mere fraction of an inch. "Where the hell would I go, dude? Tell me. Where would I go?"
Brock hands rose trying to calm Dawson down. "Okay. Can I get you something to drink? I need to run through a few things, but I'll be back."
"Am I under arrest?"
"No. You are not a suspect at this time."
"I would never hurt anyone, Detective."
"I believe you, man."
"Detective?"
Brock turned at the door. "Yes?"
"She really said I hurt her?"
"Yes."
Dawson nodded and closed his eye. "I wish he would have killed me."
14
Kallie waited with Lieutenant Davidson in the observation room. Watching Dawson's interview had been enlightening. The man was broken. Absolutely broken, but broken they could work with. Brock stepped into the room with his cell phone pushed to his ear. He held up a finger quickly, "I'm calling the impound lot. If Cynthia was driving the car, we should be able to tell."
"How?" Kallie moved away from the table where she'd been leaning.
"Seat position for starters. Samuel Treyson was over six feet tall. She's what? Maybe five feet tall?" Davidson said quietly from the other side of the room.
"We need to ascertain if there was anything of Cynthia's left in the car. Phone, purse, coat, whatever. If she drove it over the bank and hurt herself, she was trying to save herself, not her shit."
Kallie pointed at Brock. "You said it was filled with mud."
"Yeah, that is what Brody said. He was going to have the techs go through it. Hopefully they've had time to shovel all that shit out." Brock held up a finger stalling their conversation and spoke for several minutes before he ended the call. "They are about halfway through mucking it out. They are documenting everything, bucket by bucket, so there are no questions as to how they found anything or what they found. So far, they can tell me that the seat was forward, but until they get it cleared out, they don’t know what size human would fit comfortably behind the wheel."
"Good. So, based on what Kallie has told me and what I just witnessed, what are your combined guts telling you?" Davidson assumed what Kallie was beginning to realize was his thinking stance. Feet shoulder width apart, hands in his pockets, and weight back on his heels.
Kallie sat on the table and sighed. "We need to validate Dawson was at Fire and Ice like he said he was."
"Agreed. The people he was with need to be interviewed, and we need the security feed at the club."
"Give me that information. I'll have Bettis and Hansen run that down. We can get that video and confirm his alibi. In the meantime, you hold both of them." Brock scribbled the information on a sheet of legal paper left on the table Kallie was sitting on. “Run with the assumption Dawson is telling the truth. The next time you talk to Ms. White or him, it is under rights advisement. We don't want anything to slip through the cracks."
"Roger that." Kallie acknowledged his directive. It wasn't needed. She wasn't going to say a word to Cynthia without Mirandizing her, but hey, he was the boss, and he was covering their asses.
Brock shook his head while staring at the toe of his boot. "I don't know how she'd slit his throat, though. Like you said, she's small. What could she possibly say that would put him to his knees–voluntarily?"
Davidson nodded. "The wound on Treyson mimics the threat Dawson alleges Cynthia made to him. That detail wasn't given to the media, so Dawson wouldn't know about it. Those threats are oddly specific to the crime." Davidson grabbed the handle of the door. "Work this hard. I'm going to give you high cover and keep this shit contained, but if the press gets wind you have two people in custody, they are going to start circling looking for a carcass."
"Roger that, sir," Kallie and Brock acknowledged at the same time.
After the door shut, Kallie bounced all the information through her head again, looking for anything to use. "Physically could she do it?"
"If he went to his knees voluntarily." Brock nodded. "Yes. All she'd need is a sharp knife and the element of surprise."
Kallie stared at her partner. "Why would he go to his knees though?"
"I got nothing." Brock shrugged. "I mean, Samuel is a stand-up guy, right? He knows Dawson is in a shit relationship."
Kallie flipped through her notebook, looking for any fragment of information that would give them an indication as to why Samuel