"I know the areas very well" Nash told him.
"I don't rember the hospital. I don't even rember the railroad."
"They are near the residential area you spoke about, though," I said softly as I went through the map application on my phone and pulled it out. I knew where it was. And I had a clue as to who lived in the residential area.
Collins. I might have abused my power to access records and found that one out.
What a wonderful image this was coming out to be.
"Okay, so she was freaking out about sothing you said. What happened then? How did she kick you out?" Nash changed the topic imdiately.
This man didn't do smooth transitions. He used my interjections as punctuation and flitted between conversations.
"Yeah. So, she tried to open the door but it was locked. I didn't want to be in her house when she clearly wanted to get out. So, I exited through the backyard."
"And that's it?" Nash asked in a controlled voice.
"Yup," McCain confird shortly.
I pulled out my cellphone and pushed it towards him. He watched the screen carefully. It was a map.
"Can you tell us where you went from there? Anything that can give us an alibi as to where you were and the tistamps on that so that we can exclude you from the suspect list."
McCain quickly tapped around it to get rid of Nash's invasive questions. He tucked his head and scrutinized while Nash gave him a stare.
His eyes asked if we would apply more pressure or if we should keep feeding him new stories to trap him.
I didn't respond. The current technique was doing fine. Maybe a combination of both? Not pinning it on him was better as he wouldn't clam up and give us all the information.
"Did you go here?" Nash pointed towards a particular road.
"No, I don't rember going here at all." He pressed his finger to his lip to think.
"Mm. We caught you on cara at a store in this area. The clerk rembers talking to you explicitly. You even circled around the store a couple of tis. Why did you go there?"
McCain gritted his teeth before he answered. "I needed to buy sothing I presu."
"You were definitely there, then. That ans you weren't all by yourself composing music all day. So why would you tell us, tell the police that cos to your house"
McCain interjected, trying to exonerate himself. "I told you. I thought it was another day. I told you that I don't know which day it was." He was making animated gestures, trying to get his point across.
"So when did you think you went to her house and the store?" Nash asked, his voice low and firm. He had leaned into McCain, and even though his posture was aggressive, his tone was still calm and sowhat comforting.
"I don't know." He shrugged.
"When did the police co over to your house and call on you to talk about Maya's death, then?" Nash asked.
McCain grew silent. "Yesterday," he was quiet.
"Ah, and when we asked you where you were and the last ti you had gone over to Maya's house, you said you weren't in contact with her for more than a week. You didn't feel the need to tell us that such an interaction had happened and you had lost track of ti as to when it was?" Nash pressed, now unkind.
I tapped on the map on my phone. "Did you get far enough to see the elentary school to the right?" I asked, imdiately when he wouldn't answer.
"I don't know."
"Where did you go after? Straight ho?"
"Yeah. I just I needed to get so air and then go back."
Nash took up the questioning again. "When you last saw Maya, what was she doing? How did she look when you walked out of the house?"
Of course, we didn't expect McCain to tell us that she was lying in a pool of her own blood. That would have been wishful thinking.
"Uh she was looking at her phone."
"Did she walk towards your direction to close the door or sothing?" he inquired, leading him on.
"No I don't think so."
Yes, because the back door had not been closed. Soone from outside would think it was, but you could twist the knob and get in without a hitch.
There was silence. I bit my lip as I looked up at him abashedly. I knew to pretend like I was reluctant to ask sothing so personal. "Can I ask you sothing personal?" I said softly. "It'suhyou ntioned that you had a strained relationship with Maya. You ntioned that she was talking to another guy. You also ntioned that you were talking to another girl. Did you guys have an open relationship while you were together?" I asked.
"Uh not really." He was unsure of how to answer.
"Like it's not been really long since the divorce and it's hard to see new people so early on"
"No. I have a girlfriend and she had a boyfriend. That's all. It was an understanding between us. That, as long as our son was okay, we wouldn't bother about the relationships of the other." I could hear his confidence drop. He started the sentences strongly but eat up the words as his voice dipped towards the end. A classic sign of not being sure of what he was talking about.
"Every marriage has a rough period. Especially in the case of celebrities where the world has their eyes on you and the relationship is volatile." I was pulling out the big guns. I showed sympathy and understanding towards him. To him, he thought empathetic and would open up about his relationship with .
"Yeah" he trailed off, rembering sothing with a faraway look in his eyes.
"How long has the strain been going on, then?" I asked.
"A few years I an" His eyes were glazed. "I didn't tell her about my problems anymore and she didn't want anything to do with . Whenever we got together, we were toxic. God, it looked like a cri scene all the ti."
He shook his head.
Great choice of words there, champ.
"We were great recently. We were understanding towards one another and collaborating to bring up our son." He looked at for reassurance.
"Was Maya only talking to a guy or was she also involved with girls?" Nash asked suddenly, surprising .
I controlled my expression and saw the panic flash in McCain's eyes. Ah, so there had been girls too.
"She did have female friends. She was planning on going out with them for a long weekend soti in the future," he admitted.
"With your son?" Nash confird.
"Yes."
"And how did that make you feel?"
"Lonely." McCain's deanor was small and defeated.
"That's okay those are normal human feelings," Nash reassured. "Did you feel hurt?"
"Well, yeah. I an, she is allowed to go where she wants."
"But still she's your ex-wife and you have a son together. Even if you are divorced and seeing other people, it is tough to see sobody you care about sobody that you love go out with soone without you. And I get that."
There was silence.
"Is that why you were driving around campus all day?" Nash asked. "Cause you missed her?"
"I I had a lot going on in my mind and I needed to think." He paused. "I couldn't compose at all and I cleaned the house all day. And then I wandered."
"Did you talk to other girls that day? When you found out?" I asked.
McCain looked at guiltily.
"It's fine. When we get hurt by the people we love, we want to relieve it. It's natural to choose to hurt them back or feel better from the attention of others. Don't bla yourself for that," I reassured.
"No I didn't talk to anyone else," he said finally.
"And this was yesterday?" Nash tried to confirm.
He blinked. "As I said, I have the days mixed up"
"Okay then the day you went to see Maya, did you text any other girls?" Nash refrad the question.
"I I think so?" he was unsure.
"Okay, fair enough!" Nash rested his case.
We went off into a tangent about where he went for lunch and when he got out of the ho. Where did he go what did he rember? He was driving completely erratically.
At this point, we had been in that room for forty minutes.
"I drive like this sotis to clear my head. I like exploring, so I drive along the small alleys to get familiar with unknown roads. I often get lost and need navigation to get back ho."
"Again not trying to fault you for anything. Sotis days can be a blur, familiar roads can seem new, too."
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