Dead Even - Mariah Stewart [47]
“Then we’ll put finding the tape at the top of the to-do list.” He leaned back to permit the waitress to serve their food. “We’ll see if anything jogs your memory.”
“Funny, but I don’t remember any of the other suspects I spoke with that entire week, but I never forgot him.”
“Tell me what you do remember. Maybe if you talk about it, something might come to you. Who picked him up and brought him in, and why?”
“He worked at the restaurant with the vic. We spoke with all of her coworkers.”
“Was he resistant to speaking with you?”
“Not at all. When we first starting talking, he was very relaxed, very matter-of-fact. Said he was washing dishes at the time of the murder, and wasn’t it just terrible, poor Jenny. He said he had seen her off and on during that night, but that she’d worked her shift and left by the back door at closing time.” Miranda leaned her head back against the seat. “However, when we went over our notes, we realized that several other employees mentioned that Jenny had left through a side door. And when pressed, none of them could remember actually seeing Channing just before closing.”
“And, of course, when you wanted to question him again, he was gone.”
“Right. Disappeared into thin air.”
“And there was no physical evidence to tie him to the crime scene?”
“None. There’d been no fingerprints to match—he must have worn gloves—and he had no record, no DNA to match.”
“I’m assuming his apartment was searched.”
“He’d been living in a rented room. Week to week. By the time we got there, he’d cleared out.”
“Seems as if he’d have been a likely suspect at that time. I’m surprised they gave up on him as easily as they did.”
“Keep in mind that the local cops had another suspect—a neighbor of the victim’s—who looked pretty good to them for a while. By the time he was cleared and we decided to take another look at Channing, he’d taken off.”
They’d finished their meals and the waitress returned to ask if they wanted dessert. When Miranda shook her head, Will reached across the table to place a hand upon her forehead.
“Hmmm, you don’t appear to be feverish.” He frowned. “Was there something wrong with your dinner?”
“No. I’m just not in the mood for dessert.” She took a sip of water from her glass. “I’m tired. As a matter of fact, I was just thinking about asking you to drive home.”
“This is a first, Cahill. Are you sure you’re not sick?”
“No. Just tired. You ready to leave?”
“Yes. I’ll just grab the check from the waitress, and we can go.”
“I’m going to go on outside and see if I can get Veronica Carson again. I really want to know what’s going on out there in Fleming.” Miranda slid out of the booth and swung her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll meet you out by the car.”
By the time Will got outside, Miranda was in the passenger seat in the recline position, the key was in the ignition, and the engine was turned on.
“All warmed up and ready to go,” she told him as he got into the car.
“Great.” He adjusted the driver’s seat and the mirrors, and put the car in reverse. “Were you able to get through to Carson?”
“No. I had to leave another message.” She closed her eyes. “I hope she’s not avoiding me. I can’t think of any reason why she would.”
“Do you want the heat on?” he asked.
“No, thanks.”
“Want to put my jacket over you?”
She thought about that for a minute, then shook her head no.
“You all right?”
“I’m just tired, Will. I haven’t been sleeping well. And I barely slept at all last night.”
“Thinking about Unger?”
“Thinking about how we screwed up.”
“That’s the second time you said that. How do you figure we screwed up?” He put on the right turn signal and followed the signs for I95 south.
“We should have been more aggressive with the Telford police, should have been stronger in our approach to them.”
“As I recall, we made it pretty clear that there was a good chance Unger might be the target of a killer. Then again, there was a good chance that he might not be.”
“We should have—”
“Stop it. We gave the police all of the information we