“I do,” she said and glanced at him for a quick second. “Really.”
“OK,” he said. “Cool.”
Avery kept driving, focusing on the road and on the changing neighborhood, forcing herself to snap back into work mode.
Henrietta Venemeer’s parents lived in an apartment complex just past the cemetery on Central Avenue. From Detective Simms, Avery had learned they were both retired and would most likely be found at home. She hadn’t called in advance. A hard lesson she’d learned early on was that a warning call could alert a possible killer.
At the building, Avery parked and they both walked up to the front door.
Ramirez rang the buzzer.
A long pause ensued before an elderly female answered.
“Yes? Who is it?”
“Mrs. Venemeer, this is Detective Ramirez with the A1 police division. I’m here with my partner, Detective Black. Can we please come up and speak with you?”
“Who?”
Avery leaned forward.
“Police,” she snapped. “Please unlock the front door.”
The door buzzed open.
Avery smiled at Ramirez.
“That’s how you do it,” she said.
“You never cease to amaze me, Detective Black.”
The Venemeers lived on the fifth floor. By the time Avery and Ramirez exited the elevator, they could see an elderly woman peeking out from behind a locked door.
Avery took lead.
“Hi, Mrs. Venemeer,” she said in her softest and clearest voice. “I’m Detective Black and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez.” They both flashed their badges. “Can we come in?”
Mrs. Venemeer had a tangle of wiry hair just like her daughter, only hers was white. She wore thick black glasses and had on a white nightgown.
“What’s this all about?” she worried.
“I think this would be easier if we could talk inside,” Avery said.
“All right,” she mumbled and let them in.
The entire apartment smelled like mothballs and old age. Ramirez made a face and jokingly waved at his nose the moment they entered. Avery hit him in the arm.
A television blared from the living room. On the couch was a large man that Avery assumed was Mr. Venemeer. He was dressed only in red boxers and a T-shirt that he probably wore to bed, and he seemed to have no awareness of them at all.
Oddly, Mrs. Venemeer sat down on the couch beside her husband, without any indication of where Avery or Ramirez might sit.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
A game show played on the TV. The sound was loud. Every so often, the husband cheered from his seat, settled down, and mumbled to himself.
“Can you turn down the TV?” Ramirez asked.
“Oh no,” she said. “John has to watch his Wheel of Fortune.”
“This is about your daughter,” Avery added. “We really need to talk to you, and we’d like your full attention.”
“Honey,” she said and touched her husband’s arm. “These two officers want to talk about Henrietta.”
He shrugged and growled.
Ramirez turned the television off.
“Hey!” John yelled. “What are you doing!? Turn that back on!”
He sounded drunk.
A bottle of half-filled bourbon was beside him.
Avery stood next to Ramirez and introduced them again.
“Hi,” she said, “my name is Detective Black and this is my partner, Detective Ramirez. We have some very difficult news to share.”
“I’ll tell you what’s difficult!” John snapped. “It’s difficult dealing with a bunch of cops when I’m in the middle of my television program. Turn on that goddamn TV!” he snapped and tried to get out of his seat, but he couldn’t seem to stand.
“Your daughter is dead,” Ramirez said, and he squatted down to look him right in the eyes. “Do you understand? Your daughter is dead.”
“What?” Mrs. Venemeer whispered.
“Henrietta?” John mumbled and sat back.
“I’m so sorry about this,” Avery said.
“How?” the old woman mumbled. “I don’t…no. Not Henrietta.”
“Tell us what you’re talking about!” John scoffed. “You can’t come in here and say our daughter is dead. What the hell do you mean?!”
Ramirez took a seat.
Denial, Avery thought. And anger.
“She was found dead this morning,” Ramirez said, “and identified because of her position within the community. We’re not sure why it happened. Right now, we have a lot of questions. If you can, please just bear with us during this time and help answer some of them.”
“How?” the mother cried. “How did it happen?”