Page 17 of She Didn’t See It Coming

Jayne watches the dead woman’s parents weeping in each other’s arms. Sam appears to be in shock, and Lizzie is silent, staring wide-eyed.

After a respectful interval, Jayne continues. “This has now become a homicide investigation. I promise you we will do everything we can to find out who harmed Bryden. You can help by cooperating with us.” She pauses. They all look back at her through their numbness and grief.

“Of course we’ll cooperate,” Sam says at last, his voice shaking. “We want to find out who did this.”

“Good,” Jayne replies. “First of all, we will need you to leave the apartment while the forensics team does a thorough investigation. And we will need all of you to be digitally fingerprinted, for elimination purposes. We can have that done now. Is there anyone else who visits the apartment, other than Paige and Angela? A cleaning lady? Anybody else?”

Sam shakes his head. “There’s no cleaning lady. Angela often brings her daughter.” He adds, “And her husband comes over sometimes too.”

Jayne nods. “We will have to get them fingerprinted as well, although I understand he’s away on business. They should be finished here by the morning, and you can return then.” She adds, “I suggest you find a hotel close by. It’s only for one night.”

Lizzie speaks up tonelessly. “I can arrange the hotel. We could get a suite,” she says to Sam, “with two rooms, and I can stay the night and help with Clara. We can’t expect Angela to keep her all night.” She adds, “I’ll take Mom and Dad back to my place.”

Jayne watches as Sam nods, as if in a trance.

She says to him, “I know it’s getting late, and you must be exhausted, but we’d like to have you identify the body and bring you down to the station, now, Sam, and talk to you there.

We’re hoping you can help us.” He looks even more shaken at the prospect of having to identify Bryden.

“I’ve been thinking and thinking,” Sam says brokenly, “but I don’t know anyone who would hurt Bryden. Unless it was some sicko who got into the building, or who already lives here.”

Jayne and Kilgour wait for Sam to pack an overnight bag while Lizzie packs one for Clara and goes to retrieve her from Angela’s. She will take Clara with her to drop her parents off at her own place. She says she will text Sam the hotel information.

Sam comes with them willingly enough. They’re badgered by reporters and photographers shouting questions and taking photos as they leave the condo building through the front doors on the way to their car on the street.

The media knows they must have found something—they saw the K-9 unit van, and they will have seen the forensics van pass by and go into the underground garage.

And now the husband is being taken away by the detectives for questioning.

It will be all over the news soon enough.

Jayne calls the head of the forensics team from the car and gives him the go-ahead to examine the apartment too.

First, they go to the nearby morgue, where Sam Frost identifies his wife’s body, breaking down in sobs when the sheet is lowered from her face.

Then they take him to the station, entering through the back entrance.

He appears shell-shocked. They escort him to an empty interview room and sit down across from him at the table.

“I hope you don’t mind, Sam, but we’d like to record this interview, if that’s all right with you,” Jayne says.

Sam looks startled. “Why?”

“It’s just standard procedure,” Jayne assures him. “You’re here voluntarily, and you can stop this interview at any time and leave if you wish, okay? Do you understand?”

He nods. “Yes.”

Jayne tries to put him at his ease, leading him through questions about how he met Bryden, how long they dated, when they got engaged and married.

She asks him about Clara, how their lives changed when they became parents.

He gradually seems to get over his shock and, though obviously shaken, answers all her questions willingly and straightforwardly.

She doesn’t pick up on any problems between them.

Certainly nothing Sam is admitting to. Now she must move into more difficult territory.

“So, you and Bryden were faithful to each other? No affairs ever?”

“No, of course not. Neither of us was interested in that,” Sam says firmly.

“What about arguments about money?”

“No, I’ve told you. We’re comfortable. We have two good salaries, our student debt is paid off. We’re saving to buy a house, but money isn’t a source of stress.”

“Does either of you have life insurance?” Jayne asks.

“Of course we do. We have a child. We both have life insurance policies.”

Jayne nods. “I know this is very difficult,” she says, “but I’d like to show you a photograph of the closed suitcase, if that’s all right with you?

” He looks terrified at the idea, but then he nods reluctantly, rigid in his chair.

She opens a file on the table in front of her and picks up a photograph of the suitcase.

It’s a large, hard-sided, burgundy Samsonite, a common brand.

She places the color photograph in front of him on the table. He looks down at it and blanches.

“Do you recognize this suitcase?” she asks.

He swallows and says, “That looks like mine.”

