death, finding it too difficult to deal with their grief and their clients. Angelo gave Jake and Louie their home addresses and phone numbers. They started with the one closest to work. Jake wanted them interviewed as soon as possible.
First on the list was Sara Hurdle. She lived in the west end of town. Jake knocked on Hurdle’s door. It opened only a couple of inches. A swollen green eye surrounded by red peered out at them through heavy security chains. “Ms. Hurdle, can we come in?” Jake asked as they identified themselves and offered their badges.
She pushed the door closed. He heard the rattle of chains as the door reopened. Though it was eighty something degrees outside, Sara stood there in a ratty, terry cloth bathrobe, bathed in grief. A grief he understood too well. The woman also looked scared.
“Some of my questions will be difficult but your answers will help Chelsea. May I call you Sara?” Beforehand, he and Louie had agreed he’d start the questioning.
“Yes, Sara’s fine.” She wiped at her eyes with a crumpled up tissue.
“We need to ask you about Friday night,” Jake said still standing by the door.
“I’ve racked my brains for the last two hours trying to find answers. Nothing. I don’t have any.” Sara sobbed. “If we thought Chelsea was in any kind of trouble or someone was bothering her, we wouldn’t have let her leave by herself.” She wiped her tears. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason for you to be sorry, Sara. Chelsea’s death is a tragedy. Are those new locks on your door?” Jake asked, as they walked into the living room. Sara sat on the couch, Louie sat beside Sara on the burgundy sofa. Jake took a well-worn easy chair with a zig-zag print that dated back to the fifties.
“Yes, I changed them out last week when Chelsea went missing. It doesn’t make any sense, but her disappearance scared me. I thought the new locks would help put me at ease.”
“Why are you frightened, Sara?” Louie took over the questioning.
“This is something you read about in the newspapers, not something you expect to happen to you or anyone close to you. Deep down I knew something bad happened to her. Chelsea disappearing is out of character. When I say it out loud, it sounds stupid…”
“No, it doesn’t. What we need to do is go through the whole night piece by piece. Are up to it?” Louie gentled his voice.
“I’ll do anything I can to help. Chelsea was the best person in the whole world. We were friends as well as coworkers. I can’t believe she’s gone.” Sara started sobbing again. Louie took her hand and patted it gently.
Jake’s gaze roamed the room. Homey, but outdated. He wondered if she had continued living in the place where she was raised.
“Sara, I need you to pull yourself together. This is important. It will help Chelsea.” Louie’s voice held a firm gentleness, which seemed to bring the grieving woman around.
“I called her kids today. It was a difficult conversation. What can you say at a time like this? Everything seems trivial.”
“I’m sure they appreciated the call. What time did you both leave work on Friday?” Louie asked.
“We left at four-thirty.”
“What did you do when you left the office?” Jake listened, content to let Louie run the entire interview. Sara seemed more at ease with him.
“We went over to the Four Seasons for drinks before dinner. We’d decided last week to dine there.” She stopped, gathered her thoughts. “We were seated around six o’clock. Chelsea’s girlfriend joined us a little after six.”
“I thought you always ate at the Hills?” Jake interrupted.
“Most times we did, but that night we decided to change it up.”
“Who was the fourth woman who went to dinner with you?” Louie questioned.
“Jora Stein. She works with us.”
“How long were you at the Four Seasons?”
“Dinner took about an hour. We sat in the restaurant another hour and talked to kill time. We didn’t want to head out to the club too early. We were feeling no pain and enjoying each other’s company. We had cocktails before we ate and then switched to wine with dinner. I had a nice buzz on.”
“Was Chelsea also…flying?” Louie asked.
“No, she always paced herself. One drink lasted her the whole night. Our perpetual designated driver, we called her.”
“What time did you leave the restaurant and head over to the club?” Louie prodded.
“Around eight-thirty because we got to the golf course about eight forty-five and the band hadn’t started yet.”
“What did you do when you got there?” Louie asked.
“Well, we sat at the bar and ordered some drinks. I could tell we were losing Chelsea.”
“How do you mean, ‘losing her’?” Louie questioned.
“Well, she was bored. Chelsea wasn’t a clubber. She used to go out to dinner with us once a month when she was married but always headed right home afterward. After her divorce, she started to go out with us after we ate because Julie pushed her. Chelsea’s a real homebody.” Sara looked up, devastated. “I mean was a real homebody. Her bastard of an ex left her for a twenty-something bimbo.”
“What time did Chelsea leave the bar?” Jake took over.
“She left around ten o’clock. She didn’t even give the band a chance. Said she had a headache. We tried to talk her into staying. She wouldn’t hear of it.” Sara’s tears started again. “It was the last time we saw her.” Guilt washed over her face. Jake sympathized. You couldn’t change the past though he wished and prayed like a little kid when Eva had died that he could. “We should have walked her to her car,” Sara sobbed.
“Did you usually walk each other to your cars?” Jake asked.
“No, we didn’t unless the bar was in a crappy neighborhood.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Sara. Monday morning quarterbacking never accomplished anything. Did she mention whether she planned on meeting anyone after she left there?” Jake continued the questioning.
“No, not Chelsea. If she said she was going home, she went home.”
“Was she talking or flirting with anyone at the bar who she blew off when she left?”
“No, Julie hooked up with some loser from high school. I don’t know his name, Julie would. Chelsea would never ever hook up with someone.”
“Here’s my card if you remember anything else. We’re sorry for your loss,” Louie said.
Once outside of Sara’s apartment, Jake said, “The woman appears to have floated through life without a blemish.”
“Yeah, a quiet woman, one who’s admired, and now she’s dead. It’s pointing
