“That’s a hell no.”
“Right.” Vail set the frame back on the coffee table. “Did you ever know him to have a heterosexual relationship?”
“Nope. I mean, he was married, you know that. Other than that, no.”
“How’d his wife die?” Ramos asked.
“Accident.”
Ramos tilted his head. “Car accident?”
Vail knew the details surrounding Rhonda Marcks’s death but would let Kubiak answer—sometimes you learned a morsel of long-withheld information that was not reported to the police.
“She slipped on a skate in the garage and fell backwards, hit her head on the concrete. Smashed it in pretty good.”
“Well, that sucks.” Ramos glanced at Vail.
Vail knew what he was thinking: he was not convinced that’s what really happened to Rhonda Marcks.
“Any witnesses?”
“No,” Vail said. “Patrol officer checked the scene, didn’t think it looked like anything but an accident so he didn’t call detectives. He wrote a standard one-page report. Body went to the ME for an autopsy because it was an unwitnessed death—and the ME categorized the method of death as an accident.”
Ramos swung back to Kubiak. “Did Marcks have any other homosexual encounters after that one you … described?”
“No. I—I don’t know.”
“Your old school buddy Vincent Stuckey said that there were a couple of bars that Marcks used to go to.”
“Yeah. Rock ’em Hard was one of them.”
“That’s a gay bar,” Ramos said.
Vail gave Ramos a quick glance. “And the other?”
“Yellow Lantern. We’d just go hang out, drink after work. Watch the Redskins on Sundays.”
“You know Marcks is out to kill Jasmine,” Vail said.
Kubiak turned away. “I told him to think long and hard about what he’s doing.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. He doesn’t really talk about her much.”
“Do you know why he wants to kill her?”
“Pretty damn obvious. What she wrote in her book really pissed him off. But we didn’t talk much while he was at Potter. We couldn’t.”
“You ever ask him about the murders?”
“You crazy?” Kubiak chuckled. “I didn’t dare. But like I said, he wasn’t on my block. I mostly just passed him short notes, sometimes taped to an envelope with shit in it—spices, cigarettes, that kind of stuff—things I could toss into his cell as I passed.”
Not sure how much I believe that, either.
“What about Booker Gaines?”
“What about him?”
Vail lowered her chin, her face drooping in disappointment. “Lance, you know what we’re after. We’re looking for Gaines because we’ve got questions, same ones we’ve asked you. He may know where we can find Rocky.”
“Don’t know where he is. Was living in Richmond but I dropped by his apartment once and he’d moved.”
“Anything you can tell us?”
Kubiak examined the ceiling. “Not really. That’s all I know. Haven’t heard from him in, I don’t know, maybe a year.”
“What about Scott MacFarlane?”
“Mac, man, I haven’t talked to him in a long time. He and I grew apart.”
“Why’s that?”
Kubiak tapped his right foot on the floor. “He accused me of being the enemy. Couldn’t believe I’d go into law enforcement.”
“The dark side, eh?”
Kubiak looked hard at her. “Not funny. Wouldn’t talk to me after I got my badge. Wouldn’t even look at me.”
She turned to Ramos to see if he had any other questions. He shook his head. “Okay, Lance. Thanks for your help. I’ll let the prosecutor know you were cooperative. And I won’t even tell her I had to threaten you.
“Prosecutor? Couldn’t we just let it go?”
“Like a speeding ticket?” Ramos asked. “Wink, wink to the officer, ask for a warning.”
Kubiak shrugged. “Something like that.”
“Yeah,” Vail said. “But no. That never works, anyway, does it?”
“Only if you’re a knockout blonde with a nice rack,” Ramos said.
Vail looked at him.
“Just sayin’. It does happen.”
“I’ll be right back,” Vail said. “Which way to the restroom?”
Kubiak hesitated a second. “Uh—”
“Got a long drive back.”
His gaze met Vail’s, which was intended to convey something like, “You’re actually thinking about telling me I can’t use your bathroom?”
I can tell him I have my period, which would really make him squirm. His shoulders rolled forward slightly in acquiescence—body language that told Vail there was something in the house worth hiding from her. But is it in plain sight?
“Second door on the right.”