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“Tell me, what were you thinking about what Inez said?”
“Oh, well, I could be way off, but from what you described, she said he leaves every evening as soon as Bridgette does. She thought he was going up to her room, but he said he’s only in the office, and when she went up there to catch him yesterday, he wasn’t up there.”
“Pete, I know all of this already, get to the point.”
“What if she’s only half right?”
“Hmm? I don’t follow.”
“What was Bridgette doing yesterday before she was murdered? Picture the room, the way she was dressed…”
“It looked like she had just come from taking a bath or shower. Her work shirt was thrown across the bed…she got undressed in the room almost as soon as she went in if Inez has her timing correct. I don’t…” She started to say she didn’t get it but then something about the way he was looking at her clicked.
“You think he has cameras in the room.”
“I mean, think about it. He isn’t there physically, but he keeps disappearing every single time; what else can it be?”
“Why didn’t I think of that? Call Andy get him in there right now before Dale has a chance to remove them. Good thinking, Pete.”
It made sense, and she probably would’ve gotten around to thinking something like that at some point if all else failed. She felt a bit of excitement rush through her at this turn of events. Pete hung up the phone after making the call, and he, too, was looking a little better than he had just moments before. “You know what, if what we’re thinking is true, we might even get a look at the killer.”
They rode that high all the way up in the elevator to Ryan’s room. He’s set to be released in the morning once the last of the drug had worked its way out of his system, and then he was going before the judge for his bail hearing.
Ryan was sitting up in the hospital bed, wondering what the hell had gone wrong in his life and why shit could never go his way. He’d always tried to live clean, to do the right thing, but somehow life was always kicking him in the ass. He looked up at the sound of the cops entering the room, and one look at Pete’s face made his heart sink. They knew. He’d avoided this topic because he never wanted to revisit it again, but from the look on both their faces, he knew the jig was up.
“Hello, Ryan!” He looked at the detective but didn’t answer. Celia motioned for the cop on duty to leave the room and took his seat while Pete stood at the bottom of the cot. “Why didn’t you tell us about your daughter?” Ryan took the hit to the gut and bit back the pain that always came with the memories.
He looked away from Detective Sparks and out the window as visions of his little girl flitted through his head. “What difference does it make? What does that have to do with this?” No one said anything; just let him get his thoughts together. “What do you want to know? Isn’t it all written there?” He pointed at the papers in her hand and turned away once again.
“I’d like to hear it from you.” Ryan took a deep breath and tried to breathe around the pain in his chest. It had been a while since he thought about his daughter and the way she’d been taken from him. He closed his eyes and let the memories come, knowing she wouldn’t let up until he gave her what she wanted. “I got a girl pregnant my first year in college, Janine. She never told me, just disappeared from school one day.”
He gave a short, condescending laugh. “She was green as a stump; first time away from home. We hadn’t even been on campus a good two weeks yet when we hooked up.” Ryan shook his head at the thought of his wayward youth and how irresponsible he used to be once upon a time.
“I was a bastard back then, playing the field, a new girl in my bed every night, you know how it is. Hotshot football star, women were just throwing themselves at me. I didn’t question her sudden disappearance, didn’t even care, to tell the truth, she was just one of many.” Ryan took another deep breath and carried on with his story.
“My last year, I was contacted by a lawyer. Janine was sick, and she wanted me to know about my daughter before she died. Her parents didn’t want that, but she went around them and got the lawyer. My kid was almost five years old at the time.”
Celia’s brow furrowed at this. “I know what you’re thinking; the math doesn’t add up. By then, I already knew I wasn’t going to play professional ball like I’d dreamed of; a busted knee took care of that. But I’d already turned my focus to coaching, so I worked my ass off to get my masters in one year instead of two. That’s why it was my last year of college when she contacted me and why my kid was already five.”
