A policewoman sat beside Ashley. There were other officers in the McCluskey home. Logic told Ashley that the man who had murdered her father and her best friend was long gone. She also knew that she would fear his return every minute of every day as long as he was at large.
The police had set up barricades on either side of the Spencer home to keep away the neighbors and the reporters who stood behind them, staring at the officers moving through Ashley’s yard and in and out of her house. Every once in a while, the short, intermittent bark of a siren would signal the arrival of another police vehicle that was working its way through the crowd. Ashley paid no attention to anything that was going on outside. She had too much going on inside her head.
The policewoman stood up. Ashley caught the motion out of the corner of her eye and jerked back violently. She was holding the mug, and tea splashed on the tablecloth. A man was standing next to her. She had been so self-absorbed that she hadn’t noticed him enter the kitchen.
“It’s okay, Miss Spencer. I’m a detective,” he said, holding out his identification. The detective’s voice was calm, and he had a pleasant face. He was dressed in a brown tweed jacket, gray slacks, and a striped tie. Ashley had only seen detectives on TV, and he did not fit the stereotype. He wasn’t handsome or rugged-looking. He just seemed ordinary, like her teachers or her friends’ parents.
“May I sit?”
Ashley nodded, and the detective took the chair the policewoman had vacated.
“My name is Larry Birch. I’m with Homicide and I’m going to head the investigation into…into what happened at your house.”
Ashley was touched by the detective’s consideration.
“We’ve called your mother and she’s on her way home. She’ll probably be here by dawn.”
A wave of sadness overwhelmed Ashley as she pictured the life her mother was about to lead. Her parents were still in love. Sometimes they were like teenagers, displaying a closeness around her friends that often embarrassed Ashley. What would Terri do now?
Birch saw Ashley’s chest heave as she fought to control her tears. Gently he placed his hand on her shoulder, then went to the sink and returned with a glass of water. She was grateful for the kindness.
“I’d like to talk about what happened tonight,” Birch said after a moment. “I know that’s going to be rough for you. If you don’t want to discuss it, I’ll understand. But the more I know, the faster we’ll be able to arrest the person who did this. The longer I have to wait for information, the better the chance that this man will get away.”
Ashley felt sick. So far, no one had asked her to discuss her ordeal in detail. She did not want to remember her father covered in blood or Tanya’s screams. She wanted to forget the sound of the intruder’s shuddering orgasm and the way he’d eyed her from the doorway of her room. But she owed it to Tanya and her father to help the police. And she wanted to be safe and would only feel safe when Detective Birch caught the monster that had destroyed her family.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything you remember. For instance, who was in your house tonight before everything happened?”
“Dad was home and Tanya was with me. Tanya Jones. Is she…?” Ashley asked, irrationally hoping that her friend had somehow survived.
Birch shook his head. Ashley started to cry again.
“She was my best friend,” Ashley said with such despair that the detective had to fight to keep his composure. “We were teammates.”
“What sport?” Birch asked to distract her.
“Soccer. We both played varsity for Eisenhower and we started for our club team. The team is doing really well. We have a chance to get to the Regionals in Hawaii. Tanya’s never been to Hawaii. She was really excited.”
“She was good?”
Ashley nodded. “She scored the winning goal today. Her mom said she could sleep over. That’s why…why she’s dead.”
Ashley’s shoulders shook, but she choked back her tears.
“We fell asleep,” she continued after a moment. “I know it was around one. Then I woke up. He was in the room.”
“What did he look like?” Birch asked.
“I don’t know. It was dark. He never turned on the lights. And he was wearing dark clothes, a ski mask, and gloves.”
“Could you tell his race? Was he Caucasian, African-American, Asian?”
“I don’t know, really.”
“Okay, what about height? How tall was he?”
Ashley thought about that. Most of the times she’d seen him she had been on her back and he’d seemed like a giant, but she knew the angle had distorted her perspective. Then she remembered that she’d been standing when the killer shot her with his stun gun. She closed her eyes and pictured the scene.
“I don’t think he was very tall, like a basketball player. I’m five-foot-seven. I’m pretty sure he was taller than me.”
“All right. That’s good. That’s something.”
Birch made a note on a small spiral notebook he had opened.
“Can you tell me the color of his eyes?” he asked next.
Ashley strained to remember but it was no good. “I saw them but it was dark and…” She shook her head. “I can’t remember the color.”
“That’s okay. You’re doing fine. Tell me what happened after the man entered the room.”
Ashley told Birch how the killer had used a stun gun to subdue her and Tanya and how he had beaten and bound them before taking Tanya into the guest room. Then she described the sounds that told her that Tanya was being raped, then murdered.
“Did he do anything to you after that?” Birch asked quietly.
“No. I was certain he would but he didn’t. Not then. He would have. I know he would have. But he…he…”
Ashley shuddered.
“What, Ashley? What did he do?”
“He went down to the kitchen. I couldn’t believe it. He’d just raped her and killed her. I could hear it. And he went to get something to eat. How could he do that?”
“How do you know he ate something?” Birch asked, working hard to hide his excitement.
“I heard the refrigerator door open. Later I heard a dish clatter on the table.”
“Okay, Ashley. This could really be important. You know what DNA is, right?”
Ashley nodded. She watched detective shows and read crime novels. And they’d covered genetics in biology class.
“We can get a person’s DNA from bodily fluids like saliva. If he ate some food in your kitchen he may have left something on a fork or a glass. Now let me ask you, was anyone at your house last night other than you, your friend, and your father?”
“No.”
“And you ate dinner at home?”
“No. There was a pizza party to celebrate our win. My dad came to the game, ate with us, then took Tanya and me home.”
“Did you, Tanya, or your father eat anything at home?”
“I don’t think Dad did. He’s on a diet. Mom would have been pissed that he ate three slices of…”
Ashley stopped. It was too much. Mom was always getting upset when Dad sneaked a cookie or a bowl of ice cream. Now her father was dead and there would never be any more playful bickering about his diet.
“I know this is going to be tough for you, Ashley,” Birch said after an appropriate silence, “but I’d like you to come back to your house…”
Ashley looked up, alarmed.
“You won’t have to go anyplace upstairs. Just the kitchen. I have to know if you can identify something this man ate, or a glass he drank from, a utensil he used. If you can, we may be able to get him. Do you feel up to it?”
Ashley nodded. It was a chance to do something. The policewoman was Ashley’s size. Detective Birch asked her to give Ashley her heavy coat and to pull a car into the McCluskeys’ driveway. He wanted to protect Ashley from the elements and the press.
When the car was as near as it could get, Birch led Ashley out a side door. A few reporters noticed the exit but Ashley was in the car before they could bother her. The policewoman turned on the bubble lights and used the horn and siren during the short drive to the Spencer home.