As Rogan pulled next to a fire hydrant in front of the Whitmire townhouse, she knew that even her partner suspected that, maybe-just maybe-a cold night at the side of a rural road in Wichita was the real reason why Ellie had been so quick to chalk up Julia Whitmires death to suicide.
But Ellie knew her true motivations. She was being rational. She was acting on evidence, not emotion; on reality, not old memories. Julia had killed herself, and her parents needed to come to terms with that fact.
She noticed the engine was still idling. So are you going to tell me why were here? Whod the Whitmires call?
Everyone, from what I can tell. I did, in fact, get an earful from the Lou. So I asked myself whether we might have missed something.
I know, you told me that on the phone. So what is it? What did we miss?
He turned off the engine, only to turn it right back on. You know what kills me? This is exactly the kind of thing that you would notice. Think, Hatcher. Think about what we saw today.
I know, you told me that on the phone. So what is it? What did we miss?
He turned off the engine, only to turn it right back on. You know what kills me? This is exactly the kind of thing that you would notice. Think, Hatcher. Think about what we saw today.
Are we playing twenty questions? Is it bigger than a bread box? Animal, mineral, vegetable? Oh, wait, I know: its a screwed-up kid in a bathtub. Will you hurry up and tell me before we knock on that door again? Because we better have a damn good reason if were going to disturb that woman just as she probably finished downing her third Valium to try to get some sleep after watching her daughters body hauled away.
Rogan turned off the engine again, and this time took the keys out of the ignition. You were the one who spent the most time in her room, he said. The girl was a junior in high school-a member of her generation in every way, with every gadget in the world at her fingertips.
Yep, every luxury money could buy, and what did it do for her?
He shook his head once again. You still dont see it? Ellie, you really got to get yourself right on this one. He didnt wait for her to get out of the car before making his way to the front door.
K atherine Whitmire started talking as soon as she opened the door. Its about time. The EMTs. The medical examiner. The two of you. Your lieutenant. I lost count of the number of times I heard the word suicide today and the number of people who used it. All of you were lining up to tell me and my husband that our daughter did this to herself. And every single time, I believed it even less. I tried. I begged.
A man came up behind her and placed a protective arm around her shoulder. Im Julias father, Bill Whitmire. Please, come in.
As she took the seat offered in the parlor room adjacent to the foyer, Ellie found herself distracted by the mans appearance. He was more than twice her age, but still handsome with longish salt-and-pepper hair, a strong jaw, and the kind of wear and tear considered distinguished on a man.
But Ellie kept seeing the man hed once been-the man photographed so many times with famous musicians from her childhood, at spots like Studio 54, with then-starlets like Ali MacGraw and Carrie Fisher. He still carried himself with a rock-and-roll edge that looked out of place in this sterile townhouse. Ellie suspected the man spent little time here and had nothing to do with a decorating plan whose only reflection of his personality was relegated to photographs in the elevator.
Im sorry about that outburst at the door, Katherine said, but were just were our daughter-shes gone. And Ive had to spend the entire day on the phone arguing and fighting and twisting arms. But youre back now, right? Youll be listening to what Ive been trying to say? Youll be treating Julias death as a murder?
This was exactly what Ellie had been afraid of. They were getting these peoples hopes up for no apparent reason. She was going to let Rogan handle this one on his own.
We cant imagine what youve been through today, he offered. We want to be absolutely sure that we didnt miss anything before-
Before you shut the folder on my daughter and move on to your next statistic. Bill Whitmire wiped away a drop of saliva that stuck to his lip as hed hissed the words. You write case names on a whiteboard, dont you, Detective? Like on television? Have you crossed her name off the board yet?
Mr. Whitmire-
You say you want to be sure you didnt miss anything, but we all know the first twenty-four hours of an investigation are absolutely critical. Apparently the record producer spent a lot of time watching crime TV. You should be talking to our neighbors and her friends, checking sexual offenders released nearby, doing whatever it is you people do to find whatever monster came into our home and did this.
Uniformed officers had already knocked on the doors of the other townhouses on the street, but no one reported seeing anything out of the ordinary.
She wished Rogan would cut to the chase, but he was still trying to manage the parents expectations. The initial evidence, as we explained earlier today, indicated that your daughter was alone in the bathroom and was the author of the note we found on her bed.
Well, at least this time you avoided the S- word, but I think my wife and I heard the same message enough times today.
