“Did Chief Decker assign HSS to this case because of my connection to the department?”
“I think that was part of it,” she conceded. “But it was probably also due to the—explosive nature of the crime scene.”
“You mean the green card on the plate?”
“I do,” she told him. It was clear from Cain’s questions that the usual gentle handling of a spouse wasn’t necessary when explaining the situation to him. “There’s the personal tragedy you’re facing. And then there’s the volatility something like this could cause in the community. I believe the chief wanted Maria’s case handled by a unit used to challenging dynamics. But that’s not your concern. And it’s not our top priority. Our focus is on finding out what happened to your wife and we’re hoping you can help us with that.”
“How can I do that?”
Jessie settled into the sofa cushion, hoping to project a non-accusatory appearance.
“Let’s start by talking about you and Maria,” she said, careful not to sound like she was questioning a suspect. “Tell us how you met.”
He sank into his seat, seemingly overwhelmed by the memory.
“It was three years ago,” he said, seemingly hoarse from crying. “I was at a gala at the Getty Center, celebrating anexhibition on modern South American art. Maria was helping curate it. Her degree was in art history back in Colombia and she had moved here the year before on a work visa as part of a joint project by the Getty and a museum in Bogota. A member of the Getty board introduced us. We hit it off immediately. I asked her out that same week. We started dating. I proposed to Maria after three months together and our wedding was nine months later. We’ve been married for two years now.”
“It sounds like it was a real whirlwind romance,” Jessie said softly.
“I thought so,” Cain replied, choking up slightly. “It was so easy. We fit like hand in glove. I think our biggest argument was over whether to share buttered or unbuttered popcorn when we’d stream a movie.”
Jessie thought it odd that Cain would mention how little he and Maria fought right off the bat. He didn’t sound defensive but she clocked it anyway.
“That sounds lovely,” she said, before pressing ahead. “We heard a little from Sergeant Brasov already, but we were hoping you could give us a little more detail on yesterday evening.”
Cain nodded as he wiped away a tear. “Of course. I’m the chairperson of a scholarship fund for children of LAPD officers. We held a dinner here with six other couples, hoping to secure contributions. It all went very well. But I was pretty wiped out by the end of the night. I guess Maria could tell because she said I should go up to bed before I fell asleep on my feet. I offered to tough it out and help put the clean dishes up. There were a lot. But she said it was okay. That was our last conversation.”
He paused for a moment to regroup. As he did, Jessie made a mental note to ask the research team to do background checks on all the dinner guests. Cain continued.
“I went upstairs and got ready for bed. It takes a few minutes because I use a CPAP machine and it’s a hassle. But once I got everything squared away, I zonked out pretty quickly.”
“And this morning?” Sam wondered.
"Right. Even with the CPAP I had a bad night sleeping. I ended up hitting snooze a couple of times. When I looked over at my phone, it was already 6:30. My tee time was at 6:55, so I started running around like a chicken with my head cut off."
He stopped suddenly at hearing the phrase he’d used.
“It’s okay,” Jessie assured him. “Please go on.”
“I hurried downstairs, grabbed my clubs in the garage, and took off. Didn’t even have time to make coffee or grab a snack.”
“You didn’t look around for Maria?” Jessie asked, tying to keep her tone neutral and not critical.
“She wasn’t in bed but that wasn’t unusual. I get up early on weekdays but she’s almost always up before me on weekends. She does a 4-mile speed walk through the neighborhood three times a week. I thought that’s where she was. I called her from the car on the way to the club but didn’t get an answer. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but now—.”
Again, he stopped to take a deep breath.
“Mr. Cain, I have a tough question for you,” Jessie said. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t ask it.”
“Okay.”
“Would you be okay providing us with the data from your smart watch from last night?”
“Why?” he asked before he suddenly got it. “Oh, you need to confirm my alibi.”
“Your sleep data could prove very useful,” she said, not answering directly.
“Of course you can have it,” he said. “Same with the CPAP. It has all kinds of sensors that track my sleep patterns, any apnea events—all kinds of stuff. You’re welcome to it all.”
