“So Dwight must have called me because he had Jerry’s assailant on video,” Laurie said.
Reilly was shaking his head, fast-forwarding through the video. “I doubt it. He saw the assault for the first time three nights ago and has replayed it multiple times since. He would have called you earlier. But here.” He slowed the tape. “This is the segment Dwight watched right before he called you.”
Laurie immediately recognized the scene from yesterday: Keith, Madison, and Nicole, side by side on the living room sofa, discussing the day Susan was killed. Reilly played the interview to its end and then paused it. “It looks like he kept replaying the very end. Is there some reason he’d be interested in that scene?” Reilly asked.
“I have no idea,” Laurie said. “He wasn’t really friends with any of them apart from Susan. I’ve got to ask, Detective Reilly. If you have colleagues searching Dwight’s computers, are they certain Dwight’s death was an accident?”
“No. If anything, it looks like the scene was staged to seem accidental. They found traces of bleach throughout the entire interior of the boat, and according to the medical examiner’s initial inspection, the nitrogen levels in his tissue are inconsistent with having scuba dived that night. The current theory is that he was already unconscious when his body hit the water.”
“Could this be more of Steve Roman’s crime spree?” Laurie was thinking aloud, wondering if Roman would have a reason to go after Dwight. “The alternative is that Dwight knew something about one of the other suspects.”
“That’s our theory,” Reilly said, “especially if he figured it out as he was watching the end of this video. I thought you might realize its significance.”
Laurie shook her head. What are we missing? she thought.
The buzz of Laurie’s cell phone broke her concentration. She wanted to throw the thing across the room until she saw that the call was from Rosemary Dempsey.
“Hi, Rosemary. Can I call you right back-”
“Are you watching the news? They’re saying that Dwight Cook is dead. And now there’s a warrant out for some man named Steve Roman, and it has something to do with the attack on Jerry? Are we in danger? What in the world is going on?”
66
Steve Roman rocked back and forth, shirtless, on the motel bed.
His name was all over the news. The police would be monitoring his credit cards as they searched for him. The second he heard his name on the car radio, he made a quick cash purchase on the streets of South Central L.A., then found a fleabag dive willing to accept cash for a room, no ID necessary. He counted the remaining bills in his wallet. Twenty-three bucks. Not much he could do with that.
A used-car ad blared at him from the crummy television set on the dresser. He flipped the channel in search of more news about his arrest warrant. He halted at the sight of a familiar face. It was Martin Collins, standing in his front yard in a throng of reporters.
“It has come to my attention that the LAPD is searching for a man named Steve Roman. Some of you have already gleaned from the Internet that he is a member of Advocates for God. I founded this church a quarter century ago. In that time, Advocates for God has gone from a car full of good people willing to help the downtrodden, to thousands of believers who sacrifice every day to help their fellow man. I do know Steve Roman and truly believed he had reformed himself through the healing power of God’s goodness. But I’ve been speaking with the police, and, unfortunately, it seems that a disturbed individual found his way into our flock. But that shouldn’t reflect on our group as a whole. Our church is doing everything within our power to apprehend this criminal.”
“Reverend Collins,” a reporter called out. “We have sources who say the arrest warrant for Steve Roman is related to the attack this week on a producer for the show Under Suspicion. They are in town covering the Cinderella Murder. What is the connection between your church and the unsolved murder of Susan Dempsey?”
Martin placed his hands on his hips, as if this were the first time he had really contemplated the question. “It’s not my place to speculate about the motivations of a sick mind. But our best guess is this person-obviously ill at some level-was making a misguided attempt to protect Keith Ratner, another AG member who has been unfairly under suspicion all these years in the death of his former girlfriend. That’s all I have for now, folks.” He gave a friendly wave and retreated into his mansion.
Steve pulled on a white undershirt, warming himself as the air-conditioning unit rattled in the wall beneath the motel window. A disturbed individual? Criminal? Ill? Misguided?
Steve had always done whatever Martin asked of him. Yet now Martin was selling him out, feeding into the worst stereotypes of their church, for his own benefit.
Steve clenched his fists. He felt old impulses rising in his blood, the way he felt when that neighbor found him in Rosemary Dempsey’s yard, when the production assistant had surprised him in the house in Bel Air. He needed a punching bag. He needed to run.
He left the motel room, checking first that no one was watching. He made his way through the parking lot to his pickup truck and then popped the glove box.
He retrieved his newly purchased nine-millimeter. It was small for his hands, but it had been cheap. He tucked the gun in the back of his waistband.
He had made some mistakes in recent weeks, but that was because Martin Collins had treated him as an errand boy. He was feeling levelheaded now. He was in charge.
67
Laurie’s first instinct was to rush to the hotel after Rosemary’s panicked phone call. This woman, whom she’d convinced to trust her with her daughter’s case, had learned the news of both Dwight Cook’s death and an arrest warrant being issued for Jerry’s attacker from the television. Laurie owed her an in-person update.
Alex insisted on coming with her, while Leo stayed at the house with Timmy and Grace. “Alex, thank you for keeping an eye on me,” Laurie said once they were in the hotel lobby. “But I think I should speak with Rosemary one-on-one.”
“No problem,” Alex said. “I’ll check in with hotel security to make sure they’re on the lookout for Steve Roman.”
Outside Rosemary’s hotel room, Laurie heard the muted sounds of a television. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Rosemary answered immediately.
“Laurie, thank you for coming. I’m so afraid. I don’t understand what’s happening. Yesterday it was that whole scene at the house with Susan’s friends. I can’t believe Nicole, after all these years, never told me about that fight. And now Dwight Cook is dead? And the police think this man who attacked Jerry, who’s on the loose, is connected to Advocates for God? Now I’m wondering if I was right all along: maybe Keith Ratner is behind everything-Susan’s murder, the attack on Jerry, now Dwight.”
On the television screen behind Rosemary, Laurie spotted Martin Collins at an impromptu press conference in front of his house.
“Hold on,” she said. “Can you turn up the volume?”
“It’s not my place to speculate about the motivations of a sick mind,” he was saying. “But our best guess is this person-obviously ill at some level-was making a misguided attempt to protect Keith Ratner, another AG member who has been unfairly under suspicion all these years in the death of his former girlfriend. That’s all I have for now, folks.”