“Did that have to do with your print guys or the conditions in the apartment?”
Dale sighed. “Spangler isn’t the best tech in the world. But the wood on the balcony was rough and splintered, and it’d been raining, so everything was damp.” He shrugged. “I think the jerk just got lucky.”
“How could Chloe afford that jewelry? From what I read, she was pretty close to homeless just a few months earlier. I would’ve thought she’d have pawned that stuff long ago.”
“Me, too.” Dale’s expression was sad. “But they might’ve had sentimental value, gifts from friends back when she was still big-time-”
“Did she tell you who gave it to her?”
“She said a bunch of different people. Her manager, a boyfriend… she didn’t give me any names. But she didn’t flinch when I told her I’d have to run the photos to see if they turned up in any pawnshops.”
So however she’d acquired that jewelry, it was legit. “What can you tell me about those neighbors who say they heard you and Chloe fighting that night?”
Dale stared down at his hands for a long moment. When he looked up, there was real pain in his eyes. “That they’re telling the truth. We did have a fight. A big one. Chloe was high. She’d started using again in the past few weeks, and we’d gotten into it a few times. But that night it really got ugly. She slapped me, started scratching and clawing at me. I tried to hold her off, but she just kept coming. I-I hit her.” He rubbed his face, and his hand covered his mouth briefly, as though he wanted to stop the next words from coming out. “Harder than I meant to-”
“Where? In the head? The stomach?”
“I think… the side of her head. It’s all kind of a blur now. We’d both been drinking.” Dale swallowed hard. “I started to leave, but she came at me again. She took a couple of swings. I think I shoved her, but I might’ve hit her again… I don’t know. I just know she fell down.”
“Did anyone take photos of you?”
Dale nodded. “When I got arrested. But it’d been more than a week by then. I don’t know if the photos will show much.” He looked at me, his eyes pleading. “You’ve got to believe me-when I left her apartment, she was alive. I know she was.”
“Did she say anything?”
“Yeah, when I said I was sorry, she told me to go fuck myself.”
“Where was she? On the floor? On the bed? What was she doing?” The more detail he could give about how she’d looked when he left her, the more credible he’d sound.
Dale paused and let his gaze drift over my shoulder. “She was on the floor. And she was starting to push herself up.”
