Sins of the Past Page 3
“And he was born here in America?” Wil asked.
“No, he was born in Mexico City,” Kate answered. “He lived there with his parents until he was five and his sister seven, then they moved to Houston, Texas where he grew up. He went to college at NYU and decided to stay on the East Coast after that. Five years after he graduated, he met me.”
“Was he always in the restaurant business?” Larry asked.
“Yes. He started as a bartender right out of college, but quickly became a manager and went on to become the general manager at Café Lola. You might know it. It’s a four-star restaurant on the Eastside.”
“Yes, I am familiar with that restaurant. It’s very fancy.” Larry smiled.
Kate smiled back. “Yes, it is indeed. You can’t go in there without wearing a jacket.”
“I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” Wil intercepted, “but did you and Diego ever have problems in your relationship? Problems as in one or both of you having an affair?”
The smile on Kate’s lips instantly withered away, and she seemed insulted. “Absolutely not. You’ve never met a happier couple than the two of us.” The widow glared at Wil, who held up a hand.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, but it’s something that needs to be asked. We have to explore all avenues in order to catch whoever did this to your husband.”
“It’s fine,” Kate grumbled, not sounding like it was fine at all. Wil had definitely hit a sore spot with her question. So everything had not been as perfect between her and Diego as she wanted to make it seem then, Larry couldn’t help but note. Since it was also clear that Kate was in no mood to admit that right now, they needed to tread lightly around the subject.
“Tell us about your own life,” Larry requested in an effort to cut through the sudden tension that filled the air, thick like pea soup. “Where were you born, where did you grow up?”
“I grew up right here in New York, but I don’t know where I was born,” Kate answered.
The two detectives stared at her. She didn’t know where she was born?
* * *
Chapter 5
Kate hated it when people asked her about her background, mainly because she was adopted and, for some inexplicable reason, admitting this to people still bothered her despite that she was well aware that it shouldn’t. Tons of people were adopted. There was nothing wrong about being adopted, yet Kate kept feeling as though it were. She needed to snap out of it once and for all, and now was as good a time as any other. Better, in fact.
Her tongue darted out of her mouth as she wetted her lips that had suddenly become parched.
“I’m adopted,” she explained simply. “I was found in the back of a Greyhound bus wrapped in a blanket when I was just a toddler. No one could tell for sure how long I had been on the bus. The person who left me there could have been a passenger from the point when the bus took off down in Louisiana, or come on at some point during the trip. I was found when the bus took a break at the New Jersey state line. For all the authorities knew, though, I could have been on another Greyhound bus before the one that took off from Louisiana.”
“Wow. Were they able to determine how old you were at least?” the black detective asked.
“Yes. Whoever had put me there had included a note that said: ‘This is Kate. She’s almost three. Please take care of her. I can’t.’ Apparently, I had been given sleeping pills, because I was sleeping very soundly on one of the seats at the very back of the bus. I was finally found in the morning when one of the passengers spotted me and woke me, thinking I was a piece of luggage at first. Fortunately, I wasn’t hurt at all.”
Both Detective White and Detective Cooper stared at her with compassion. “That’s some story,” the male detective muttered under his breath. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Good thing you were able to handle the sleeping pills. Not all toddlers survive them. What happened after you were found?”
“From what I’ve been told, I was taken to social services and put up for foster care. Thankfully, my first foster parents decided to adopt me instead of just having me as a foster child. They are great people. Well, were. My mother is still alive, but my dad passed away a couple of years ago.”
“Thank God for them,” Detective Cooper said, gazing at Kate with deepened interest. “They never found out who put you on that bus and left you then?”
“No,” Kate replied sadly. “They tried to find out for the longest time, but no one came forward. Which wasn’t strange. I was obviously meant not to be connected to anyone, or I wouldn’t have been placed drugged on that bus in the first place, hidden in the back.”
“That’s probably correct,” Detective Cooper agreed. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. Are you in touch with Diego’s parents and sister?”
“Yes, we have a very good relationship. They were at the funeral this morning.” Tears burned the back of Kate’s eyes, and her airway felt suddenly raw. She quickly cleared her throat. She was determined to retain her composure throughout this interview.
“Do you have their contact information?” Detective Cooper asked kindly; she must have picked up on Kate’s distress. “We would like to speak to them as soon as possible. I assume they still live in Texas?”
“Yes, they do. In Houston.” Kate gave Detective Cooper the phone numbers for both Diego’s parents and his older sister, Maria. Maybe the detectives would find something or someone who’d had it out for Diego. Something or someone that her husband had declined to tell her about. Despite that Kate still thought that a random thug must have robbed and killed him, she supposed it was possible there was more to the story. She supposed it was possible that Diego hadn’t told her all about himself. After all, she hadn’t told him every single detail about herself. She had kept a secret from him. Not that it was much of a secret really. It was all very innocuous and had no bearing on the case, so Kate saw no point in bringing it up to the cops. The situation would just cloud their investigation.
