Martinez sat at his desk recounting the earliest part of his investigation in his first report. He looked at his watch. It was after one o’clock and still no word from Brandon DeFranco. As he finished typing, Shawn walked in and sat at his desk across from the partition separating them.
“What’s up man? Heard you had a crazy morning.”
Looking up from his computer screen, Martinez nodded.
“Oh, come on. What, no dirty details for me?”
Still angry from their last encounter, Martinez lightly blew him off. “I’m just trying to get some stuff done, man.”
Throwing his hands up Shawn said, “Okay, okay. It’s cool. I get it.” He turned away to face his computer.
Martinez shot a suspicious look Shawn’s way. His wheels were spinning again. He pulled up his email and proceeded to write to Investigator McMurphy asking for more information regarding the email he never received, when his phone rang.
“Hey, Martinez. I have Brandon DeFranco down here, says you wanted to speak with him?”
“Thanks Alexander. I’ll be right down.” Hanging up the receiver, he saved the draft to his email and placed the password protection on his computer screen. He headed down the back stairwell that led to the police station lobby, where Brandon stood waiting for him.
Putting out his hand he said, “Mr. DeFranco, thank you so much for coming. Again, I am so sorry considering the circumstances.”
Brandon refused his handshake. “Save the formalities, Detective. Can we just get on with it? I still have to arrange my wife’s funeral.”
“Of course. My apologies.” Martinez led him into a five by eight foot interview room with two chairs and a table in between them. The walls were stark and cold. He shut the door behind them and the two men took a seat across from each other.
With his pad and pen in his hands, Martinez began going over his notes. “So, when we spoke this morning, Mr. DeFranco, you advised that you had not seen your wife since your court appearance yesterday morning, is that correct?”
Giving a head nod, Brandon kept a straight face. “That is correct.”
“About what time did the two of you leave court?”
Rolling his eyes in thought, he answered, “Maybe around 11:30.”
“When you left the courthouse, where did you go?”
“I went straight to work.”
“Did your wife tell you where she was going?”
“She said she was going home.”
“So, you didn’t talk to her again for some time that day?”
“Nope.”
“You said she sent you a text later in the evening?”
Leaning back in his chair, he sighed. “She text me around 8:30 saying she was going to her sister’s house for a few days.”
“And you were still at the Tribune at this time?”
“Yes, I had some hours to make up after being in court for a bogus charge.”
He looked back at his notes for a moment. “And you say Samantha Brown was there with you, correct?”
“That is correct. Sam and I were working on a project together.”
“Was any one else working late that night?”
“Not that I recall.”
“And what time did you leave?’
“Actually, right around 8:30. We were packing up when Pam text me.”
“Where did you go after that?”
“Sam and I went back to her place to grab some food and continue working.”
“What did the two of you have to eat?”
Brandon rolled his head back to stretch out his neck and flung his hands on the table out of frustration. “Oh, come on, Detective! I did not kill my wife! I loved her. I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“Well you do have two pending charges against you for doing just that, Mr. DeFranco.”
The anger was building and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his composure. “Those are bullshit charges and you know it. My wife and I had a fight. Couples do fight. It got a little out of hand but I did not put my hands on my wife. I wouldn’t, I couldn’t do anything to hurt Pam.”
“So tell me, Mr. DeFranco, who would want to hurt your wife?”
Elizabeth placed the last dish in the dishwasher, closed it tight, and hit the on button. She turned around and leaned her back against the sink, gathered her blonde hair over one shoulder, and adjusted the bikini string around her neck. “I just don’t get it. I read Marilyn’s recommendation. What could he have possibly done in the past six years that justifies an early release? I mean, I get to deal with posttraumatic stress for the majority of my adult life, because of him, and he gets to skip out on 2 years? For what? Taking a few anger management classes over the years and proving he can be an ‘upstanding citizen’ in prison, of all places?”
China finished wiping down the island counter top and putting away the extra food, periodically looking at Elizabeth and nodding her head to show she was paying attention and understood her pain.
She waved her hands like a little Italian grandmother as she spoke. “We all know the prison system is a joke. There is no rehabilitation for these people. They send them away with these unrealistic expectations that they can mold them into contributing members of society by caging them like animals, forcing them to comply and conform, only to let them loose with felony records, completely unemployable, not to mention pissed off at the world, and their only recourse is to turn to the life that sent them there to begin with! Only this time, they get better at doing it.” Taking a breath, she paused to fill her wine glass and take a sip.
