Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [65]
“I didn’t ask, Pete. I figured the most sensible thing was a face-to-face interview.”
“And those were the only pictures she told you about?”
“Yes. They were probably the ones that upset her the most. She did say that in the pictures, Greg didn’t look like himself. He looked drugged.”
“When are you meeting with her?”
“Seven-thirty tonight. She’s coming into the station.”
“Why so late?”
“I’ve got things to do and she’s got things to do. It was the earliest we both could make it. You don’t have to stick around. Oliver said he’d be there.
“Be sure to ask about Gregory’s camcorder.”
“It’s on the top of my list,” Marge said. “I think we’re both wondering who took the pictures. I have no idea if someone was photographing him or if Greg had a camera on his computer or what.”
“We should get hold of Myra Gelb’s laptop,” Decker said. “See if there’s anything weird on her computer.”
“I phoned up Udonis Gelb yesterday after the memorial service. I got her answering machine and left a message, offering condolences and my number if she needed anything. I also phoned Eric Gelb. Again, I got a machine. I don’t want to push either one of them right now. I’ll call in a few days and set something up.”
“That’s fine. But I’m still concerned about her laptop. I don’t think it’s too intrusive to call and tell them to put Myra’s computer in a safe place . . . just in case.”
“I can do that, but she has to find it first. We didn’t find it in her room, remember?”
“Ah . . . right.”
“Two missing laptops . . .” Marge thought a moment. “Two kids were going to the same school where suicides are not very common. And both deaths involved stolen guns and maybe laptops. You have to wonder.”
“What about Myra’s friends? Get a chance to talk to any of them?”
“I lined something up with Heddy Kramer on Thursday evening, the only evening when her parents don’t work late. They’re all coming into the station house at six.”
“So anything new with Dylan Lashay and the B and W Mafia?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t have an adult record. When I asked Juvenile about him, they claimed they’ve never heard the name. No wants or warrants. Not even a parking ticket. Mr. Eli seems squeaky clean. So maybe he is an upstanding citizen.”
“Or another Teflon don,” Decker said. “Either he’s clean or he’s careful. If it’s the former, then he’s out of the picture. If it’s the latter, we’ll wait until he screws up.”
The original text had come in an hour ago, at six-thirty. Gabe had turned off his phone because he’d been at the piano all day. He’d been coasting for the last week, spending too much of his time thinking about the wrong things. He knew he’d have to do better, especially because he now had some actual paying jobs in his future. This had been his first real day of work, his fingers and brain working as a unit. It felt good. He rewarded his hard work by allowing himself to read the text.
g8 lesson. made a breakthrough.
Gabe smiled. Maybe this would be the impetus to continue on with her voice. He texted back: u still there, cuckoo?
He waited and his phone burred a moment later.
hi.
what happened?
at the lesson?
yeah.
my vocal coach said I sounded like a real opera singer 4 the 1st time, that I sang w/real emotion.
congrats.
thx . . . teach.
ur welcome, student. just don’t sue me for sexual harassment.
lol. want 2 know how i did it?
of course.
i thought of u w/another girl.
He broke up. that would never happen but use what u need.
it better not happen.
better not w/u either. seriously keep up the gd work. knew u could do it . . . u got stuff in u just w8ting 2 come out. that’s y u need 2 sing.
thx :)
i mean it, yasmine. u really need 2 sing. if u don’t, u’ll get depressed.
i get depressed when i’m not w/u. r we on 2morrow?
b there at 6:30.
it opens at 6.
but ur always l8.
i promise 2 b there at 6 . . . 6:15 L8est.
Gabe smiled. She was hedging her bets. it’s still dark outside at 6. i’ll w8 for u on the corner so b there on time!
ok.
u know, if u make me get up extra early and ur l8, u buy