He choked back a yawn and rubbed eyes that’d gone gritty during the long night. “Not yet. We’ll get back to you about next steps. In the meantime, can you tell me what he was doing in DC?”
“He works for an agricultural company here in Spokane and was there for meetings at USDA.”
“Can you get me a point of contact for his company and text it to this number?” He wasn’t sure he’d need the information but wanted to have it anyway.
“Yes, we’ll take care of that. What happens now?”
“Our medical examiner has taken custody of the body and will perform an autopsy, which is standard procedure in a homicide. Once her work is completed, we can coordinate with a funeral home of your choice to transport him home.”
In the background, Gonzo heard a baby crying, and he felt sad for a family torn apart by a senseless murder.
“I can’t believe this has happened. They just had their third child… He’s such a wonderful husband and father.”
“Has he ever been in any kind of trouble?”
After a long pause that had Gonzo standing up a little straighter, she said, “He had some trouble with drugs a few years ago, but he went to rehab and got past that.”
Aw, shit. “How many years ago?”
“Um, I think it’s been four years.”
“What was his drug of choice?”
“Is this really relevant?”
“Everything is relevant in a homicide investigation.”
“He was addicted to heroin and worked very hard to get better for his wife and kids. They’re his everything.” She sniffled. “I can’t believe this has happened to him. What in the world will Trisha and the kids do without him?”
“I’m so sorry for your loss and for hers. We’ll be back in touch with more information later today.”
“Thank you.”
“If you think of anything else that might be relevant to our investigation, even the smallest of things, please be sure to get in touch and pass that request along to your sister as well.”
“I will. I’ll tell her.”
Gonzo ended the call, feeling sad for people he’d never met. Murder came out of nowhere to upset lives that’d been somewhat ordinary beforehand and changed every single thing about the future for those left behind. Having to tell family members that their loved ones had been killed was the most devastating part of a heartbreaking job.
Officer Youncy approached him. “We’ve completed the canvass of all the rooms, Sarge, and haven’t found a single witness.”
She looked as exhausted as he felt.
“You can let everyone go home with my thanks for staying all night.”
“Yes, sir.” She glanced toward the closed door to the ice room, which was sealed off with yellow tape. Crime Scene detectives had quickly processed the room overnight and had left until they were able to access the victim’s room. “Do we know who he was?”
“Dale Carver from Spokane, Washington. Married father of three. Here for meetings at USDA.”
“Damn.”
“I know.” As a recovering addict himself, Gonzo decided to keep the info about Dale’s addiction and recovery to himself until he had a chance to delve deeper into the man’s final hours. He hoped this wasn’t a case of a relapse gone bad. “Go get some sleep. Appreciate your great work and that of Officer Clare. Tell him to take off, too.”
“I will. Sorry we weren’t able to get you more information.”
“At least we know that no one in the hotel saw anything—or if they did, they’re not talking about it.”
“Right.”
