When Heat and Rook left Interrogation, Detective Ochoa was waiting in the observation booth, staring through the magic mirror at Gable. “Can’t believe you wrapped this interview and didn’t ask the most important question.” When he had their attention, he continued, “How did that swamp doofus get a babe like Kimberly Starr into the sack?”
“You are so superficial,” said Heat. “It’s not about looks. It’s about money.”
“Weird Al,” said Raley when the three of them entered the squad room. “‘It’s Raining Men’? My guess is Al Yankovic.”
“Nope,” said Rook. “The song was written by…Ah, I could tell you, but where’s the sport in that? Keep trying. But no fair Googling.”
Nikki Heat sat at her desk and swiveled to face the bullpen. “Can I break up tonight’s episode of Jeopardy! for a little police work? Ochoa, what do we know about Kimberly Starr’s alibi?”
“We know it doesn’t check out. Well, I know, and now you do, too. She was at Dino-?Bites today but left shortly after she got there. Her kid ate his tar pit soup with the nanny, not his mom.”
“What time did she leave?” asked Heat.
Ochoa flipped through his notes. “Manager says around one, one-?fifteen.”
Rook said, “I told you I got a vibe off Kimberly Starr, didn’t I?”
“You like Kimberly Starr as a suspect?” asked Raley.
“Here’s how it spins for me.” Rook sat on Heat’s desk. She noticed him wince from the rib kicks he’d taken and wished he would get himself checked out. “Our adoring trophy wife-?and-?mother has been getting sweet lovin’ on the side. Her punch pal Barry, no looker he, claims she dropped him like a sack of hammers when his hedge fund cratered and his money supply pinched off. Hence today’s assault. Who knows, maybe our dead gazillionaire kept the little missus on a short money leash. Or maybe Matthew Starr found out about her affair and she killed him.”
Raley nodded. “Does look bad that she was cheating on him.”
“I have a novel idea,” said Heat. “Why don’t we do this thing called an investigation? Gather evidence, assemble some facts. Somehow that might sound better in court than, ‘Here’s how it spins for me.’”
Rook took out his Moleskine notebook. “Excellent. This is all going to be swell in my article.” He clicked a pen theatrically to needle her. “So what do we investigate first?”
“Raley,” said Heat, “check out the Beacon, see if Gable’s been a regular there. Show them a picture of Mrs. Starr while you’re at it. Ochoa, how soon can you pull together a background check on our trophy widow?”
“How’s first thing tomorrow?”
“OK, but I was kind of hoping for first thing tomorrow.”
Rook raised his hand. “Question? Why not just pick her up? I would love to see what happens when you set her down in your hall of mirrors.”
“Much as I live my day to provide you with top entertainment, I’m going to hold off until I learn a little more. Besides, she’s not going anywhere.”