There had in fact been a problem in her marriage. Not a big one, but still. Their relationship hadn’t been quite as perfect as she and Diego had wanted everyone to think.
The “problem” had consisted of someone Kate had been dating right before she met Diego, someone she cared about and never stopped caring about—a man by the name of Trevor Cook whom she had met in the supermarket one day. But she had never loved Trevor—not the way she had loved Diego—which was why she had broken up with him the moment she met Diego. She had instantly known that Diego was the one for her, not Trevor. Diego had felt the same about her and told her so. It had been one of those love-at-first-sight moments.
Even so, Kate didn’t break off all ties with Trevor. At first, she had tried, wanting to protect Trevor’s heart and allow him to meet someone else. She had explained to Trevor that she didn’t feel right about seeing him, because she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea about the future. It could never be the two of them. Not now that she had met Diego. But Trevor had insisted they stay in touch, remain friends. One could never have too many friends, he’d pointed out, which she agreed with. Friends were good to have and she really did like Trevor as a person. They had a lot in common. But what ultimately made her decide to keep him in her life was when he told her that he had already met another woman he was going to start dating. A very special woman. In other words, there was no need for her to worry about his heart.
After he told her about the other woman, Kate had felt stupid. Who did she think she was? So irreplaceable that Trevor wouldn’t be able to survive without her? Of course that wasn’t the case. When she had realized that she had blown the situation out of proportion, she told him that she’d love to remain in touch, and they did. About once a month, the two of them either caught up on the phone or in person. It had been fine until Diego caught her having lunch with Trevor one day about two years ago. Diego had been furious, thrown things around and demanded that she stop seeing Trevor. She promised that she would, but th
at had been a lie. She refused to have anyone order her around, tell her what she could and couldn’t do. Who she could or couldn’t see. She wasn’t doing anything bad with Trevor; he was really just a friend, nothing else. She had even planned on introducing Trevor to Diego at some point, but something had held her back from doing so. After Diego’s violent reaction, she knew why. She had instinctively sensed that Diego, insecure that he could be at times, would have a problem with her having a close male friend. Especially one she used to date.
She remained in touch with Trevor, albeit less often. Their friendship had never proven to be a problem again, primarily because Kate was super careful not to reveal that she was still in touch with her ex. Diego would never understand that their relationship was purely platonic despite that Trevor was now engaged to this other woman. Kate had never met Clementina, only seen photos of her and Trevor.
The main reason Kate didn’t see any point in bringing up the situation with Trevor to the detectives was because she was absolutely sure he had not killed Diego. How could he when he had spent that entire evening with her? Every single minute they had been together, so he had had absolutely no opportunity.
Trevor’s father had died recently, and he had been deeply depressed about it. Since Kate was supposed to be gone anyway around that time, visiting a friend in D.C. while her mother babysat, she had figured she could come back a day early and console Trevor at his house. Her own father had died a few years ago, so she knew exactly what kind of pain Trevor was going through. When he had called her, telling her about it, she had not seen any other choice but to offer her support. His fiancée was on a business trip to Asia and couldn’t come back right away. Diego would never understand, so she had been forced to do it all behind his back. And now I can be absolutely sure he will never find out, she thought, feeling like crying again.
Who would have thought it would come to this?
* * *
Chapter 6
Wil wished she had been as lucky as Kate Martinez when she was turned over to social services as a kid. Her biological mother, a young drug addict, overdosed on heroin when Wil was four. Maybe if she had ended up with foster parents like Kate’s—normal people—she might not have been repeatedly sexually abused by her foster mother’s boyfriend. The only reason the woman had agreed to take on Wil was because of the checks she got every month. She had always looked the other way when the boyfriend began making moves on Wil, starting when Wil was only nine. Finally, Wil had been thrown out, blamed for having seduced the boyfriend. She had been fourteen when she was on her own and the funny thing was that, despite how her foster mother had treated her, she had loved and missed her desperately. Wil had blamed herself for all that had happened to her instead of putting the blame where it belonged—on her foster mother. It had taken Wil years of therapy to figure that one out. She wondered if the weekly therapy sessions would ever cure her of her obsession to keep her blond hair cut boyishly short, though, something she started doing when she was ten. In addition, she only wore makeup if it was absolutely necessary, which it rarely was in her line of work.
Wil had lived on the streets for the next year until social services caught up with what had happened to her and put her in another foster home. It was much better than the first one. Not warm and loving exactly, but at least the couple had fed and taken care of her, and most importantly, no one had abused her. Her second foster mother’s birthday was coming up. She should send her a card.
“Are you okay?” a gruff voice beside her asked.
Wil snapped out of her reverie and turned toward the voice. She looked straight into her partner’s warm, brown gaze. She ran a hand over her head and smiled a little. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just got to thinking a little.” They were back in their car after having finished talking to Kate.
