Shaking Apart

Previously: The Coroner and Doug McGuinness from the forensics team offer a few initial findings to the team; the victim’s identity is confirmed.

Photo and Graphic by Annie Wilson

5:25 PM - Saturday, November 1, 2014

Thomas Residence, 341 Infantry Terrace, The Presidio

Paco felt like he was floating as he and Mark climbed the stairs of 341 Infantry Terrace for the second time that day. He tried to ground himself as they stood before the glossy white front door with the wreath of autumn leaves and pumpkins. He looked at Mark and Mark looked back at him, giving him a brief nod as he rang the bell.

An older woman who resembled Carole Thomas answered the door, with Carole emerging from the kitchen down the hall and inviting them into the foyer. 

Mark said something about needing to speak with Carole and Spiro Thomas, and Carole looked between the two of them, seeing the gravity on their faces. Spiro was already coming down the stairs, while Carole instructed the other woman - did she say it was her mother? - to take the younger kids back down to the playroom. 

Carole ushered them through the living room and into the sun porch at the side of the house. The late autumn sunlight was golden as it came in at a low angle, lighting the entire space. Carole must have instinctively known that this conversation needed even more distance from the others than just the living room. 

Spiro stood next to his wife while Mark explained that a body had been discovered in the Presidio that morning, and that they had reason to believe that it was their daughter, Alexa Thomas. Paco heard Carole cry “NO” softly and see her face collapse. Spiro was strong, but seemed to have gone a shade of pale gray. Mark explained that he needed to come with them to identify the body. Paco vaguely heard Carole say “No, please no…” again softly as she looked at Spiro’s face. He seemed dazed, but squeezed his wife’s arm reassuringly. Going to the hall closet, he pulled out a fleece vest with the name of some tech company embroidered on the front and pulled it on over his sweater. 

Looking at Mark, Paco heard him say “Okay,” and nodded at them to lead the way. Carole raced forward and pulled him into a tight hug for a few long moments. Spiro pulled away slightly and stroked her cheek, saying nothing but nodding shakily. Mark lead the way down the stairs and Paco followed.

Paco opened the front passenger seat for him, taking the back seat for himself. He didn’t want a scared father to feel like he was under arrest somehow. They were silent as the SUV looped through the park back to Ft Winfield Scott, he heard Spiro trying to control his breathing, while he tried to control his own. Mark seemed steely, apart from it, but also conscientious. 

They arrived within 5 minutes, and immediately went into the evidence area downstairs. The Coroner greeted them, and ushered them into the next room where a body lay under a sheet. Mark and Paco hugged the wall as the Coroner brought Spiro over to the sheet and pulled it back to reveal the face. Paco thought the room shook; maybe it did. He then realized it was Spiro Thomas shaking — he was shaking apart right in front of them all. 

“Can…can I touch her?” Spiro whispered, raising his eyes to the Coroner.

“I’m sorry no. Not at this point.” He answered. “We still need to process her for evidence.” Spiro choked out a sob, but was clearly trying to hold the next one inside. “I’m sorry sir, we need to ask officially. This is your daughter, Alexa?” 

Spiro nodded and then his face broke. 

“Yes.” He sobbed, the sobs moving through his body like air through an organ that was trying to make notes play while collapsing at the same time. His eyes never left her face. “Yes, this is my daughter. My girl.” 

Paco remembered when he was very small that his Grandmother died, after days of being close to death. All those days his Grandfather sat by her side like a stone figure. He and his cousins would sneak in to see what was happening, which was usually nothing, which they found disappointing; none of them knew what death was, really. Was it quiet, was there light, would someone announce something? His aunties chased him and the cousins away, only allowing them in when it was very near the end. Even then, they were told to stay to the dark corners of the room and keep quiet. Paco knew the tradition though: you were never to speak of the dead once they were gone. He didn’t understand this as a child, and it didn’t make much sense to him as an adult, but the tribe held to this in those days as a way to keep to the traditions. You lived life, and when you were gone, you were gone. Even now he thought of how difficult that would be for him if Imogen died, or someone else he loved. How could you not remember them or speak of them? It didn’t make sense, but it made sense to his people, so he had to be okay with it. He didn’t agree with it, but he respected it. Finally, when his Grandmother sounded her death rattle, his Grandfather holding her hand, they all felt her soul in the room, moving on. It was silent. No noise, no announcement. For him, it was boring, and then there was a feeling of peace, even magic, and then it was over. And then, his Grandfather let out the sound he won’t forget - guttural and grinding and then soaring into a wailing scream. He had never heard anything like it and knew instinctively that he never needed to hear it again. 

It was otherworldly. Like a demon fighting the sun. 

