Chapter 6: The Things Marcus Had Said
The statements took two hours.
They sat us in separate rooms, which I understood.
Tyler needed to tell his version without watching my face, and I needed to tell mine without watching his.
The officer who took my statement was older, a detective named Paulson who had driven over from the main precinct.
He asked careful questions and wrote everything down by hand, which I found oddly reassuring.
When I described the moment Marcus had walked into the kitchen and looked at me before looking at the room, Paulson stopped writing.
"He looked at you first," he said.
"For about one second.
Then he looked at the kitchen layout.
Like he was orienting himself."
"And you noticed that in the moment?"
"I noticed something was wrong in the moment.
I didn't understand what I'd noticed until later."
Paulson nodded slowly and wrote it down.
When we were done, he walked me back to the living room where Tyler was already sitting, a cup of tea in front of him that he hadn't touched.
We waited until Paulson left the room before either of us spoke.
"What did they ask you?" Tyler said.
"Everything.
How I knew him.
What he said.
What the text message said." I sat down across from him.
"What did they ask you?"
"Same." He turned the teacup in his hands.
"They asked me what I had told him about home.
About you."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I talked about you all the time." His voice broke on the last word.
He steadied it.
"I told him you were a nurse for twenty years.
That you lived alone since Dad left.
That you kept the house immaculate because it was the one thing you could control." He set the cup down.
"I told him you kept valuables in the basement.
In the storage unit down there.
Gran's jewelry.
The documents."
The room was quiet.
"He asked about the basement specifically?" I said.
"He didn't ask.
He just — he was good at getting me to talk.
He'd say something small about his own family and then I'd say something about mine and it never felt like he was collecting information.
It felt like we were just talking." Tyler looked at his hands.
"I told him about the lock on the storage unit.
I told him you kept a spare key on the hook by the dryer."
I thought about the sounds I had heard through the basement door.
The deliberate movement.
Not pacing.
"Tyler," I said carefully.
"The storage unit.
Is there anything in there besides the jewelry and the documents?"
He looked up.
"Your grandmother's ring," I said.
"The one I was going to give you someday.
And the deed to this house.
And the account information your father left when he set up the trust for you."
Tyler's face went completely still.
"The trust," he said.
"Yes."
May you like
He stood up.
"We need to tell Paulson."
