All the Dark Places(70)
But I feel stronger than I have in a very long time. I can do this.
CHAPTER 52
Rita
MR. BRANCH COMES IN FIRST, LEAVING HIS ELEVEN-YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER in the waiting room. His curly hair is in disarray, as if he needs a good haircut, and his glasses are smudged. He’s wearing a slightly rumpled tweed sport coat, like a harried professor.
The questions about the Fourth of July week have gotten routine by now, and his replies are the same as everyone else’s, and we hope for something more when we turn to his past.
“Mr. Branch, we’ve done a bit of poking around and discovered your wife died a few years ago.”
“Yes.”
“She was only thirty-four?”
“That’s right.” He clears his throat. His eyes flicker.
“That must’ve been tough,” Joe says.
He lets go a deep breath. “It was. It was awful.”
I lift a sheet of paper from a file folder. “It says here in her obit that she died of natural causes.” My eyes meet his.
He glances away. “Yes. She had a heart condition. I found her at home on the bathroom floor.”
“That must’ve been traumatic.”
He nods.
“There wasn’t an autopsy?” I ask.
“ No.”
“Huh.” I make a note.
“Her cardiologist verified her cause of death,” he adds, his jaw muscles tense. Beads of perspiration gather at his temples.
“Okay. An autopsy is usually standard procedure in one so young.”
“Well, it wasn’t necessary—everyone agreed at the time.” He glances at Joe, then back to me. “Why is this important?”
“Didn’t say it was,” I reply.
“Look, I don’t have anything to add to your investigation. I don’t know anything about that Mountclair woman, and I have no idea what happened to Jay.” He runs a hand through his hair, setting his curls at odd angles. “This has all been really upsetting for my daughter and Molly.”
“That’s why we’re trying to get it all sorted out, Mr. Branch,” Joe says, leaning back in his chair.
He nods, bites his lips. “Well, I’m glad to help if I can, but I’ve told you everything I know, which is next to nothing.”
“So you didn’t leave the mountain house that night?” I ask.
“No, of course not.”
“Maybe you didn’t feel sleepy and decided to go for a drive?”
“ No.”
“How about giving us a DNA sample, Mr. Branch?” I ask.
His mouth hangs open. “Yes. Of course.”
“We can do it right now.” Joe starts to stand, but Branch looks suddenly panicky.
“My daughter’s here. Right outside. I don’t want her upset. Can I come back alone another time?”
“Why is this such a big deal?” I ask, leaning toward him. “Your daughter’s a bright girl. She surely would understand that this is just routine.”
He shakes his head. “No. I’ll come back another time. I don’t want Alice involved.”
Now I’m worried he won’t let us talk to her, so I back off. “Okay. That’s fine.” I go out and bring Alice in. Since she’s a minor, her father gets to stay while we question her.
Her long blond hair is neatly combed and held back with a black headband. She’s wearing a white blouse with a navy cardigan and looks like a teenager from the fifties on her way to boarding school.
“Hello, Alice,” I say.
She smiles slightly and nods.
“You know why we’re here?”
“Yes. You’re trying to find out what happened to the lady in the riverbank.” She glances at her dad.
“Yes. And we know you were the one who found her.”
Alice’s cheeks flush.
“That must’ve been upsetting.”
“I didn’t know what it was at first, but when Molly and I got closer, I knew it was something bad.”
I look over my notes. “We want to go back to the night of July Fourth. You remember that?”
“Yes.”
“You and your dad were sleeping on the summer porch, is that right?”
“Yes. It was hot, so we decided to sleep out there instead of on the living room couches.”
“Did you hear anything at all in the night?”
“No. It was quiet.”
The porch is on the side of the house farthest from the riverbank, so despite the screens, it might’ve been hard to hear anything.
“Did you get up at all during the night?” Joe seems content to let me question Alice. He settles back with his notebook, and I get it. We don’t want her intimidated or uncomfortable. She knows me at least a little.
“ No.”
“What about your dad?”
She glances at him again. “I don’t think so.” Mr. Branch puts an arm around her shoulders.
“So you both slept straight through the night then?”
Alice purses her lips as though she’s thinking. “Yes. But I got up really early.”
“What time?” I ask quietly.
She draws a deep breath. “Well, I set my phone alarm because I wanted to sketch the sunrise. I like to draw out on the deck, so I set it for five o’clock. It was still dark when I got up, but I didn’t want to miss it. I wanted time to make a cup of tea and get my materials together.”