Page 95 of Manner of Death
Guilt made Bashir queasy. All this had happened right under his nose, and all because Boyce had found Tami’s weakness—him.
“When did it shift to murder?” Yang asked.
“I’m…” Tami chewed her lip as a few more tears rolled down her blotchy cheeks. “He started having me receive packages for him and run errands for him. Most of it, I had no idea what most of it was. I still don’t. It wasn’t until I’d ordered the snake venom for him and had it come to my apartment that I figured out he was sending—God, he’d sent me at least one murder weapon, so who knew what else there was, you know? And like… I didn’t know he was killing people. I really didn’t. Not until…” She dropped her gaze, digging her teeth so hard into her lip, it was a wonder it didn’t bleed.
“Not until what, Ms. Glen?” Yang prodded.
She took in a deep, shuddering breath. “It was after the guy who everyone thought drowned at first. After Bashir had finished the autopsy, and I’d signed off for the body to go to the funeral home. Bashir wasn’t in the morgue right then, and Andy came in. He was mad that Bashir had figured out the cause of death, and then he was ranting about how it was insane that Bashir had found the bullet holes in the guy who’d been cut up with the chainsaw. Like, at first I thought he was just mad because he’s always jealous when Bashir figures out the cases no one else can. But then…”
Her eyes lost focus, and she slowly shook her head. “Then he just said, ‘He won’t be able to figure them all out. I promise you that.’ When I asked him what he meant, he said he had an errand for me. That was the night he sent me to the grocery store. He wanted me to meet someone out back, but he was really insistent that I had to go through the store and out the employee entrance so the person would know to come find me.” She groaned with frustration and covered her face with both hands. “God, I’m so stupid. I didn’t even think it was so he’d have me in front of the cameras and so everyone would think it was me.”
“So he sent you there to make it look like you were behind the store at the time of the murder,” Yang said.
Tami nodded without looking at anyone. Then she started falling apart again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was him until—even when I did know, I was scared. He was going to ruin Bashir’s career, but when I realized he was killing people…” She broke down, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”
Her lawyer touched Tami’s shoulder and looked at everyone else. “I think my client needs a few moments, if you all don’t mind.”
Bashir definitely didn’t mind—he needed to step outside himself, even if it hurt like hell to push himself up out of the chair.
Out in the hall, everyone exchanged wide-eyed looks.
“So what happens now?” Bashir asked. “Is she going down for this?”
“That’ll be up to the D.A.,” Yang said. “And without any evidence to support her claim, it’s easily his word against hers.”
Bashir wanted to argue, but how many murder trials had he been involved in? How many people insisted they were innocent right up until Bashir’s own testimony connected them to the body? Like the guy who’d shouted from the rooftops that he hadn’t killed his business partner—his brother and best friend, for God’s sake!
“But if the defendant didn’t kill the victim,” the prosecutor had said to the jury, “then how did a contact lens matching his prescription wind up under the blood on the victim’s body?”
Was there going to be a metaphorical dropped contact lens this time? Some irrefutable piece of evidence putting Tami at the crime scenes and her hands on the bodies? Some unforeseeable weirdness that would be on-fucking-brand for this case?
Yang exhaled. “We’ll still need to get a written statement from her. And have her tell us everything she knows about Boyce’s involvement with each murder.” His gaze shifted to Sawyer, then Bashir. “And what she might know about his attempts to kill both of you, not to mention murdering a pair of officers this morning. I also want to dig a little deeper into the connection to the podcaster—apparently Boyce used her official email to leak details to the guy. I guess he wanted the cases to be getting a lot of attention and have a ton of people thinking something was shady. Then it would be an even bigger sensation when it eventually blew open that you”—he nodded toward Bashir—“were fucking them up.”
Bashir’s stomach knotted. How was it possible to be so simultaneously surprised and… not? Boyce was insane.
“I don’t suppose he’s the reason the podcaster started reaching out to my sister?” Sawyer asked dryly.
“We’re not completely sure yet,” Yang said. “Tami wasn’t privy to that part, but Felix did indicate that his morgue contact was the one pointed him toward her. Said with her brother involved in the investigation, she’d jump all over it.”
“Of course she did.” Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Anyway, the rest of your questions for Tami—do you still need us for that?”
Bashir wanted to insist he could handle it, but if he was honest, the pain was ratcheting up by the minute. He was exhausted, sore, and ready to collapse.
“Let me see if she’s willing to talk without the two of you.” Yang stepped back into the interview room.
Nan cleared her throat. “I’m going to go get some coffee. I’ll be back in a few. Either of you want any?”
Bashir and Sawyer shook their heads.
When they were alone, Sawyer faced him, and the fluorescent lights did nothing to add any color to his pale face. “How are you feeling?”
“Like one of the slabs downstairs sounds like an appealing place to take a nap.”
Sawyer laughed softly. “Yeah. Same.” He squeezed Bashir’s hand. “Think anyone will hold it against us if we take the rest of the day off?”
“I don’t really care if they do.” Bashir rubbed his thumb along Sawyer’s. “We’re going back to your place, and—”
“Uh, actually my place is still cordoned off, too. Carbon monoxide.”