Katherine placed a hand on her husbands knee. Please, let the detectives speak. Theyre here for a reason.
Rogan paused before continuing. When we were in your daughters room earlier, I noticed that her homework all seemed to be printed out. Did she usually do her schoolwork on a computer?
Ellie noticed the blankness in Bills face as he looked to his wife for the answer. Katherine nodded. Thats all kids do now. They take laptops to school for note taking. Seems recently she was even getting by just with her iPad. Kids cant even spell or print correctly anymore without a computer there to help them.
So if she had to write a letter of some kind-
She doesnt write letters. No one her age does.
Ellie now saw what Rogan had been trying to get her to realize on her own in the car. Julias suicide note had been handwritten, on paper. And not just written on paper, but drafted on paper, with false starts and crossed-out words.
Julias mother saw the point as well. Julia wouldnt have written that ridiculous note on her bed. Even if you could convince me that my daughter authored that note, I simply cant imagine her putting a pen to paper in order to do it. She would go to her computer. Even if she wanted us to have a handwritten version, shed draft it first on the screen, then write it out afterward.
Thats why were here. The note had scratched-out words and other scribbles on it, like Julia had started fresh, with a blank page, when she sat down to write.
No, not Julia.
What about the paper? The letter was on yellow lined paper, with holes punched on the side. I dont recall seeing a notebook like that when we went through her room. Do you keep yellow legal pads around the house?
This time it was the wife who looked to her husband. No, not to my knowledge, he said.
So that means she didnt write the note. Katherine sounded hopeful for the first time since theyd encountered her. That proves she didnt kill herself.
Ellie finally had to cut in. Its always possible she got the paper somewhere else. Were here because we didnt want to jump to conclusions.
But like his wife, Bill Whitmire had already reached his own verdict. Based on your experience, Detective, do you really believe this scenario makes any sense?
Wed like to take another look around if you dont mind. Rogan was already on his feet, heading for the stairs.
T hey searched through every drawer, cupboard, box, and bag of the four-story townhouse, but nowhere did they find a yellow legal pad matching Julias supposed suicide note.
You mentioned your daughters friends, Mrs. Whitmire. Who knew Julia best?
It was a simple question, but Ellie recognized the look of determination on Rogans face. They were going to rework this case from the beginning, whether she liked it or not, and he blamed her for the crucial hours they had already wasted.
Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
When asked who knew her daughter best, Katherine Whitmire hadnt hesitated. Answer: Ramona Langston. And they wasted no time, heading straight to Third Avenue for the drive to the Upper East Side.
If the day had been about developing an opinion of wealthy Manhattan mothers, Ramonas mother helped clear Ellies palate. Where Katherine Whitmire was cold, aggressive, and uptight, the woman who answered the door at the Langston household came across more like an organic earth-mother type. She introduced herself as Adrienne-first name only. Given the womans long, loose natural waves, Columbia Sportswear pullover, and blue jeans, Ellie could not imagine her fitting in with the other Upper East Side mothers at Casden, the ultra-elite private school where Julia Whitmire and her best friend, Ramona, were juniors.
Even the apartment felt warmer-more lived-in-than the townhouse where Julias body had been found earlier that morning. Whereas the Whitmire house was adorned with Edwardian-era settees that were more impressive than comfortable, this place was filled with oversize sofas, plush rugs, and throw pillows that looked like you could actually use them. By the Whitmires standards, the apartment might even be considered modest.
The man who walked into the living room after Adrienne excused herself to get Ramona seemed startled to see them. Rogan raised his eyebrows in Ellies direction, a signal that he, too, had noticed the mans literal flinch at the sight of a black man in his house.
Hello.
They repeated the introductions they had already made with Adrienne at the front door.
Ah, I see. Im Ramonas father, George Langston. Is it really necessary to pull our daughter into this? Shes having a very hard time understanding whats happened. We finally called in one of her friends to help calm her down. I dont want to get her upset again.
Ellie already had this guys number. Just because your daughter appears calm does not mean she is calm. She knew it was a bad habit, but she couldnt help it: Ellie formed impressions of people immediately upon meeting them. George Langston struck her as a well-meaning but rigid man, both physically and psychologically. He was very small in stature-not much taller than Ellie-but maximized every centimeter of it with perfect posture. Its not that he was unattractive. She could imagine how some women might be drawn to his clear, blue eyes and smooth skin. But to Ellie he looked like he literally had a stick running up his ass, all the way to the base of his skull.