The Nitrogen Murder(90)

Matt, not usually given to public displays of affection, finally came over and embraced me.

Elaine let us have our private words, then gave me a hug and went upstairs.

Matt wrapped an afghan around me on a living room chair. I was glad he didn’t lecture me. I convinced him to go up, too, and let me stay downstairs for a while, to get my bearings.

He left the room, taking Elaine’s keys with him.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Inspector Dennis Russell sat across the table from Dana—a very narrow table, Dana noted, so that he was in her face. His big ears and pointy chin gave him a comical look that put Dana more at ease than she normally would have been in a police station interview room.

She’d wanted to talk about Robin Kirsch, accountant for Julia Strega, scam artist, and fraud. But Russell made it known that he was in charge, and this interview was about Tanisha Hall.

“Did Ms. Hall seem upset about anything in the days before her death?” he asked her.

“No,” Dana answered, determined not to reveal anything negative about Tanisha. If the police were going to make a case against Tanisha, they’d do it without her help. It wasn’t as if her partner’s illegal activities had anything to do with Patel’s shooting, or her father’s. There was Rachel to think about, and Marne, both of whom deserved a dignified memory of Tanisha. Dana had been trying to think of a way to get the money to them; she couldn’t care less what the disposition should be legally

Dana wished she knew Russell’s thinking. Who did he suspect killed Tanisha? Russell wouldn’t even reveal how much he believed about Julia’s scam.

Behind Dana’s firm no to Russell, that Tanisha had not seemed upset lately, was the awareness that there had been signs of trouble. And Dana might have been able to help, if only she’d been paying closer attention to her partner.

“What if you were stuck in something?” Tanisha had asked her, during what would be one of the last EMT shifts of her life. “You know, before you knew it, you’d got yourself on a track … maybe for the right reason, but it’s wrong anyway. And you can’t see a way to turn back.”

Dana had figured Tanisha was referring to the nasty custody battle with Rachel’s father, that Tanisha might be having second thoughts about keeping him as far from their daughter as possible.

“This is about Darryl, isn’t it?” Dana had asked.

Dana remembered the long silence. Then, “Yeah,” Tanisha had said. “Yeah, it’s about Darryl.”

But now Dana suspected it wasn’t about Darryl’s weekend visits with Rachel. What if Tanisha had been trying to get out of the fraud business, and she was looking to Dana for support? Strangely, that thought cheered Dana-that her friend was about to give up on the scam and blow the whistle. She was ready to be a heroine.

The nerve of Robin, Dana thought, going to great lengths, like tampering with her incident report, sending the cops to Tanisha’s house to look for drugs, knowing it was highly likely they’d find a bag of supplies. For all Robin knew, Tanisha had already given her up to the cops, and Robin had to protect herself.

It was depressing to think she’d known so little about her supposed friends. She’d have to sit down with Jen one of these days and ask some pointed questions so she wouldn’t be caught off guard again.

Dana managed one-word answers to the rest of Russell’s questions. Did Ms. Hall seem to spend more money than she was earning? (No.) Had she missed a significant number of workdays? (No.) Had she acquired any new or different associates recently?

“Associates? Do you mean people?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

A few more nos and Russell was ready to move on.

“Okay, Ms. Chambers, now let’s talk about your roommate Ms. Kirsch. You indicated you have something you wanted to report?”

She rolled her eyes, but not so much that he would notice; she wasn’t looking for trouble that much hard. Dana handed Russell the spreadsheet.

Cops, she thought, and wondered where Matt was.



“How soon am I going to get over this whole thing?” Dana asked Matt. She’d found him in the lobby of the PD, waiting his turn with Russell, and had taken a seat next to him.

“It depends, Dana. There are so many variables, most of which have nothing to do with you, like whether other people let you get over it, for one thing.”

“What if something like this happens again?”

“I’m not going to lie to you. It might. You have to admit that. You like to think you’re in control. You wear a respected uniform. You have all the equipment you need. Communication tools hanging from your belt. Then something like this happens, a loss, the potential for physical harm to yourself—and you lose confidence. But what you’re going to do is, you’re going to strengthen your coping skills.”