“It’s not a talk,” Montrose says. “This is an interview. About your wife’s murder.”

Adam’s face goes a little pink. “I know that, Detective. I just didn’t know that there was going to be two of you.” He looks at me once more. “Kind of feel ambushed here, Lee.”

“Not the intent,” I tell him. “Just procedure. We’re a small team here, but when we can, we prefer two detectives in the room. This will be fine. Take a seat, okay?”

Adam sits down across from us. I notice the beginnings of a little underarm sweat staining his formerly pristine shirt. He’s nervous. That’s fine. I’d be nervous too if I were hauled into the sheriff’s office to talk about the murder of someone close to me. Not because I’d be guilty, but because being so close to evil is pretty daunting stuff.

“We’re going to record this, Adam,” Montrose says. “Again, procedure.”

Adam keeps his eyes fixed in my direction.

“Should I have a lawyer here, Lee?”

Montrose responds right away. “Do you think you need one?”

“You are not a suspect,” I say, which is how I feel. Unlike Montrose. He hasn’t written Adam off his list yet. I’m hoping that this interview ties up the loose ends we collected while interviewing others associated with the case.

Adam appears to relax in his chair. Montrose presses the “On” button on the recorder.

“Okay,” I begin, “we’re going to cover a few things that need clarification, Adam. Some of these things might seem inconsequential to you or even hard to remember, but do your best. Okay?”

I realize that I just gave Adam an out by saying he might not remember. Montrose’s going to ream me on that later. If he caught it.

“We’ve been going over some witness statements,” I say.

“Right,” Montrose jumps in. “You know we’ve been out interviewing people, and we have some statements that are in conflict with your account of what happened.”

“Really?” Adam says, blinking. “That surprises me. I was kind of a mess when we talked, but I thought I’d covered everything as accurately as possible.”

“Let’s start with the 911 call made by Mr. Bakker,” I say.

“Okay, what about it?”

“He says you told him that your cell phone didn’t get reception there.”

“Yeah. That’s right.”

Montrose leans forward a little. “Then how come you were able to phone Sophie’s parents to get them there?”

“Cell service wasn’t great,” Adam says, “but sometimes it worked. I guess it worked then.”

“All right,” I say. “Can you tell us what Sophie was wearing when you last saw her?”