Free Angel's Tip by Alafair Burke Page A

Once the news hits, every member of the press will be scouring this for all the details about Chelsea’s personal life. They need to pull it down.”
    “They’ve got to be on a plane by now. When I talked to them this morning, they sounded like they were literally going straight to the airport once we hung up.”
    “Knock, knock.” Jack Chen rapped his knuckles against an imaginary door. “Detectives, there’s a couple here to see you. They say they’re Chelsea Hart’s parents?”
    “Talk about on cue. ” Ellie gave a mock shudder. “Creepy.”
    Rogan’s phone rang. He held up an index finger toward her before answering. “Rogan…. Correct. That’s my case…. Yes, I believe they just walked into the precinct a second ago…. That goes without saying…. Of course…. I’ll be sure to tell them you called.”
    He returned the handset to its cradle. “Amend that to really fucking creepy. That was the mayor’s deputy chief of staff. Apparently, they want to be certain that we give the Harts our closest attention.”
    They were on their way to the front of the squad room when Dan Eckels popped his head out of his office. “A word with you two?” he said, waving them over.
    “The vic’s parents are up front, sir.”
    “I just got a call from the assistant chief. The Harts have already been in contact with the mayor’s office.”
    “We know, sir. We don’t want to leave them waiting.”
    “Right. You’re taking them to interview three?”
    “Assuming it’s empty,” Ellie said, still following Rogan.
    “I’ll sit in.”
    “Of course. Whatever you want.”
     
    PAUL HART HAD thinning brown hair, ruddy skin, and an extra twenty pounds on his large frame. He wore a light blue crewneck sweater over a collared shirt and navy blue dress slacks. His wife Miriam wore a long black jersey dress that could have been selected either for mourning or simply as a wrinkle-free travel outfit. She had chin-length light gray hair that had probably once been blond, and she seemed unconcerned with her red, puffy eyes or makeup-free face.
    They were probably just hitting fifty, married more than twenty years, and walked into interview room 3 holding hands. Even on the most difficult day of their lives together, the Harts carried themselves like good people.
    Rogan took care of the introductions and gestured for the couple to be seated next to each other. He took the chair on the other side ofthe table. Ellie and Eckels stood against the window of the interview room, creating the impression of more privacy.
    “Thank you for coming so quickly,” Rogan said. “We weren’t expecting you until later tonight.”
    “We made some calls on the way to the airport,” Miriam said. “A friend is a friend of a friend of the CEO of Centennial Wireless. They had a private jet waiting for us at the Fort Wayne Airport.”
    “The people close to us are doing everything they can.” Paul gave his wife’s hand a squeeze. “We’re at least fortunate in that respect.”
    Were Ellie in their position, she did not think she would be able to find anything to be thankful for. She was constantly amazed by the variation in human responses to misfortune.
    “It’s as if we had this entire network of people working the phones for us while we were coming to terms with all this on the plane,” Miriam continued in businesslike fashion. “It turned out that Paul’s brother-in-law was fraternity brothers with someone in your mayor’s office. He made some calls, and now we’re supposed to speak this afternoon with some volunteers with the Polly Klaas Foundation—you know, just to help us navigate the system and figure out what we need to do.”
    “They’re an excellent organization,” Ellie said, wondering if her words sounded as hollow as they felt.
    “You just let us know how we can assist,” Eckels said.
    “You can assist,” Paul said firmly, “by finding the person who murdered our daughter.”
    Ellie intervened before Eckels