I cleared my throat. “Not this time, no. A man. In his early thirties.”
They looked briefly at each other in shock. Mrs. Perez spoke, while her husband just stared at us, a look of disbelief on his face.
“That’s still so young. Is it related to Cassandra’s murder you think?” she asked. “It must be because you are here, right? Oh lord, what is happening in this town?”
Her husband clapped her gently on her hands to calm her down. “Let’s hear what the detective has to say, Malia.”
“Yes, yes, of course,” she said. “I’m sorry. Do continue.”
“We believe it might be the same murderer, yes,” I said. “Cause of death is very similar. And that brings me to why I am here.”
I found a picture of Bryan Henderson that I had on my phone and showed it to them.
“Do you know this man?”
They both leaned forward to look at it, and I noticed Mr. Perez winced slightly, then grabbed his side.
“No,” Mrs. Perez said after studying the picture. “I have never seen him before. I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Perez?” I said and looked at him. He was very quiet and seemed lost in his own thoughts for a few seconds while looking at the picture. “Do you recognize this man from anywhere?”
He looked at it closer, then shook his head. “No, no. Don’t think I do. I’m sorry.”
I narrowed my eyes and scrutinized his face. Something about him felt off all of a sudden.
“Are you sure? Because for a second there you looked like you knew him?” I said. “Do you want to look again?”
He shook his head. “No need to. At first when I looked at it, I thought it was someone I knew, but that wasn’t him.”
His wife placed a hand on his arm. “Pete has never been very good with faces.”
I nodded, still looking at him. His eyes avoided mine. “I see. His name is Bryan Henderson. Does that name mean anything to you?”
They looked at each other, then back at me. Mrs. Perez shook her head. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help,” she said.
I rose to my feet. “If you suddenly remember something, then give me a call. Anything, okay?”
They both nodded.
Mr. Perez walked me to the door. He held a hand to his side as he opened it. I was about to walk out, when I hesitated.
“Are you in pain, Mr. Perez?” I asked. “I see you holding a hand to your side and wincing.”
“Yeah, I hurt myself on my bike a couple of days ago. I fell. I may have broken a rib or at least bruised it.”
I looked at where he was holding his hand.
“The ribs are usually higher up,” I said.
He stared at me, eyes wide. “Well, maybe it’s something else then. I should probably have it checked out. Thank you for stopping by, Detective.”
He closed the door as soon as I stepped outside. I stood for a few seconds and looked at the yard, wondering why that visit felt so strange. Something was off.
I had barely finished the thought before my phone rang. I picked it up and rushed toward my car, with it pressed against my ear.
“Hello?” I said, holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, while opening the car door.
“Hello, Mrs. Wilde? This is Diana Schmidt, from Cocoa Beach High.”
I paused and grabbed the phone in my hand, forgetting all about getting into the car. I only got calls from Diana if one of my children was sick or that one time when William got into a fight.
“Yes? Is something wrong?”
Diana cleared her throat. “Well, I just wanted to let you know that Charlene hasn’t been to any of her classes today, and usually you call in first and let us know if she is sick, so I was just wondering if—”
“If I knew she was absent? Well, no, I most certainly didn’t.”
“It’s just so unusual for her,” Diana said. “She’s always here.”
“She should be,” I said, my heart beating faster in my chest. “And you say she hasn’t been to any of her classes? Not even this morning?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” I said and hung up with a deep exhale. Worry began to creep in as I got into the car and took off. Diana was right. This was very unlike my daughter. I didn’t like this one bit.
THIRTY-THREE
Then