Blizzard,’ wouldn’t you say?”
He lifted one shoulder as if to say, Boston fans are tough. In the background, she heard the soft digital tones of a cell phone ringing, but not hers.
“Who’s the guy in the kitchen?” the detective asked.
“He was with me all day. Since morning.”
“I didn’t ask for his alibi. I asked who he was.”
“He’s—”
“John Christiano.” Johnny stood in the doorway and extended one hand. “I’m her friend.” He held up his cell phone. “I’m going to take this call outside.”
“Did he know your roommate?” Detective Cervaris asked when Johnny left.
“No. We just met recently.”
He opened the closet door with a handkerchief. “How’d you meet?”
“A blind date,” she said.
“Is this her stuff?” He eased some of the clothes aside, but there was very little room to move a hanger.
“Yes. I’m waiting for her parents to come and collect all her things. I imagine they’ll put the apartment on the market, since it belonged to her. Are you going to dust for prints?”
“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up.” He glanced at the bed. “Didn’t I read that she OD’d?”
“Not on illegal drugs. She ingested a massive quantity of an herb called ephedra. They don’t consider that a technical overdose.”
“Ma huang,” he said. “Chinese stuff.”
“Yes, a derivative of that. It’s taken for weight loss.” Not that Keisha needed to lose an ounce, but all the dancers were obsessive about their Monday morning weigh-ins. Keisha spent most Sundays starving and drinking water to avoid Glenda’s wrath. They slavishly drank her carb-free weight-loss drinks and even reported their menstrual cycles to account for water-weight gain. Keisha had hated all that, but had been smart enough to cooperate to keep the bosses happy.
“Not very easy to commit suicide with that stuff,” the detective commented. “Of course, combined with enough caffeine and an energy drink or six, you could pretty much suffocate yourself, or induce a heart attack and stroke.” He gave her a questioning look. “Is that how she did it?”
“According to the medical examiner, yes. But she wasn’t unhappy,” Sage said again. “And she wasn’t…” Her gaze drifted to the wall. “A whore.”
His expression softened. “I’ll have some prints taken and we’ll run tests for hairs, trace evidence. I take it you’ve cleaned this room since the original crime scene investigation?”
“Yes. When will you take the evidence?”
“Today. Soon. Don’t leave,” he said, folding the paper she’d given him earlier with the information about Keisha’s computer she’d taken off the system disks in the drawer. “I’ll start running the serial number of the computer and see if it shows up in pawnshops. Are you sure nothing else is missing?”
“Her jewelry’s all there.” Sage pointed to the bureau. “And it’s expensive.”
“That was a twelve-hundred-dollar computer,” he said.
“True, but the Chanel watch is worth more.”
“What’s on the computer is sometimes more valuable. Credit card information, private e-mails.” He gave her a pointed look. “Compromising photography.”
“I’ve been through every inch of her computer and there were no naked pictures, if that’s what you’re implying. But there was something interesting.”
He tucked a hand into his trouser pocket. “I like interesting. What was it?”
She explained about takemetonite.com and the fact that Keisha had never shown up for her appointment. She gave him the information she had, and prayed like hell he wouldn’t track Johnny to the site.
“There could be a connection,” she said after he’d written it all down. “But I haven’t been able to find one.”
“I’ll check that out, and the investigation that took place when your roommate died,” he said. “In the meantime, please let me know if anything else is missing.”
Thanking him and taking his card, Sage showed him to
He lifted one shoulder as if to say, Boston fans are tough. In the background, she heard the soft digital tones of a cell phone ringing, but not hers.
“Who’s the guy in the kitchen?” the detective asked.
“He was with me all day. Since morning.”
“I didn’t ask for his alibi. I asked who he was.”
“He’s—”
“John Christiano.” Johnny stood in the doorway and extended one hand. “I’m her friend.” He held up his cell phone. “I’m going to take this call outside.”
“Did he know your roommate?” Detective Cervaris asked when Johnny left.
“No. We just met recently.”
He opened the closet door with a handkerchief. “How’d you meet?”
“A blind date,” she said.
“Is this her stuff?” He eased some of the clothes aside, but there was very little room to move a hanger.
“Yes. I’m waiting for her parents to come and collect all her things. I imagine they’ll put the apartment on the market, since it belonged to her. Are you going to dust for prints?”
“Yeah, but don’t get your hopes up.” He glanced at the bed. “Didn’t I read that she OD’d?”
“Not on illegal drugs. She ingested a massive quantity of an herb called ephedra. They don’t consider that a technical overdose.”
“Ma huang,” he said. “Chinese stuff.”
“Yes, a derivative of that. It’s taken for weight loss.” Not that Keisha needed to lose an ounce, but all the dancers were obsessive about their Monday morning weigh-ins. Keisha spent most Sundays starving and drinking water to avoid Glenda’s wrath. They slavishly drank her carb-free weight-loss drinks and even reported their menstrual cycles to account for water-weight gain. Keisha had hated all that, but had been smart enough to cooperate to keep the bosses happy.
“Not very easy to commit suicide with that stuff,” the detective commented. “Of course, combined with enough caffeine and an energy drink or six, you could pretty much suffocate yourself, or induce a heart attack and stroke.” He gave her a questioning look. “Is that how she did it?”
“According to the medical examiner, yes. But she wasn’t unhappy,” Sage said again. “And she wasn’t…” Her gaze drifted to the wall. “A whore.”
His expression softened. “I’ll have some prints taken and we’ll run tests for hairs, trace evidence. I take it you’ve cleaned this room since the original crime scene investigation?”
“Yes. When will you take the evidence?”
“Today. Soon. Don’t leave,” he said, folding the paper she’d given him earlier with the information about Keisha’s computer she’d taken off the system disks in the drawer. “I’ll start running the serial number of the computer and see if it shows up in pawnshops. Are you sure nothing else is missing?”
“Her jewelry’s all there.” Sage pointed to the bureau. “And it’s expensive.”
“That was a twelve-hundred-dollar computer,” he said.
“True, but the Chanel watch is worth more.”
“What’s on the computer is sometimes more valuable. Credit card information, private e-mails.” He gave her a pointed look. “Compromising photography.”
“I’ve been through every inch of her computer and there were no naked pictures, if that’s what you’re implying. But there was something interesting.”
He tucked a hand into his trouser pocket. “I like interesting. What was it?”
She explained about takemetonite.com and the fact that Keisha had never shown up for her appointment. She gave him the information she had, and prayed like hell he wouldn’t track Johnny to the site.
“There could be a connection,” she said after he’d written it all down. “But I haven’t been able to find one.”
“I’ll check that out, and the investigation that took place when your roommate died,” he said. “In the meantime, please let me know if anything else is missing.”
Thanking him and taking his card, Sage showed him to
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