Page 97 of Pretty Broken Dolls

“We’ll just see what he has to say.”

The president returned with a man in his early thirties, dark wavy hair, suit and tie without the jacket. His eyes were wide and he was obviously confused about why he was being ushered to the president’s office to talk to police.

“Detectives? This is Daniel Harper.” He held the door for the man. “Nice meeting you both.” He shut the door and disappeared again.

“I’m Detective Scott and this is Deputy McGaven. Please have a seat.”

He sat hesitantly in the president’s chair, looking uncomfortable. “What’s this all about?” he said in a quiet voice.

“I’m sorry. This is always difficult,” she said. “I’m sorry to tell you that Darla Winchell is dead.”

“What?Dead?How? When?” His voice became an octave higher as his eyes darted from one detective to the other.

“She was found murdered.”

“Murdered…what…what happened? Did you catch the person?”

“The case is currently under investigation so we are not able to give you details, but we wanted to get some background information from you. Is that okay? You up to it?”

“Uh, yes, of course. I…can’t believe she’s gone.” His eyes welled up with tears, but he was holding them back.

“What was your relationship with Darla?”

“We were friends and co-workers.”

“Did you date?” asked Katie, watching him closely.

“Well…yes, technically, we did.”

“What does ‘technically’ mean?” said McGaven.

“When we first met about six years ago, we flirted a lot and we went out a few times.”

“And?”

“And we felt we are better as good friends,” he said, not making eye contact.

Katie leaned forward. “Mr. Harper, I can see you have feelings for her. Anyone can see that you have feelings for her.”

“So? It’s not a crime.”

“I take it that Darla was the one suggesting that the two of you be just friends.”

“Yes.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“What do you mean? I was upset but I got over it. You don’t think I…”

“Mr. Harper, we’re trying to piece together her life and timeline before the murder to figure out who might have wanted to harm her.”

“I can’t imagine…” He couldn’t finish his sentence.

McGaven shifted in his chair, moving it closer to the man. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt Darla? Someone she had trouble with?”

“No. I can’t think of anyone. She is…was…a great person and everyone loved her.”

“Did she ever confide in you about something or someone that was bothering her?”