Raising her glass to toast the absurdity, China said, “Welcome to the American criminal justice system.” She grabbed the bottle and headed out to the patio.
Following behind, Elizabeth continued, “I just don’t understand the bullshit psychology behind it all. It’s no different than what we deal with everyday. Countless offenders and victims walking through the revolving door we call Silverton Municipal Court. The system doesn’t have any answers or solutions. It does nothing but continue to place cheap Band-Aids on an infected, seeping wound.”
China placed the bottle of wine on the shelf hanging on the side of the hot tub and slowly climbed into the jet-propelled water. She made herself comfortable and pulled her hair back, twisting it and clipping it up in a barrette. “I completely agree with you, Liz, but that cheap band aid is our job security, unfortunately.”
Sighing at the harsh reality, she pursed her lips. “Tell that to Pam DeFranco’s family.”
Taking a sip of her wine and placing her glass on the shelf beside them, China spoke frankly. “Look, I know you’re having a hard time with all of this, I mean, anyone would have a hard time with all the news you received today, but there’s nothing you can do now about Pam. You just gotta ride this one out, Liz. Tell me I’m cold or harsh or what-have-you; this is one of the many hazards of our job. The one thing you can do something about is prepare yourself for Steve Robinson’s release.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Prepare myself? Really, China?” She flung her arms over the side of the tub and shook her head from side to side before resting it on the plastic blow-up pillow, gazing at the stars above them. “You’re right. I need to prepare.” Maybe it was the warm, red wine clouding her perception. Maybe it was the water temperature of 100 plus degrees. Maybe it was a little of both that made her sit up and declare, “Can you give me one of your guns?”
A tad put off by her request, China replied, “Look, far be it from me to be the logical one, but don’t you think you may want to start with renewing your protection order?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Because that has helped so many people in the past. Come on, China. Where is this mystical voice of reason coming from?”
“I’m just saying, maybe you want to look at other options.”
“I told you before, he doesn’t have the address to the lake house. He’s never been there. I get a protection order renewed, he knows right where to find me!”
“I still don’t understand why you need to put your address on a protection order,” China said with disdain.
“Well, China, because if you try and prosecute someone for being somewhere they aren’t supposed to be, they actually have to know where exactly they aren’t allowed to go.” She sighed in disgust.
“Oh, I’m sorry Miss Attorney Lady. Forgive me for my ignorance.” She rolled her eyes again and topped off her wine glass.
Elizabeth immediately felt bad for her ridicule. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Yes, you did. Whatever.” Slumping into the tub a little further to massage her neck, China flung her bangs out of her eyes and quickly changed the subject. “Have you heard anything from Martinez?”
“Radio silence. Not that I blame him. I acted like such a spazz last night. So embarrassing,” she said shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
“I almost forgot! You never did get to fill me in on all that. What happened?”
As her friend recounted her dream and the events that followed, China’s eyes grew wide with concern. “Damn, Liz!”
“Exactly! I mean, we ended up having a nice evening but it was still a little awkward, for me anyway. Ya know? I – I just don’t know. It felt so good waking up to him but then after he left, my mind began to race and I pictured the worst.”
“You know, I once heard that when women get hurt, it actually leaves a scar on their brain. Not on the heart, but on the brain.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows inched closer together out of confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“No, wait! I’m not kidding! When we get hurt it leaves a ring on our brain, like trees that grow rings as they age.”
“Where on earth did you read that?”
In a matter-of-fact tone she said, “I didn’t read it, I heard it on the radio.”
Elizabeth couldn’t contain her laughter this time.
“Liz, I swear to you!”
“That is the most absurd thing I think I’ve heard in a while.”
“No, think about it; look at how it affects us when we get hurt as opposed to most men. We’re like devastated after a break up and they seem to move on with the speed and agility of a freaking super hero. On to the next conquest,” she screamed as she laughed at her own words.
Looking to the star lit sky for a moment, Elizabeth gave it a thought. “I think there are some men out there who would disagree with you.”
“Okay, maybe. Still, my point is you have scars on your brain, Liz. Your brain, your heart, whatever. Scars fade with time. But don’t fool yourself into believing every man you encounter is going to treat you like Steve Robinson did. You can’t let Martinez pay for something someone else did to you. That’s not his burden to carry.”
She looked into China’s brown eyes, knowing she was right.
“Just call the man.”