Larry nodded and squeezed her shoulder affectionately with his big hand. They had worked together for almost four years now and knew each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. Larry was the closest Wil had ever let a person of the other sex get to her—emotionally, that is—and sometimes she wondered if it wasn’t the same for Larry despite that he had been married over a decade. From what she had gathered during the many hours they had spent on shift together, staking out suspects and chasing criminals, the marriage had never been particularly good. Frankly, as far as Wil was concerned, she thought that Larry’s poor excuse for a wife had done him a favor by leaving him so that Larry could find someone else much better. Someone who deserved a person as decent as Larry White was. It would take someone very special. The only good that had come out of the marriage was Larry’s daughter, Tiffany, a wonderful teenage girl.
“So, yeah, I’m admitting that you’re right about it looking like it wasn’t a crime of opportunity,” Larry said, stating the obvious. “Someone had a bone to pick with either Diego or Kate. I don’t buy for a second that their relationship was as solid as Kate wanted to make it seem. Which has nothing to do with me being so jaded and all when it comes to relationships, by the way,” he added defensively.
Wil sat up taller where she was behind the steering wheel. “You picked up on that, too? That’s exactly what I was thinking. Maybe the murder has something to do with a jealous lover.”
“Maybe. Kate didn’t want us to know about it in that case.”
“She might be protecting someone. I don’t think she herself is involved in the murder. At least not directly. Her grief seems genuine.”
“I agree,” Larry said and rubbed his chin. “And it’s not like she’s cashing in on a fat life insurance or anything. Are you suggesting she might be protecting a lover, though? A lover who couldn’t contain his jealousy any longer? While I do feel she’s hiding something, I really can’t imagine that she’s hiding knowledge of who killed her husband. If she had a clue, she’d have told us.” He paused and glanced out the window for a moment. “That is, unless she’s a truly weak person who can’t handle being alone, and she’s planning on being with the lover from now on. But I don’t think that she is.”
Wil inhaled, rubbing her stiff neck; sitting in a car as much as they did was not good for her body. “Yeah, I’m thinking you’re right about that. She doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“How about we call up Diego’s sister and parents, see what’s going on? We should do it right away before they can take off for Texas. It’ll save us a trip.”
“Yes, we should.” Wil reached for the notebook where she had jotted down their contact info. “You wanna call or should I?”
“You go ahead. You’re better on the phone than I am.”
“I’ll remember you said that.” Wil sent Larry a playful wink, and then found her cell attached to her belt. She punched the number she had for the mother first.
The call went to voicemail, so she left a detailed message, asking for a callback. She moved on to the sister’s number, hoping for better luck there. She had better luck—a woman’s voice answered after the second ring.
“Hello.”
“Can I speak to Maria Martinez, please?”
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“My name is Detective Wilhelmina Cooper. My partner and I are investigating your brother’s murder. I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Martinez. Can we meet up so we can talk to you for a few minutes? We have some questions relating to the investigation.”
“Um, sure. I’m supposed to go to dinner with my parents in an hour. How long will it take?”
“Actually, my partner and I would like to speak to your parents as well. Any chance we can buy you all dinner somewhere and we can talk then?”
“Uh… I think that should be okay. Hang on and I’ll ask my parents. They’re right here with me.”
There was some rustling on the other end of the line. Blocking the mic part on the phone, Wil whispered to Larry that it looked like things were going to work out for them.
More rustling sounded and then Maria was back. “They say it would be fine as long as it’s not too late.”
“Great,” Wil said. “I left a message for your mother. Please tell her there’s no need to return my call. Where are you? We can come right now and find a place to eat nearby.”
“We’re at the Hilton Hotel on Sixth and Fifty-fifth Street.”
“That sounds good. We’re only about ten minutes away from there. Can you meet us in the lobby at”—Wil checked the time on the radio in the car—“at seven p.m.? We should be able to find somewhere to park by then.”
“Yes, we’ll be there.”
A minute later, Wil and Larry were on their way to the Hilton Hotel, hoping to find something that would tell them why someone had killed thirty-two-year-old Diego Martinez on an unusually warm late October night.
* * *
Chapter 7
Kate’s cell phone rang only seconds after the two detectives had left her apartment. She glanced down at her phone to see who was trying to reach her. Trevor. A little smile spread across her lips, and the ever-brewing pain within her was mitigated by the sudden warmth and sense of gratitude that filled her. Trevor was just the person she wanted to talk to right now. They were so connected that he was the only person who understood just how much she was hurting, even more than her best friend Joanna and her mother. They didn’t know about Trevor’s existence. Well, his continued existence in Kate’s life, that is. They didn’t know that he had remained a part of Kate’s life after Diego had found out about her seeing him every now and then. Kate hadn’t dared telling anyone about that. Joanna in particular had never thought it was a good idea for Kate to keep Trevor in her life in the first place, and certainly not after it had all come to a head.