We followed her long stride into a subtly lit living room that smelled of lemon oil and some sort of designer perfume.
Maria Diffenbach joined Ashley Herrera, folding herself onto a taupe sectional with the ease of a professional dancer. Milo and I took two facing easy chairs on the other side of a five-foot-square marble coffee table. The walls were white, the floors bleached pine. Art consisted of three oversized abstractions. The place was open-layout but shutters blocked every window.
Ashley Herrera said, “So now Heck’s back on the street.”
“Crazy,” said Maria Diffenbach.
Both women were around forty, tall, trim, and brunette with tight faces under identical bob hairdos. Herrera wore a black top over black leggings and orange running shoes, Diffenbach a black top over gray leggings and peacock-blue running shoes. No facial resemblance but the gestalt was twin-like.
Diffenbach smiled. “No, we’re not sisters, it’s just one of those weird things, that’s how we met.”
“At the gym,” said Herrera. “People kept telling me my doppelgänger had just been there and I finally saw her.” She turned serious. “The gym’s also where we met Sophie. The three of us speed-ellipticaled.”
Diffenbach said, “When Ashley told me what you told her Icouldn’t believe it. We thought it was settled with his arrest. That made sense.”
Milo said, “Heck being guilty.”
“It’s always like that, right? Some sicko ex who can’t deal? Mythankfullyformer husband stalked me for eight months before he found someone else to annoy. I actually bought a gun. A Glock like you guys use.”
Ashley Herrera leaned forward. “Lieutenant, was there some sort of procedural screwup that forced you to let him go?”
“No,” said Milo. “We’re no longer looking at Mr. Heck as a suspect. Is there some reason you suspected him other than his being Sophie’s ex?”
“Did Sophie tell us he was scary? No, but she did say he wasn’t very happy when she dumped him.”
Milo said, “Why’d she dump him?”
Maria Diffenbach said, “She kept hoping he’d turn interesting but he didn’t.”
“She found him boring.”
“To say the least,” said Herrera. “Sounded like he had the fascination level of drying paint. Sure, on the surface, he looked okay. Had a job, cute enough, and decent in the…physical department. But after a while it turned stale.” She tapped her temple.
“Guys like that, all ego, bye-bye brain cells,” said Diffenbach. “Sophie was a smart woman. She needed more than muscles and a BMW.”
I said, “How’d Heck express his unhappiness with the breakup?”
Herrera said, “Sophie didn’t go into details. I’m assuming he said things to her.”
“But no stalking or harassment.”
“Not as far as I know. You hear different, Mar?”
Diffenbach shook her head. “Can I ask you guys what was…done to Sophie? Because aren’t there differences in how people you know as opposed to strangers…do it?”
“Getting up close and personal,” said Herrera. “Strangulation, stabbing.”
“Or that terrible thing, overkill,” said Diffenbach. “All the paper said was Sophie was murdered and they didn’t cover it extensively, just one paragraph in the beginning and after that, crickets. Same with the internet until Heck was arrested and even then there wasn’t much. A suspect’s been arrested, along with his name blah blah blah.”
“Same old story,” said Herrera. “Sophie wasn’t famous enough to matter. Just a normal, great person.”
Diffenbach said, “We—actually me—called your station and tried to get details but the person I spoke to was really closemouthed. I told them I was a friend and would be happy to talk to a detective and they took my number. But no one ever got back to me.”
Milo’s jaw tightened. “Sorry about that.”
“So was it like that? Something terrible up close and personal?”
Milo said, “Sorry, we need to keep all that close to the vest.”