Martinez walked into the bureau bright and early. He was clean-shaven and rested, looking more handsome than rugged. Shawn was sitting at his desk. Upon making eye contact, Martinez sat at his station without saying a word. Deciding to break the ice, Shawn spoke first. “So, what are you doing here on a Saturday morning? I thought the chief only worked me like a dog,” he said with a sideways grin.
Looking up from over his computer screen, Martinez looked back down in silence.
Shawn was growing frustrated. He threw his hands up in the air before landing them on his thighs. “Look, man, I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I don’t know what happened, Martinez. Seriously. Chief’s been all over my shit about this damn heroin epidemic and I was rushing around that morning...”
Pulling away from his computer, Martinez pushed his chair back from his desk and sat with a cautioned look on his face, ready to hear out his colleague.
The lines in Shawn’s face were remorseful. “I swear, I’m sorry.”
Shaking his head, Martinez caved. “Look, this isn’t all on you. You were right, I should have handled it myself.”
“Naw, I told you I had your back. I should’ve come through.” Pointing his finger at him he promised, “But I’m gonna make it up to you!”
Smiling, Martinez said, “Alright, you up for a little good cop bad cop?”
He laced his fingers, cupping his hands in his lap as his eyebrows shook devilishly. “That’s what’s up.”
Excited, he stood from his seat and walked around to Shawn’s space, leaning his buttocks against the desk. “Okay, so, Brandon DeFranco?”
Shawn nodded his head and rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, that one,” he said shaking his head with a disgusted look on his face. “We pulled his wife’s body from the lake yesterday morning.”
His eyes were wide with intensity. “Whaaaat? Get the hell outta here?”
“So far, he has a strong alibi. It seems pretty solid. Claims he was with a co-worker, a sexy co-worker at that, Samantha Brown. She’s coming down this morning to ‘confirm’ his story that she was with him at her house.”
“Okay, I’m with ya...”
“Well, the thing is, it’s just not washing for me. He was just arrested a few nights ago and the wife got a TPO, kicked him out of his own house, right? So, the day before we find her, he claims she sent him a text at 8:30 PM saying she was going to her sister’s house to stay for a few days. Knowing this, he leaves work at around the same time and goes to Samantha’s house for the evening to work some more. That make any sense to you?”
Tilting his head back a bit, Shawn didn’t need to think about it long. “Well, if my wife kicked me out of my house for a few days, then text me to let me know she was leaving for a while,” pausing, his eyes squinted and he bit his bottom lip. “I think I just might be ready to chill on my own sofa and sleep in my own bed as soon as I could, work or not.”
“Exactly. That is unless the sexy co-worker’s bed is better. And if it is, we just may have a little motive.”
“So, what time is this sexy little number supposed to be here?”
“She should be downstairs any minute now.”
Excited, Shawn jumped out of his chair. “Let’s do this! I get bad cop right?”
Martinez shook his head and headed out the door, Shawn following behind him. As they reached the end of the stairwell and opened the heavy door into the police lobby, Samantha was coming in from the main entrance. She was wearing a tight, black V-neck shirt showing just enough cleavage and a pair of khaki Capri’s.
Whispering to Martinez, Shawn said, “Da-yum!”
Reaching out his right hand, Martinez greeted her. “Miss Brown, thank you so much for coming down. This is Detective Johnson. He’ll be joining us today, if that’s okay with you?”
She smiled, her semi-crooked teeth peering through her dark mauve lipstick. “It’s no problem. Anything to help Brandon out. Please, just call me Sam.”
After being shown to the interview room, Martinez took a seat across from Sam setting his notebook on the table. Shawn remained standing off to the side in order to gauge her facial expressions and step in when he felt the need.
Martinez placed the recorder on the table and pressed play. “Obviously, this conversation will be recorded as per our policy.”
She nodded her head, placed her iPhone on the table next to his recorder and began to record as well. She winked at him. “I have my own policy.”
Shaking his head in response he turned to Shawn, “You good with that?”
Before Shawn could answer, Sam stated matter-of-factly, “It’s my Constitutional right, detectives.” Her blue eyes glared at them through her black eyeliner.
“Okay then.” Martinez looked at his notes for a moment. “So, I guess we can start with this past Thursday. You were working this day?”
“I work everyday, Detective,” she said with a slight smile of defiance.
Shawn was irked by her current demeanor and couldn’t wait to step in but he let Martinez continue. “Let me reword that; you were working at the Tribune on Thursday? And if so, did you happen to see when Brandon arrived that day?”
“I was at the office and I think Brandon got there sometime before lunch.”
“Would you be able to tell me if he was at the tribune for the entire day?”
