“It’s just… I remembered something.”
“Remembered something?”
“About that night.”
The night Kara was murdered. “Okay. What’d you remember.”
“Well, it was earlier, you know, when I went to put my clothes in the wash.”
There’s a long pause. “Uh-huh.”
“I was searching for coins because those machines eat money.”
I remain silent.
“Anyway, when I was heading down, I saw Kara. She must’ve just been getting home.”
“What time was this?”
“I’d say around eight or so.”
“And was there something significant about seeing Kara?”
“Well, no.” She hesitates. “Well, sort of. She was all dressed up, you know, like she was going to a job interview or something.”
Interesting. Where would she have been going at that time dressed up?
“That’s not it, though. It was the thing she was holding.”
“Which was?”
“A big pink envelope.”
“Pink?”
“Yeah, like hot pink… magenta.”
I do my best to remember the list of items we took from her apartment. No pink envelope that I recall.
“And you said big? Like nine by twelve?”
“Yeah, like one of those bigger ones that holds a full sheet of paper.”
“Okay. That’s good information.”
“It is?” She sounds sincerely surprised.
“It is. I’ll check tomorrow to see if we recovered a large pink envelope. You may have cracked this case wide open.” I chuckle.
“Oh.” Silence, then, “You’re teasing me.” Her voice changes in that instant to something that sounds distinctly hurt.
“No. I mean it. It’s a line from every old cop show ever made. I’ve always wanted to say it.” But now I don’t plan to say it ever again.
“Oh.” She sounds unsure. “Okay. Well, thanks. Good night.”
“Wait,” I say too loudly. “I really mean it. That’s very helpful, and it could be a key to all of this.”
“Really?”
