The Birthday List(100)

I blew out an angry breath, rubbing my jaw as I considered Matt’s point. Simmons had a knack in the interrogation room, I’d give him that much. He was able to build trust with his subjects faster than anyone else I knew. Maybe it was his pudgy nature—he was far from intimidating—but Matt was probably right. Bringing Simmons in to help was smart.

“Fine.”

Matt clapped me on the shoulder and walked out of observation without another word. Fifteen minutes later, I stood at the mirror as he entered with Simmons on his heels.

“Nina, this is Detective Simmons.” Matt took the chair across from her. “He’s going to be listening as we talk, okay?”

She nodded, her eyes darting to Simmons, before returning to her fingers. She was picking so nervously at her cuticles, one had started to bleed.

I took a seat in one of the chairs and watched as Matt asked some basic questions. Do you remember the liquor store murder five years ago? Can you recall where you were at that time? Every question was answered with a shake of her head. The minutes passed and my hopes of getting Nina to give us any clue as to her whereabouts that day shrank further and further. Her answers were as short as possible and she refused to make eye contact with Matt—who was getting just as frustrated as I was, based on the fists he was making under the table.

Matt circled back to the beginning, repeating a question he’d already asked, when Simmons held out a hand, stepping in.

Simmons began asking Nina questions that had nothing to do with the case. He did it for an hour. Then another. And by the time I’d been watching her in that room for nearly three hours, her shell was finally beginning to crack. They talked about her job at the coffee shop. What she’d done for Christmas last week. How she was enjoying the fresh snow.

As Simmons and Nina chatted about a movie they’d both seen recently, Matt excused himself from the interrogation room and joined me in observation.

We watched as Simmons got up and brought her a paper cup of water from the cooler in the corner. “I appreciate you coming in to visit with us today. I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”

“Can I go?”

“Soon.” Simmons sat back down. “But first I need to ask you some questions about your boyfriend.”

Nina’s face paled. “Okay.”

I raked a hand through my hair. “Where’s he going with this, Matt?”

“Fuck if I know, but he’s gotten farther with her than I did so I’m sure he’s got a plan.”

I sure as hell hoped so. The longer I watched, the tighter the ball in my gut twisted. Matt was right. There was something here. Just like him, I had a feeling about this woman, and we couldn’t afford to have Simmons fuck it up.

“Nina, I know Detective Hernandez explained that you were here because we had some questions about a murder five years ago.”

She nodded to Simmons.

“Do you remember that day at all?”

Her eyes darted to the mirror. “No.”

Lie. Her body language was all over the place. She sure as fuck remembered that day. I’d bet my life on it.

“Hmm.” Simmons hummed. “It was in May. The murder happened at a liquor store. It’s closed now, but it used to be next to the grocery store on Twenty-Third Street. Do you know which one I’m talking about?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Well, it was a long time ago. I can see how you’d forget something after five years. You would have been what, seventeen?”

She nodded.

“And your boyfriend, he would have been twenty-three. Is that right?”

“Um, twenty-two. He’s five years older than me.”

“You’re right.” Simmons chuckled. “I never have been good at math. Good thing one of us has some brains in here.”

Nina gave him a small smile but kept her eyes pinned on the table.

“Listen, I’ll be straight with you. We have reason to believe that your boyfriend committed the murders at the liquor store.”

Her head flew up, her eyes like saucers as she gasped.

“What the fuck?” I muttered, shifting to the edge of my seat. What was Simmons doing?

“You seem like a nice girl, Nina. But your boyfriend is mixed up in some bad stuff. We’re bringing him in later today and charging him with two counts of first-degree murder. I don’t want you to get mixed up in all of that, so I need you to think. Think hard. Where were you at the time of the murder?”

She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “No. No, he didn’t kill anyone.”

“This is really important, Nina.” Simmons pressed harder. “The district attorney wants to ask for the death penalty. You could be brought in as an accomplice if we can’t verify your alibi. So think. Where were you?”

A tear rolled down her cheek as she shook her head. “He didn’t kill anyone.”

“Nina, he did. He’s going to jail for the rest of his life. If he’s lucky, they’ll give him two life sentences. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison and that’s if he’s lucky enough to find a judge that won’t order lethal injection. Samuel is gone. He’s dead. Don’t end up in jail too. Tell me, where were you the day of the murder?”

She cried harder, burying her face in her hands as her shoulders shook.