Jayne observes him calmly. “Where do you normally keep your suitcase, Sam?”

“In the closet. In the walk-in closet that Bryden and I share.”

“I see. And it’s not there now, is it?”

“I, um, I don’t know. This one looks just like it.”

“I asked you earlier if anything was missing from the apartment and you said no.”

“I didn’t think anything was missing. If the suitcase wasn’t there, I probably wouldn’t have noticed. I don’t know.”

She says, “The forensics team has already confirmed that there is no suitcase matching this description in the apartment now.” Sam looks increasingly nervous. “Sam, how do you suppose your suitcase got into the storage locker?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need a key, don’t you, to access the storage area?”

“Yes, I guess so.”

“You guess so,” she repeats.

“Yes, you need a key.”

“And where do you keep that key?” she asks. He swallows again. She watches his Adam’s apple move up and down.

“It’s on my key chain.”

“Do you have your key chain with you now?” she asks.

He nods and reaches into the pocket of his jeans for his keys. “This one is for the storage room, and this one is for our own locker,” he says, separating them out. His hands are trembling.

“Who else has keys to the storage area?”

“Everyone who lives in the building has keys.”

“Did your wife have keys to the storage area as well?”

“Yes. She kept them in one of the kitchen cupboards.”

“Do you know if those keys are there now? Have you seen them since Bryden went missing?”

He shakes his head. “No. I haven’t looked.”

Jayne says, “Let’s take a break and find out.

” She pauses the tape for a moment and suggests Kilgour get Sam a coffee as she exits.

A short phone call confirms that the keys are in the kitchen cupboard where they belong.

She returns and resumes the interview. Sam slumps in his chair, sipping coffee.

“Bryden’s keys to the storage room are still in the kitchen cupboard. So how do you think the killer got inside the storage area?”

“Like I said, anyone in the building would have keys,” Sam says, visibly sweating. “Anyone from the building could have knocked on our door, attacked her. And then found my suitcase in our closet and taken it down to the storage area and used their keys.”

Jayne nods thoughtfully. “It might have been someone who lives in the building. Or the person who murdered her might have come in through the underground garage.”

He clears his throat and says, “You need a key card to get into the parking garage.”

The detective says, “Unless she buzzed them in.”

“She wouldn’t just buzz someone in that she didn’t know,” Sam says.

“Exactly,” the detective agrees. “We think it’s possible she knew this person.

That it was someone she trusted.” There’s a moment of silence.

“We’ve already got the record of everyone who used their key card to get into the underground garage that day,” the detective continues.

“You didn’t use yours till you came home with Clara.

But you could have asked Bryden to buzz you in.

You could have told her you lost your card. ”

“I didn’t!”

Then she says, “Sam, you said earlier that you were at work all day, except when you stepped out for a while around lunchtime. Let’s talk about that.”

“Am I a suspect?” he asks, his voice sharp with fear.

She tilts her head at him. “I’m afraid at this point everyone who knew Bryden is a suspect. We just have to eliminate you from our inquiries. We can do that if we can establish with certainty where you were at the time Bryden was murdered.”

He looks at her fearfully. She watches him, waiting.

“As I told you, I went out for lunch, alone, around noon. I got some takeout from a food truck called Gino’s and sat in Washington Park. I didn’t get back to the office till about two.”

“Why is that, Sam?”

“It was a nice day for a change. I wanted to get out of the office.”

She observes, “Nice for March, you mean. Still a bit chilly to sit on a bench that long.” She pauses. “That’s a bit of a hike from your office. How did you get there?”

“I drove.”

“I see. Where did you park your car when you were at the park?”

“On the street.”

“Which street?”

“What difference does it make?” Sam bursts out, clearly frustrated.

She explains. “We want to be able to confirm, if we can, that you were at that park at the time you say you were. So where, exactly, did you park your car?”

He stammers. “I—I don’t know the name of the street. It’s on the, the north side of the park.”

Jayne knows that park; she lives nearby. Not much likelihood of any CCTV coverage there, but they’d check.

“Did anyone see you?” she asks.

“The people at the takeout place saw me. I was there at about twelve ten, twelve fifteen. I got a BLT and a Coke. I paid with a credit card.”

“Okay. Did you talk to anyone at the park?” He shakes his head. “Speak up for the tape, please.”

“No.” Then he blurts out, “I didn’t kill her, I swear.” He looks at her, naked fear in his eyes. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“That’s really up to you,” she says.