Chapter 40Half 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 t
