Half past eight and a round of coffees found the three of us showered, and sporting fresh jeans and shirts; unlike the pastel ones Linda and I wore, Rey"s resembled a psychedelic Rorschach inkblot and made for some serious eye-squinting. As for the detective, he"d not changed out of his early-morning garments.
Sitting anxiously—and maybe a little impatiently—in his office, we"d filled in the detective with everything that had transpired since Carmie"s death. Most was familiar to him; some not.
We"d also re-confirmed timing. We"d found her around 4:20, which made the time of death more like 2:20, if we relied on the coroner"s Carmie-meeting-her-Maker guesstimate of two hours. Tests, as yet, hadn"t been concluded.
After the reprehensible deed, William would have needed a solid thirty minu
