I Can't Really Explain
Previously: The team speaks with Dash Reilly for his version of Friday night.
9:49 AM - Sunday, November 2, 2014
Flood Mansion, Pacific Heights, San Francisco
“He’s not telling us everything.” Paco said simply after Dash Reilly left, closing the door behind him and the Dean.
“Yeah, but we’ll get there.” Mark said, opening his laptop. Jeannie leaned back and took a few deep breaths. “I’m sending an email to someone to track down the Hartman receipt from Costco - if he bought up with intent to provide it to minors…that’s something.”
“When are we going to ask these guys about Lake Tahoe?” Paco asked. Mark and Jeannie looked at him, which made him wonder if they knew something he didn’t. Then Jeannie looked at Mark, eyebrows raised.
“I guess…” Jeannie began.
“We need to know about Friday.” Mark jumped in, turning his head between both of them. “And I’m okay with it not coming up right away. Let them think no one knows for a minute.” He looked at Paco, “Right?” Paco leaned back.
“Yeah.” Paco conceded, realizing what Mark said was adding up, but not wanting to admit it.
“We need a timeline of Friday before we can establish any motive.” Mark was firm. Jeannie inhaled and nodded.
“Friday Friday Friday.” She said to herself softly, gazing at the tabletop. “What Dash said about the Hartmans makes Jim Hartman’s behavior make more sense.”
“That guy’s a piece of work.” Paco said.
“And slippery.” Jeannie added, looking at him. “I don’t know. The way he looked at me. He’s scary. Or trying to intimidate.”
“Trying to…” Mark said, typing in his laptop.
“Probably intimidates his kid too.” Paco tossed out. Mark propped his elbow up and leaned on his fist.
“Why would you pull a kid from just answering a few questions? I mean, the girl was at your home and died less than an hour or two later? Why wouldn’t you want to help?” Mark asked to no one. “Because you know what happened or you don’t trust your own kid?” Jeannie sighed.
“The Hartmans are pretty old school as a family. Maybe it goes back to that - not wanting some kind of a public wrongdoing. I don’t know. But that man is awful.”
“Mackenzie Zinn? We’re ready for you.” Jeannie said at the door; the Dean of Holy Heart was already seated inside with Mark. Paco watched the little redhead come in and flop down in the chair nervously. Mark took her through the consent form and Raj started in on her phone. The girl had a wad of tissues clutched in her hand that she used to fidget.
“Zizi, thank you for being here. We’re going to record this, okay?” Jeannie asked. The girl nodded. Jeannie had her give her full name and birthdate for the record. “Are you Zizi for Zizi Jeanmaire1?” Paco had no idea who that was, but Zizi brightened.
“Yes, you know about her?”
“Not much, but I know she was a famous dancer. And you’re a dancer.”
“I used to be.” Jeannie tilted her head sympathetically.
“Really, why not any more?”
“Um, I tore my ACL last spring, and I just…” the girl looked down, “I don’t know I guess I just didn’t miss it all that much. I mean, I miss it, but now I can do other things, you know? And I was never going to be more than a corps or feature, so…” Jeannie gave her a small smile.
“I understand. So, you attend Holy Heart, and other than dance what are your activities?”
“Um, I do debate club and French club, but I’m kind of figuring it out. It’s sort of new for me to have time that isn’t for ballet.”
“Sure. And next year, where are you thinking of going?” Fresh tears started on Zizi - her fair skin took a pink tone.
“I don’t know. I was going to try for Julliard, but now that’s not happening.” She sighed. “I - I guess that’s something I need to think about.” She looked down, hiccuping with tears, and finally realizing she had tissues in her hand, used them to dab her face. Jeannie considered her with a slight smile.
“You remind me of someone — have you ever seen the film The Red Shoes?” Zizi shook her head. “Yeah, it’s an old one, but really really good. It’s about ballet. The star is a dancer named Moira Shearer2 and she had red hair like you have. You should check it out, it’s a great film.” Zizi nodded slightly. Paco was amazed at how Jeannie knew just what to say to bring the girl back to the conversation ever so gently.
“Thanks.” She whispered, recovering a little.
“Okay, I need to ask you some questions about Friday.” Zizi nodded. “Can you tell me what your afternoon was like?”