“Actually, yeah. We’ve been working on an assignment together and it took up the majority of the day Thursday. We had some catching up to do since he had to be in court the entire morning.” Her lips curled with annoyance.
Not changing his pleasant, good-cop tone he asked, “Do you know what time he left for the day?”
Looking him square in the eyes she said, “I do.”
Not being able to take her attitude anymore, Shawn spoke up. “Enough with the brazen bullshit already and just answer the questions.”
“I did answer the question, Detective.”
Moving forward he placed his hands down hard on the table startling her. “What time did Mr. DeFranco leave the Tribune Tuesday and can you vouch for his whereabouts after the fact?”
Her temper began to flare a bit but she didn’t look away from his gaze. “I’m not sure I need to put up with this type of questioning.”
Still centered and calm, the interview was going just as he planned. “Sam, you’ll have to forgive my partner here, he didn’t get his coffee this morning.” Shawn backed off and retreated to his space against the wall. “Can you please tell us what time Brandon left for the day and if you know where he went afterward?”
Her eyes remained on Shawn as she moved her head slowly towards Martinez. “Brandon and I left the office around 8:30 and we went back to my place to order in some food and finish some things with regards to our assignment.”
“And what time did he leave your place that evening?”
“He didn’t.” Glancing at Shawn she continued, “He fell asleep on the couch and we left for work together the next morning.”
“Sam, can you tell me how long you have known Brandon DeFranco?”
Rolling her eyes to think for a moment, she said, “I don’t know, about three years I guess.”
“The two of you close?”
Shrugging her shoulders she replied, “Pretty close. I’m basically his work wife.”
Although his facial expression didn’t change, a red flag went off for Martinez and he knew Shawn would be chiming in again soon.
“Did you know his wife well? The two of you get along?”
She sighed. “Pam and I didn’t talk much. She did her own thing and I don’t think she liked Brandon working so much. They were having problems, you know. Hence, he was staying at my place.”
Martinez continued taking notes. He looked up at her from his pad, tapped his pen, and casually asked, “So, he had been staying with you for how long?”
“Since last Saturday when she called the police and kicked him out of his house,” she said bitterly.
“Sounds like you might have a jealous beef with the little wifey,” said Shawn antagonizing her.
Squinting her eyes at him defensively, Sam growled back, “Pam was a snotty bitch and hated the fact that he and I had the relationship we did. She was the jealous one.” She quickly realized she allowed him to get the best of her. She had said too much.
Taking a breath she looked at Martinez. His face was sympathetic but his eyebrows curled with curiosity. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened to her but she was no angel in all of this.” She grabbed her phone and stopped the recording, shoving it into her bag. She stood up and wrapped her purse around her shoulder. “I have work to do. Have a good day, Detective.” Shooting Shawn a nasty look she walked out the door.
The two men sat in silence until she had exited the police station. Shawn walked around the table and took a seat across from Martinez. He placed his hands behind his head and sprawled his legs out like the alpha male who had just claimed his territory. “Well she’s a pistol, aye!”
Sitting back in his chair Martinez smirked. “You ain’t kidding. I told you this whole alibi of DeFranco’s isn’t making any sense. Why would he continue to stay at a ‘friend’s’ house when the wife left? And ‘work wife’? What the hell is that? Either she’s screwing him, or she desperately wants to.”
Shawn’s face lit up. “Ah man, can you imagine? I bet she’s a bear in bed!”
Lifting his masculine chin he asked, “Seriously, Johnson, what do you make of it?”
Scratching the stubbly grays on the side of his head, he said, “I’m with you, man. It doesn’t make sense. Something’s rotten in Denmark.”
Feeling guilty for previously being so angry with him, Martinez was grateful. “That was nice work, Johnson. I appreciate your help.”
“Awe, don’t go getting all sentimental on me now. It was fun. We should do this more often.” He glanced at his watch. “You hungry? Wanna grab a burger at Jimmy’s?”
He thought about it for a minute. “You know, that’s sounds awesome about now. Just let me make a phone call.”
Rising from his position, Shawn scooted the chair under the table. “I’ll meet ya there with a cold beer waiting for you.”
Once Shawn left the room, Martinez hit Elizabeth’s contact number in his phone. It went straight to voicemail. “Uh, hey, Liz, sorry I’ve been so tied up. Um, nothing new here, well kind of. Weird, weird, people. Investigation is moving along though. Me and Johnson are about to grab some grub. I just thought I’d try you real quick. I hope we can get together soon. Uh, okay. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”