“Constance and Winston,” Lucas said, “you guys should join him in looking over what they have.”
They both stood.
O’Connor waved a finger. “Before we do that, I’d like to do the proper witness interview of Ms. Clarke, which we buggered up before.” He pivoted to Peyton. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“Leighton?” Lucas prompted.
She nodded.
“Great,” O’Connor said, waving in Peyton’s direction. “After we talk,I’m going to get a motel room and get some shuteye while you guys get set up.”
Peyton
Zane ledus to his office.
Detective O’Connor took Zane’s seat behind the desk. I sat across from him while he set up a voice recorder on the desk, and Zane took the chair next to me.
O’Connor shook his head. “You can wait outside.”
Zane didn’t move. “I’m staying.” He slid his hand over to hold mine.
“That’s not how we conduct these,” O’Connor said firmly. “Ms. Clarke, I assume you’d like this all to be over so you can get back to your life.”
I nodded. “Of course.” Being free of the Strangler would be such a relief. I placed a reassuring hand over Zane’s. “I’ll be fine.”
After a deep breath, Zane stood, still holding my hand. “I’ll be outside.”
“I know.” I squeezed his hand and let go.
After the door closed behind Zane, the detective started by dictating the date and time and his badge number. Then he asked me my name, birthdate, and address in Boston.
“Okay, Leighton,” he said when we were ready to begin.
I had to get used to responding to my name again. I’d spent so much time unlearning that and training myself to react to my new names.
“Tell me what you saw the night Cassandra Moulton disappeared.”
I nodded. “I walked into the Heavenly Garden about six-thirty.”
“You’re referring to the Chinese restaurant in Brookline?”
“Yes. I was picking up takeout for myself.”
“Why there? Isn’t that quite a distance from where you lived?”
“A guy once took me there, and I was in the mood for beggar’s chicken. It’s the only place I know that has it on the menu.”
O’Connor hunched forward. “Were you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Go on.”
“While I was waiting, I glanced around and noticed Cassie—Cassandra—waving at me from a table. She was sitting with a man. I knew she was meeting a date for dinner, but I didn’t know where.”
“The Cassandra you’re referring to is Cassandra Moulton?” he asked.
“Yes.”
