"Well, that was an exciting interview, wasn't it?" Tim was driving, headed south on Kietzke Lane.
"I could use a beer," Grace said. "How far is that brewpub we went to last night?"
"Just a couple of minutes from here." He turned right up a narrow street, went three blocks, turned left, and pulled into the parking lot. They went up to the terrace, found the same table, ordered the same beers.
"Gee, this is a really small town, isn't it?" Grace was amazed at how close everything seemed to be.
"Well, yes and no. The important stuff is close by, but people have built houses 20 miles in every direction from the center of town. I'd rather live in town close to work, close to good clubs and restaurants, but still within an easy drive of mountains, desert, lakes and forests. I hate commuting. Seems stupid to sit in a car by yourself along with thousands of other people sitting in cars by themselves, just idling."
"I know what you mean. I hate commuting too, but I do it because I can't afford a place close in."
"Is Seattle expensive? I've never lived anywhere but here." Tim was showing his lack of exposure to other towns but he didn't care. He was comfortable in his ignorance.
"You haven't? Wow! I don't think I've ever met any adult who was born and raised in the same town they settled in."
"Well, you said you grew up in northern NJ. How long did it take you to move away?" Tim pointed out another parallel in their lives.
Grace hesitated. "Busted again. I grew up there, and only moved away 4 years ago." She sipped her beer. "What difference does that make?"
"Just goes to show that you probably wouldn't have moved if it hadn't been for your stupid chief of detectives not promoting you."
"And my stupid boyfriend on his 'roids."
"Dangerous stuff. We had an outbreak of steroid ODs at a couple of high schools a few years back. The teachers were buying the stuff and feeding it to the kids!" He paused, gripped the table tightly, anger showing in his normally placid face. "Thankfully, they are all doing hard time now. No kids died, but some of the parents wanted to string up the teachers. So did I."
They sat silently, sipping their second round, processing the day's activities. A day that began with a routine, but was tossed into disarray with the accident. But the accident brought the other three players into the police's view. As it turned out, they didn't need to do any investigation at all—everyone the Reno PD needed to see was in the hospital emergency room.
Tim was a conscientious cop, but also sensitive to families in distress. He realized that bracing them in the waiting room wasn't a good idea. Instead, a low-key introduction with a promise to contact later was all he needed to do.
He figured that if Greg was as rich as Grace said he was, he'd bring a lawyer for the interviews. That didn't bother him. If there was nothing to hide, the lawyer would let Greg talk. If there was, then an indictment would be in the offing. It didn't matter to him either way. All he wanted was the truth.
Following his train of thought, he asked, "Grace, do you think Greg will bring a lawyer to the interviews?"
She thought for a moment. "Probably. This guy is loaded—makes Rick Davis look like a welfare dude. He probably doesn't go anywhere without legal protection."
"Well, how about the others? Jessica and Paul? Do they have lawyers too, ya think?"
"Not that they hired. If anything, Greg's probably got them all represented by his guy.
"Ok. That helps a lot. If you're right, they'll all be lawyered up. How should I do the interviews?"
"You're asking me for advice? I'm flattered, kind sir." She gave him a mock bow, then winked.
"Shut up. Yes, I'm asking you for advice. You dealt with this Greg dude before. I hadn't met the guy before today, even though he probably pays enough taxes to foot my salary for a year."
"More like 5 years, but that's another story for another time. He spent over 15 grand on a weekend stay at a hotel in Seattle, and flew there in his own jet plane."
"Wow." Tim was impressed, now. "So he's rich, and likes to spend money. How should I approach the guy?"
"Well," Grace raised her eyes to the setting sun, a beautiful sight illuminating the sky above them. A series of sculpted cloud formations took on the colors renowned in the western high desert—salmon, pink and purple splashed across the vista spread out beyond the mountains. "Just be polite, not accusatory, but insistent that you know exactly what happened in that room. Until we know, we can't determine whether a crime took place. And he's the only one who witnessed what happened."