It was the noise he heard this father make in that moment. 

Once he had given up his sobs, Spiro Thomas appeared to not know what to do next. The Coroner had hidden Alexa Thomas’ face again, and Mark noticed that with the white sheet hiding her face, it was as though the man’s eyes couldn’t focus. 

“Mr Thomas, let’s get you upstairs.” He said softly, stepping forward to guide him back toward the door. The girl’s father looked at him vacantly, as though he didn’t know where he was, but recovered quickly and nodded. 

Paco led the way up to the conference room, which Mark realized they had left only an hour before, but it looked shockingly different to him. The sun was setting and the sky outside was a dark blue with the cypress trees silhouetted in black. Otherwise, he realized, the room was the same, but he was different. He pulled out a chair for Spiro while Paco returned with a mug of hot tea for him. Mark thought he could use some of the tea himself. 

“The Coroner will be up shortly with some paperwork.” Mark said to Spiro quietly, and sat down opposite him at the table. Paco came back in with Jeannie and they joined him at the table. Mark almost didn’t recognize Jeannie, he had to remind himself of her name. 

“Mr Thomas, I’m so very sorry.” Jeannie said to him softly, taking a seat. The man nodded at her, weary. “Do you think you may be able to answer a few questions for us?” She asked gently. Jeannie. Jeannie the ringer. The man nodded and seemed to pull himself up to look at all of them.

“Yes, of course.” He whispered, taking a sip of the tea.

“Do you know who else, other than Ryan Dominguez, Alexa was with last night?”

“I’m not sure. I dropped her and Ryan off and they were going to someone’s house on Presidio Terrace - there was a lot of traffic and kids running around. We couldn’t even get close to the place.” He paused, thinking. “I suppose she met up with the regulars - Tally Briggs, MJ, Carolina - some of the soccer team girls.”

“Do you think Seb Podesta was going to be there?” Spiro shook his head.

“I - I don’t know.” He said in disbelief. “I - I feel like if he were, if he were…Alexa always felt very safe with Seb, you know? Does, does Seb know? Does Ryan?” He asked, worry all over his face.

“No sir. No one knows.” 

“To be honest,” Mark interjected, “we want to keep this as quiet as we can for the moment. We wanted to try to minimize the rumor mill that’s sure to happen with the teens.” Spiro took a deep breath.

“Yes, I see what you mean.” The father responded.

“We have a plan to gather the immediate circle of friends, people who were with Alexa last night, and break the news to them in the morning. We’re working with the schools to organize this.” Jeannie offered. “We’re hoping we can gather people’s cell phone images from the party and begin to piece it together.”

“May I ask, sir,” Mark began, “did any of Alexa’s friend’s reach out to you today?”

“No, not at all.” He said, bewildered. “I mean…they’d call Alexa’s phone. We haven’t heard from anyone.” He seemed to shiver. Mark felt cold just seeing it. 

“And, your daughter was wearing a signet ring - with the letter D on it? Would that be for her mother, Daniella?” Jeannie approached this slowly.

“A signet ring?” Spiro was bewildered. “No - I - I never saw her wearing a signet ring. She never wore rings. She had a necklace with a letter D, but not a ring. I don’t know. Maybe Carole knows.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The Coroner arrived with the death certificate, and there was the regulatory signatures and witnessing. Paco and Jeannie had left for this part, and when it was done, Spiro folded the paperwork into thirds and tucked it inside his vest pocket. A whole life reduced to official papers folded up in a pocket. Mark thought the man looked like a shadow of the vibrant businessman he’d first met just a few hours before. 

“Sir, I want you to know we will do everything we can…” Mark said quietly. 

“I know. I know that.” Spiro said, nodding softly. His eyes were wet. “I - I just don’t know how to tell my family.” Mark didn’t know what to say to this.

“I’m so sorry.” He said, “why don’t I take you home, so you can be together.” Spiro nodded, and the two of them slowly got to their feet. 

The car ride was silent, but Mark felt it was only because the man next to him was about to break apart, and likely couldn’t contain himself again once it happened. At least, that was how it would be for him. 

They arrived back at 341 Infantry Terrace and parked. Spiro was out of the SUV quickly, and was already crossing the street to the stairs as Mark was closing the door. It felt like he couldn’t get inside fast enough, or couldn’t lose his nerve with delay, or couldn’t wait get away from the man who’d ruined his life an hour before. Mark followed him up the stairs, just a few behind. Carole was already opening the door, taking barely one look at her husband’s face before sending up a cry. Mark watched them cling to each other under the stately portico, crying. This beautiful, sophisticated couple who were clearly so in love, and who loved their family. How quickly they had been changed into something else, something unrecognizable.