In the car, Reyes turned to his partner. “Did something about that guy strike you as off? He’s rigid. Almost unaffected for a man who may have just lost his wife to suicide.”
Will puffed out his lower lip. “He’s not my cup of tea, but his story makes sense enough. You contact the secretary. See if it checks out.”
“I will.” Reyes eyed the house as they backed out of the drive. “I don’t know what it is,” he said, “but there’s something he’s not saying.”
“WHAT ARE WEdoing here?” Will asked.
The bridge stretched before them like a silver expressway. “This is it,” Reyes told him. “The bridge she names in the letter. I thought we should walk it. Maybe she’s still here, contemplating. Or maybe she left something on the walkway. If we can confirm the jump…”
“Then we know where to look for the body,” Will finished, glancing at the river. “Let’s go.”
They took their time scanning the pavement, the water below them, looking for anything that might indicate she was there.
“It’s odd, isn’t it?” he asked Will, pondering the note.
“What is?” Will was focused on the ground, looking for something of use.
Reyes squinted. “That she would name the specific bridgeaftershe told him not to look for her. If you didn’t want someone to look, wouldn’t you leave that out?”
Will shrugged. “The bridge is kind of a given. She probably knew that and figured it didn’t matter. Or maybe deep down she did want him to come after her.”
He nodded. Will’s explanation was plausible, but it still didn’tsit right. Nothing about this did. He’d felt a nagging, uncomfortable recognition of that man, though he was sure he’d never met him before.
Reyes was beginning to doubt they’d find anything when the stain came into view, near the pinnacle of the bridge. “You see what I see?” he asked his partner as they approached the maroon splat dried out against the bleached concrete.
Will frowned. “Such a weird color.”
“What is this?” Reyes asked. “Some kind of juice?”
“Vomit,” Will answered him, pointing to some pulpy bits. “She was sick here.”
“Scared?” Reyes asked.
“Maybe,” Will said. He looked over the edge into the water. “Wouldn’t you be?” He glanced upward at a nearby camera. “We’ll need that CCTV footage to confirm if we don’t find a body.”
“We might need it anyway,” Reyes said, still staring at the colorful stain. “We should get a sample of this.”
“Really?” Will asked with a raised brow.
“Make sure it matches the substance on the letter. What if it’s something she ate? Something… I don’t know. Toxic? A kind of safety net.”
Will looked unconvinced. “A safety net for a suicide? She wanted to die, Emil. What would she need a safety net for?”
“That’s what I mean,” Reyes said, scratching a bit of the pulp up with his pen, depositing it into another bag. “In case the fall didn’t kill her, or she chickened out. Something to make sure she died no matter what.”
“Like an overdose of sleeping pills or something,” Will said, catching on. “You seen a medication this color?”
“Besides cough syrup?” Reyes gave his partner a quizzical look. “No. I doubt it’s medicine.”
“What then?” Will asked.
Reyes shrugged. “Something else. Some kind of plant maybe?”
“Looks like fruit punch,” Will told him. “I’ll never drink Minute Maid again.”
Reyes laughed. His partner had an unusual sense of humor that kicked in at the oddest times, a side effect of the job. Processing the things that they had to led to some uncommon coping mechanisms. “That’s it,” he said, handing him the bag. “You’re a genius, man. It’s probably a berry of some kind.”
“A berry?” Will didn’t follow.
