunday? We have an anatomy class together on Thursdays.”
“Did you talk to her that day?” Gus asked.
“Um … I mean, sure. We talk when we see each other. It’s not a very big class. Ellie sits right in front of me.”
“Do you remember what you talked about?”
Simmons shook his head. “Nothing unusual. I can’t remember specifically. We had a test coming up that I was stressed out about. We all were. It’s a tough class. I think we talked about the material.”
“Did she tell you her weekend plans?”
Simmons shrugged. “I just don’t remember that. She might have. But Ellie didn’t really have much of a social life. None of us do right now. We’re so busy with school. Plus, she works weird hours. She’s got her CNA license.”
Gus hit pause, then rewound. He played back part of Simmons’s statement.
“But Ellie didn’t really have much of a social life.” He hit pause again.
“He’s talking about her in the past tense,” I said. “You interviewed him before you found Ellie’s body?”
“I interviewed everyone before we found Ellie’s body,” he said. “I should have caught that.”
Sam reached for the keyboard and pressed play. A second later, Simmons said, “She works weird hours. She’s got her CNA license.”
“I wouldn’t have caught that,” Sam said. “He talks about her in the present tense right after.”
“Jamie,” Gus said on the tape. “What was Ellie’s mood like in class the last time you saw her?”
“Her mood? I don’t know. She was … she’s just Ellie. She’s a serious girl, you know? Pays attention in class. She’s there to learn. She’s not … frivolous. There’s no drama with her.”
“Gotcha,” Gus said. “So nothing seemed unusual? She wasn’t acting any different from what you observed?”
“No. I mean, she didn’t seem upset. Or distracted. Nothing like that. Nothing that would have made me ask her what’s wrong. Not that I’d really be the one she’d tell something like that to. We’re friends, but not close, close friends.”
“I see. Did you talk to her after class on Thursday?”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Jamie, do you know if she was dating anyone?”
Jamie put his hands flat on the table. “I don’t know. Not that she told me about.”
“Would she have?”
“I don’t know. I mean, I would probably have heard about it.
Everybody’s friends in our cohort. If Ellie hadn’t mentioned it herself, I think I would have heard if she was going out with somebody.
As far as I know, she wasn’t. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t.
You know? Like if she had somebody she wanted to keep secret. ”
“Would that have been odd? Her keeping a secret like that from your group?”
“Kinda. I guess. Gosh. I’m really sorry if I’m being vague.
I’m not trying to be. I just mean if she was starting to date somebody new and didn’t want to tell anyone yet.
I’m just saying I wouldn’t have found that odd.
But I’m really just speculating. I have no reason to think Ellie was dating anybody new.
I’m sorry. I’m really trying to help in any way I can. ”
“I appreciate that,” Gus said. “And you are. What about enemies? Do you know of anyone who maybe had a beef with Ellie? Anyone she didn’t get along with at school?”
“No, sir. Not that I know of. It’s like I told you. Ellie’s just … Ellie. She doesn’t cause drama. She’s serious. She’s … she’s like an old soul. She’s the one people go to when they need advice. She’s like everybody’s school mom, you know?”
“I appreciate that. It’s helpful. We’re almost done. I promise. Jamie, did Ellie ever talk about any drama at home?”
“What, like with her parents? Not that I remember. No.”
“Any other family members?”
Jamie pursed his lips and shook his head. “Not that … hmmm … I’m not sure. I’m trying to think. She gets along with her folks, I think. She has a brother, maybe?”
“Just a sister,” Gus said. “Has she mentioned a cousin to you?”
I felt my pulse quicken. Beside me, Gus leaned far forward in his chair, almost as if he were trying to push himself through the screen.
“A cousin? Hmmm. Maybe.”
“Have you ever seen this guy around Ellie?” Gus asked on screen. He laid a photograph on the table. I couldn’t make it out, but I could guess who it was.
“Hmm.” Jamie Simmons picked up the photograph. “Maybe,” he said. “Yeah. Maybe. You think Ellie doesn’t like him?”
