I put on makeup and fed Erzulie, and then drove the four blocks to the Aroma Café. A rare parking space opened on Tujunga, giving me a short jaunt to the customers waiting in line outside. I didn’t see Carla Pratt, so I cruised through the tables inside and on both patios. I spotted her at the rear of the courtyard, sipping an iced drink and reading her BlackBerry at a table tucked in the corner.
When I got to the table she removed her gold-rimmed glasses and smiled at me. Her sandy brown bangs were dark with sweat, her hair cropped even tighter around her ears and neck than the last time I saw her. In her mid-forties, she carried the guarded, pale-faced demeanor of a career city detective. Her gray two-button suit must have felt like a heating pad on her sturdy frame, but removing the jacket would mean exposing the gun I knew she carried on her belt.
“Dr. Cooper.” She indicated the empty chair across the small table. “Did you order?”
“You can still call me Liz. I didn’t order. I wanted to find you before I got in line. I’ll be right back.” When I returned to the table with an iced tea, Carla dabbed beads of sweat off her forehead. “Would you rather sit inside where it’s cooler?” I suggested.
“Not unless you want to. I’m used to the heat.” She pulled a small notebook from her jacket pocket. “It’s private here, easier for us to talk. Nice place.”
We eased in with small talk, and then she told me about her transfer from Northeast to the West Valley station. An opportunity, she explained as she handed me her new business card, for advancement to Detective II.
“Have you seen Dave recently?” she said.
“We were together last night at the Dodger game.”
“Ah.” Her brows shot up. “And are you still close to your friend the professor?”
“Nick? Yes. He told me he saw you today.”
“He did.” She opened her notebook. “As I mentioned on the phone, your name came up this morning in the homicide investigation I’m working on.”
“At Jarret’s house.”
“Yes, Mr. Cooper’s home. I understand he’s your…” She tilted her head, waiting for me to finish.
“Ex-husband. We’ve been divorced for four years. What would you like to know? Ask away.”
Carla clicked her pen. “Actually, I prefer for you to do the talking. Would you tell me in your own words where you were this morning?”
“Where do you want me to begin?”
“Wherever’s comfortable. Take your time.”
I stopped, considering how to verify my whereabouts, and decided to begin with the gym. “I went to work out this morning, early, around seven. After exercising I took a shower…” I rambled out details with nervous tension knotting my shoulders—hesitant to place myself at the scene of Laycee’s murder. Carla jotted notes while she listened to my insignificant details with more patience than I would have had. I explained my decision to drive to Jarret’s to pick up the last box of books waiting in his kitchen. “I left the gym and drove to the house—”
“What time was that?”
“I left Game On at seven fifty-five,” I said. “I remember thinking I would miss Jarret when he left for his morning run at eight.”
“Did anyone at the gym see you leave?”
I paused. “Earl Good, one of the trainers. A few members, but I don’t have their last names. Earl saw me. He’ll know me by name.”
She made a note and gestured for me to continue.
“When I got to Royal Oaks, I pulled into Jarret’s drive, opened the garage, entered the kitchen, got the box, and then went home.”
“What time were you at the house?” Carla said.
“Traffic along Ventura Boulevard jammed on the way there. I’d say I arrived at his house a little past eight-thirty or so, picked up the box off the kitchen counter, turned around, and left. I didn’t see or hear anything.”
“Did anyone witness your arrival or your exit?”
“No one. It’s a quiet—” I held up my finger. “Wait. I passed one of the neighbors walking her dog when I pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t stop to talk to her. I was already late to meet the plumber at my place.”
“How often do you visit your ex-husband’s home?”
“Aside from yesterday and today? Never. And yesterday I didn’t go inside at all. Jarret waited for me in the driveway, put some boxes in my trunk, then I left.”
“Did you notice anything unusual about the house?”
“Unusual? No. No cars in the driveway. The garage door was closed when I arrived. Jarret leaves his kitchen door unlocked, so I opened the garage—”
She looked up, questioning. “How did you open it?”
“I have the combination. I used to live there.”
“You knew the combination was the same or Mr. Cooper told you it was?”