The press conference at the police station was a rehash of everything they had already printed in the newspaper that day. About a dozen television and print reporters clustered in front of a small podium with the police seal on it. Tommy snapped a few shots of the police department’s press information officer giving the press conference. No suspects at this time. Despite the News running Belinda’s name, the police were not yet confirming identification. Yada, yada, Tommy thought and stifled a yawn. It was going to be a long day.
As she tried to covertly cover her yawn, she caught sight of Detective Kelly standing with a group of officers in the back of the room. He looked fresh as a damn daisy. He caught her eye and winked, making a mock yawning motion. She felt a hot flush crawl up her neck. Damn, he really was cute. Quickly, she looked away. The press conference was wrapping up when she spotted Cameron Parker, who had been standing near the front. He was headed her way so she quickly slipped out a side door to her Jeep. She had nothing to say to him, either.
Sitting at her computer a few hours later, editing some photos for an upcoming Sunday spread on the new football stadium, Parker tried again. Instinctively, Tommy ducked down, slicked some pink lipstick on, and straightened her yellow sundress beneath her even as she was ashamed at doing so. Then, sitting up, she pretended not to see him standing right in front of her.
“Oh, hey, Parker,” she said, acting distracted. “What’s up?”
“Got a scoop for you, Snap,” he said, leaning over her cubical wall with a smug look on his face. “Just got back from the cop shop. Seems that Belinda Carter’s husband flew in today to I.D. her body.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Copped him on a murder rap.”
“Holy crap.” Now, he had her attention.
“Yep. The husband always did it.”
“But I thought you told me he was in New York when she was killed?”
“Apparently, he was in the Twin Cities yesterday and left late last night. When he got to New York, they stopped him at the airport to tell him about wifey-poo. He caught a return flight back. Took the red eye and got here this morning. Now, he’s in the pokey.”
Tommy just raised one eyebrow and waited. Parker wouldn’t need any other encouragement. He was obviously dying to tell her what he knew — in his own special particularly smug way, of course.
“Well, it appears that Mr. Carter filed divorce papers last week.” Parker whipped out a reporter’s notebook from the back pocket of his jeans. “He claimed that Mrs. Carter was mentally ill. He said she was obsessed with having a baby and when doctors told her she could never have children, she went off the deep end.”
Maybe that explained why she took Rafael. Tommy still hadn’t told Parker about the kid. She didn’t want him to make Belinda look bad in the paper. But the cops knew and Martin Sandoval knew, so Parker would find out eventually. He would not be happy she held out.
“So, how does that make him a murderer?” she asked.
“Well, apparently, Mrs. Carter has been refusing to sign divorce papers.”
“He wouldn’t be so stupid as to kill her. That doesn’t make any sense.”
“He might have been motivated to get her out of the picture. Apparently, there is a very impatient lady waiting in the wings to be the new Mrs. Carter.”
“That’s still not enough Parker, and you know it.”
She waited, blowing her breath out. She was tired of Parker’s game, trying to entice her with little tidbits. She was ready for the punch line.
“Just spit it out Parker. Enough foreplay already.” To her surprise his ears grew red at her sexual innuendo.
“Okay, okay. Cops found a text conversation on Mrs. Carter’s phone.”
“They found her phone?”
“Yeah, in the mud on the riverbank.”
“Anyway, it went like this …” Parker flipped through his notebook and read out loud. “From Mr. Carter: ‘You better sign those divorce papers if you know what’s good for you.’”
“Oh my God, it sounds like a bad B movie,” Tommy said.
“Wait, there’s more. Mrs. Carter said, now get this: ‘Over my dead body.’ And, so, of course, Mr. Carter wrote back: ‘That can be arranged.’”
“That’s just stupid marital discord. People say asinine things like that all the time without meaning them,” Tommy said.
“Well, the cops think in this case, Mr. Carter meant it,” Parker said. “Plus, Belinda’s dead body kind of backs that up.”
“I guess.” Tommy looked up, an expression of doubt on her face.
Parker stuck the notebook back in his pocket and started to walk away. “Like, I said, the husband always did it.”
“Another good reason to never get married,” Tommy muttered under her breath.