“I had my last class around 2 and then I tutor an eighth grader in geography and history, so we met I guess around 3?”
“Where did you meet?”
“In the lower school library. And then when we were done we walked down Fillmore to the Starbucks for snacks and her Mom picked her up there.”
“What time was that?”
“I guess like 4:30?”
“And then where did you go?”
The interview went on with the basics of Zizi’s afternoon, revealing nothing transformative. Finally, Jeannie got more direct.
“Zizi, how well did you know Alexa Thomas?”
“Um, not super well, but she was nice. We’d talk at parties sometimes and I’ve been to her house, but we aren’t super close or anything. She helped us kind of make our flapper costumes a little cooler - some feathers, headbands - she knew how to do it to make us look less…like the whole outfit was from Amazon.”
“Okay, and was she in a good mood lately, or anything troubling her?” Zizi thought for a minute, her eyes focusing somewhere in front of her. A large tear started to form.
“Um, no. Not at all. Actually, she just seemed really happy lately. Like, easy. Silly and laughing a lot. It wasn’t like last year.”
“What was last year like?”
“I don’t know, she seemed sort of…like, stressed? I can’t really explain it, but this year’s just so different, she’s like, relaxed and just happy.” Zizi swallowed, her forehead wrinkling. “Was.” She added quietly.
“Okay, and on Friday night, do you remember seeing Alexa Thomas at Tripp Hartman’s house?”
“Sure, of course, she had made her dress and it was amazing - that butterfly dress from The Hunger Games?” Jeannie nodded.
“And who was she with?”
“Um, I saw her with her friend Ryan for a while, but then she was sort of on her own - Ryan kind of wasn’t around after a bit.”
“Any idea where he went?”
“No - he just wasn’t there. It was a party, you know, he could have been anywhere.”
“So what did Alexa do?”
“She was dancing, talking with Carolina and Tally, she talked with Charlie a little.”
“Where was Charlie - dancing with everyone?”
“No, Charlie was the DJ. He was doing the music.”
“He’s a DJ? I didn’t know Charlie was a DJ.”
“Yeah, he’s really good. But then…but then I remember Seb and Dash arrived and she seemed sort of stressed again. Like it was a different vibe when they showed up and she kind of stopped smiling. I can’t really explain...”
“Okay, and did you see any alcohol visible on Friday night?”
“Sure, the little Tito’s were everywhere. Tripp had them in the garage but people were pulling out handfuls and passing them around. And then there were more when we got to Inspiration Point. And I think the punch was spiked - it was orange drink, but it smelled boozy. I tried some, but couldn’t finish it.”
“And did you have one of the Tito’s?” Zizi looked abashed.
“Yes, and I got sick.”
“You did?”
“Yeah I don’t really drink, but I figured since I didn’t have dance practice, why not? And it was a mistake. Just threw it right up there in the dirt. I’m a lightweight. It was really embarrassing.” Jeannie gave her a smile.
“Don’t be embarrassed. Things happen. Did you feel okay the next day?”
“Yeah, no headache even.”
“Good. And did you happen to see anyone in a wolf mask at Inspiration Point?”
“No - I mean, Seb was Teen Wolf and Dash was Wolverine, but I didn’t see wolf masks. But maybe I was out of it. I went home after I got sick - I called my Dad and he picked me up.”
“Where did he pick you up?”
“At the parking lot for the golf course, across from Inspiration Point? We took MJ home too.”
“Okay, thanks Zizi, you can get your phone - you’re free to go.” Zizi picked up her bag and phone and headed toward the door where the Dean met her and put a gentle hand around her shoulders, ushering her out.
Renée Marcelle "Zizi" Jeanmaire - a French ballet dancer, actress & singer. Active from the late 1940s through the 1950s, on the stage and in Hollywood films. Beginning in the 1960s, she had Yves Saint Laurent create her costumes for her revues in Paris, becoming a close friend of the designer. She danced until the early 1980s, collaborating on shows with her husband, choreographer Roland Petit.
Moira Shearer King - a Scottish ballet dancer & actress, famous for her film collaborations with Powell & Pressburger, including The Red Shoes and The Tales of Hoffman. In 1972, she was chosen to present the Eurovision Song Contest for the BBC, when it was held in Edinburgh.
You are brilliant!!!