“Do you think she told you that? She told you she has an issue with her cousin?”
“Christ,” Gus said beside me.
“Maybe,” Jamie said on screen. “Yeah. I think so. He’s some kind of loser, I think. A troublemaker?”
“Dane Fischer,” Gus said. “Did she ever mention him to you?”
“I think so. It sounds familiar. But like … not something she wanted to talk about a lot. Just … I got the impression he was causing her some stress. I didn’t pry.
I didn’t think it was any of my business.
Did he do something? Do you think this guy hurt her?
God. I know Ellie. If this guy was causing trouble, then he has to be a real loser.
Ellie doesn’t have issues with anybody. Like I told you.
I wish I could remember more. I just don’t. ”
“It’s okay. I appreciate what you’ve told me so far. I know you probably have to get to class. We’re done for now.”
“If you think of anything else I can do. Please call me,” Jamie said. “I want to help. Do you … Detective … is she dead? Do you think Ellie’s dead? Do you think this Dane guy hurt her?”
“I can’t say, Jamie. But I will reach out if I have any other questions.”
There was a knock at the door. Gus stood up, obscuring Jamie from the camera.
Gus shook Jamie’s hand and excused himself from the room.
Jamie Simmons didn’t immediately stand up.
He put his hands flat on the table again and hung his head.
He took a deep breath and exhaled. Almost as if he were relieved about something.
Then the screen froze as the recording stopped.
Gus bolted out of his chair beside me and kicked it halfway across the room.
“Gus!” I said.
“I bungled that interview. Christ. I put Dane Fischer in his damn brain. He fed him right back to me and I didn’t even see it. That was rookie shit.”
“Gus, you can’t beat yourself up,” Sam said. “You had nothing connecting Jamie Simmons to this. Not then, and not now, if it weren’t for what Hayden found.”
“I didn’t ask him where he was the night Ellie went missing,” Gus said. “I didn’t even ask him that!”
“He wasn’t a person of interest,” I said. “You were just trying to get a picture of Ellie’s last days. Sam’s right. There was nothing about Jamie Simmons that would have tripped your radar. Anyone’s radar. Not then.”
“I showed him a goddamn picture of Dane Fischer. It was in my mind. Her parents told me Fischer made threats. There was a restraining order. I had tunnel vision.”
“You were following the leads you had,” Sam said.
“If I were in the room with Simmons, I’d have done the same thing.
You’re being too hard on yourself. Yeah.
You were green. Was it the best interview I’ve ever seen?
No. Was it a Gus-Ritter-of-today interview?
No. But it wasn’t bad. This isn’t on you. ”
“Isn’t it?” Gus said.
Maggie poked her head in again. “Gus, I’m really sorry. I’ve got Agent Willis from BCI on the phone for you. You want to take it in your office?”
“Yeah,” he muttered. He looked back at the laptop. For a moment, I thought he might throw it through the window. But he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, stabbed his arms through it and headed down to take his phone call.
Sam stood with his hands on his hips, head down. “Mara,” he said. “How bad was that?”
“If I play it at trial?” I asked. “It’s nothing.
It’s like Gus said. He doesn’t have him commit to an alibi or anything.
I think it’s neutral at best. Nobody’s going to look at that and think oh, there’s definitely a killer.
But they’re not going to think he’s innocent from it either. My bigger worry is Gus.”
“What do you mean?” Sam looked at me.
“I mean … he’s got to get his head straight. Whatever self-flagellation he wants to do … he needs to get it out of his system quick. If he takes the stand like that …”
“He’ll be fine,” Sam said. “Better than fine. He’s solid in that witness box. You’ve seen him.”
“I know,” I said.
“Do we have enough?” Sam asked.
“To convict him? Not even close. Hopefully BCI will be able to tie those things in Simmons’s treasure box to the crime scene. Even then … twenty-two years is a long time.”
“We’ll get there,” he said. “But we’re arresting him in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Good,” I said. “Let me know when he’s in custody.”