Brian Freeman - The Bone House

'Can you describe him?' Cab asked.

'I wish I could. It was pretty dark. He looked like a fairly big guy, but from that height, it's hard to tell. All I saw was his yellow tank top. It was bright, so it was easy to spot. I'm not sure I would have remembered him, but I saw him again a while later, down close to the water. It looked like he was making out with a girl.' 'Where did this girl come from?' Cab asked.

Jensen shook his head. 'I don't know.'

'Did you see her leave the hotel?'

'No, I only saw the guy. I noticed her for the first time when the man approached her on the beach. He came from the north, and she was already there when I spotted them. I couldn't see anything about her, other than it was a girl in a bright bikini.'

'Are you sure it was the same man you saw leaving the hotel?'

'Well, it was the same shirt,' Jensen said.

Cab stopped and looked up at the water-stained ceiling as he heard a heavy thud on the floor overhead. Jensen's face seized with dismay.

'I'm sorry, did you say you live alone now?' Cab asked.

The coach looked embarrassed. He spread his hands as if to say: You caught me. 'I live alone, but I'm finally at a point where I don't always sleep alone, Detective.' 'Ah.'

'You can see why I was a little surprised when you showed up. I was sort of occupied, if you know what I mean.'

'I understand,' Cab told him. 'Just to confirm, you didn't have anyone in the hotel with you in Florida. Right?'

Jensen nodded. 'That's right.'

'What happened when this man in the yellow shirt approached the girl on the beach?' Cab asked.

'They talked for a while,' Jensen said. 'Then it was more than talking.'

'Meaning what exactly?'

'I could see them kissing.'

'Are you sure that was what they were doing?' Cab asked.

Jensen hesitated. 'I just assumed it was what they were doing. Their arms were wrapped around each other, so that's what it looked like. You don't think he could have been hurting her, do you?'

'You tell me.'

Jensen rubbed his hands over his balding head. 'I'm really not sure. I mean, you see two people together like that, you assume they're making out, but now that I think about it…' His voice trailed off, then he started again. 'I don't know, maybe she was struggling. I hope I'm wrong. I hate to think I was watching him kill that poor girl, and I didn't do anything.' 'What happened next?' Cab asked.

'I went back inside and went to bed.'

'You didn't stay on the balcony and watch?'

Jensen smiled. 'I'm not a pervert, Detective. I wasn't going to hang around to see if they had sex. Besides, by that point, I could barely keep my eyes open.'

'What time was this?'

'It must have been a little after three. I remember noticing the clock shortly after I got back in bed, and it was just about three fifteen.'

'Could you identify the girl or the man you saw?' Cab asked.

'No, as I told you, it was too dark.'

'Have you seen a photo of the girl who was killed?'

Jensen nodded. 'Yes, I've seen photos of her in the paper.'

'Do you remember seeing her at all during the time you were in Florida?'

'No, I don't. I'm not saying I didn't, but there were teenage girls all over the hotel. I don't remember her specifically.'

'Have you told anyone else about what you saw?' Cab asked.

'No, I didn't give it a thought until I saw what had happened. Then I called your department.'

'What about the girls on the Green Bay team? Did any of them mention seeing anything unusual in Florida? Have you heard any discussion among them about the murder or about the girl who was killed?'

'No, I haven't.'

'I'd like a list of the girls who were on the school trip with you. As long as I'm in the area, I'd like to interview them personally.'

'You mean today?' Jensen asked.

'If that's not a problem.'

'No, no, no problem. I could just jot down a list from memory right now, if you'd like. I don't have their contact information, though. You'd have to get that from the university.'

'That would be fine,' Cab told him.

'It'll take me just a minute.'

Jensen got up and opened a kitchen drawer and retrieved a notepad and a pen. He scribbled names on the paper, then hesitated with his pen poised in the air, as if he was trying to remember. 'I heard you have a suspect,' he told Cab. is that true? Is that the man I saw?'

'I can't comment on that,' Cab said. 'It would be much better if you didn't read any more articles about the case, Mr Jensen. You shouldn't talk to anyone about it either. If this goes to trial, you'll need to testify, and you'll be asked about things that might have influenced your memory.' 'I understand.'

He finished writing, tore off the page from the pad, and handed it to Cab, who studied the list of names.

Tracey Griffiths

Bracey Berard

Katie Baumgart

Nancy Gaber

Sally Anderson

Paula Davis

Michelle Palmer

Lenie Korbijn

Laura Hansen

Carol Breidenbach

Deb Bodinnar

'This is the whole team?' Cab asked.

Jensen nodded. 'Those are my girls.'

Cab folded the paper and slid it into the pocket of his suit coat. He stood up. 'Thank you for your help, Mr Jensen. I think that's all for now. If I have any more questions, I'll give you a call.' 'Of course.'

Jensen led him out of the kitchen. As the coach opened the front door, Cab glanced up the stairs, and Jensen followed his eyes and gave him an awkward smile.

'I'll let you get back to what you were doing,' Cab told him. 'Thank you. Good luck with your investigation, Detective.' Jensen closed the door, and Cab ducked through the swaying trees to the Corvette. He climbed inside, eyeing the dirty sky, which promised to open up in heavy rain before it was night. The wide street was empty of traffic. The upstairs level of Gary Jensen's house was barely visible through the thick web of maple branches, but he could see curtains drawn across all of the windows.

He wasn't impressed with Jensen as a witness. The man qualified everything he'd seen with 'maybe' and 'I'm not sure', as if he'd begun to regret opening his mouth in the first place. A smart defense attorney like Archibald Gale would shred him on a witness stand. There was also something about Jensen's demeanor that made Cab uneasy. He didn't like him.

He retrieved the coach's list from his pocket. He wanted to know what the rest of the Green Bay dance team had seen in Florida. He was ready to drive back to the university, but before he pulled away from the curb, his phone rang.

Cab heard a raspy voice when he answered. 'Detective, my name is Peter Hoffman.'

He searched his memory and was coming up blank when the man added, 'My son-in-law was Harris Bone.'

'Yes, of course, Mr Hoffman,' Cab said. 'What can I do for you?'

'We need to meet.'

'I know. You're on my list. Where do you live?'

'I'm not far from the ferry landing in Northport. When can you be here?'

Cab checked his watch. 'I'm about ninety minutes south of you right now, Mr Hoffman. I'm in Green Bay, and I have some other interviews to conduct in the next few hours. Can I come by your place first thing in the morning?'

'This can't wait,' Hoffman told him curtly.

Cab paused. He was curious. 'What is it you want to talk about?'

'I have information for you, Detective. It's urgent.'

'What kind of information?'

Hoffman practically spat into the phone. 'I can help you prove that Mark Bradley is the man who killed Glory.'

Mark waited at the pier in Northport for the three o'clock ferry back to Washington Island. He couldn't see the boat out on the water through the fog and haze. His jaw ached where Peter Hoffman had connected with an uppercut of his fist, and he worked it carefully with his hand, feeling a loose molar. He sat and fumed, angry at himself for losing control. It didn't matter that he'd been assaulted and provoked by the old man's threats. He wished that he had ignored Hoffman and pushed his way out of the store. Instead, news of their altercation was probably already flying through the county.