The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(94)

“How was she going to get in?”

“She knew the code.”

“You were dating?”

“We’d gone out a few times.”

“Tell me what happened after my partner and I left the restaurant?”

“I stayed for a few minutes to check and answer some e-mails, then I called my office and told them I was going to take a longer lunch but that I would be in for an appointment I had at three o’clock.” Strickland took another deep breath and raised the mug to his lips with trembling hands, sipping tea. Lowering the mug, he continued. “I made a few phone calls and drove home.”

“Did you call and tell her you were on your way?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Megan liked to surprise me.”

“Surprise you how?”

“Can I finish? I think it will become apparent.”

“Go ahead.”

“I parked in my space beneath the building. Megan’s car was parked in one of the guest spaces.”

“What kind of car?” Tracy asked.

“Her car? A blue Camry. I took the elevator from the garage to my landing.”

“I notice you need a code to get in the front entrance to the building and to your apartment. Do you need a code to access your landing from the elevator in the garage?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Megan knew that code?”

Strickland nodded. “It’s the same code as the front door.” He took a breath, blew it out. “When I walked in, I called out her name, but she didn’t answer. I called a couple more times, and when she didn’t answer, I suspected she was either taking a shower upstairs or she was hiding.”

“Did you notice anything unusual, anything out of place that caused you any alarm?”

“No.”

“Why did you think she’d be hiding—because she liked to surprise you?”

“Yes. She’d jump out, or pop out from under the covers.”

“She’d surprised you before?”

“Right.”

“So what did you do when you got home?”

“I went up the stairs.” Strickland’s gaze lacked focus. “The bedroom is blocked by a partition. I couldn’t see anything. I said her name as I stepped around the partition. I thought she was going to jump out at me . . . and that’s when I saw her, and the blood.”

“Where was she?” Tracy asked.

Strickland looked up as if he hadn’t heard the question. “What?”

“Where did you find her?”

“The bed. She was on the bed.”

“In what position?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Was she sitting up, laying down?”

“She was on her stomach with her left arm sort of draped over her head.” Strickland raised his arm and bent it over his head. “Like she’d been sleeping.”

That had been Tracy’s thought when she saw the body. There was no indication Megan Chen had tried to run or avoid her killer, which meant either she knew him, or he’d surprised her. Both could apply to Strickland.

“And you say she’d done this before, surprised you like that?”

“Yes.”

“What position was she in on that occasion?”

“She’d been hiding under the covers. She just sat up and yelled ‘Surprise!’” Strickland said without enthusiasm.

“Do you have any explanation for why she would have been on her stomach?”

Strickland shrugged. “Like I said, she looked like she’d fallen asleep.”

“What did you do next?”

Strickland shook his head. “I saw the gun on the side of the bed and I just backed away. I hit the stair railing and that sort of jarred me. I don’t know. I just turned and ran. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“Did you touch her?”

Strickland emphatically shook his head. “No. There was blood and . . .” He closed his eyes.

“Did you touch the gun?”

“No,” he said softly.

“Where did you go after you left the apartment?”

“I didn’t know where to go.” Strickland blew out a breath, as if about to throw up. If this was an act, he was giving a superb performance. “I didn’t know what to do. I drove around and tried to reach Phil, but he was in court. When I finally reached him he told me to come here.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“And tell them what?” Strickland’s voice rose in a challenge, but it was only momentary. He sighed and slumped away from the table. “What was I going to say, that there was a dead woman in my bed? The DA had already called me a suspect in Andrea’s disappearance, and I know you think I had something to do with Devin’s disappearance. Who was going to believe me?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s my loft. She was in my bed. You saw her with me a couple of hours earlier. I’m an attorney. I know how it looks.”

And that’s what was bothering Tracy. How it looked. It was easy, too easy. Then again, maybe Strickland had intended it to look that way, so easy that Tracy’s first thought would be it could not possibly be him.