"No, he didn't make me do anything that I didn't want to do, detective."
"So, you are telling me that during every sexual encounter that you shared with Nate Warner, you were a willing participant? You never felt threatened, and you never participated in anything that you were uncomfortable with, Ms. Hanson?"
"Yes, I mean - no, I don't know. Why are you asking me these questions?" Kali said, her frustration with the line of questioning becoming increasingly evident.
"Ms. Hanson, I am trying to figure out what makes Nate Warner tick, what possible events could have led him, or put him in such a state, that he would feel that murdering a woman would seem like a logical thing for him to do."
Sutton paused, contemplating if what he was about to reveal was wise, given the obvious emotional instability he was witnessing from Kali.
"Ms. Hanson, during the course of this investigation, we subpoenaed Nate Warner's phone records. Including transcripts of text correspondence. We were given a great deal of text transcripts, and those included text conversations between yourself and Mr. Warner." Sutton paused, allowing an opening for her to respond, and when she didn't, Sutton continued, "I read through every conversation had via text between you and Mr. Warner during the time surrounding Laura Carmichael's murder. What I read, would lead me to believe that you may have not been a willing sexual partner, or that you may have felt pressured into certain situations of a sexual nature. Would that be an accurate assumption on my part, Ms. Hanson?"
"I am not going to discuss my sex life with you, Detective Sutton. If you have any questions for me regarding the night you think that woman was murdered, I am happy to answer them, but I will not answer questions about my sexual relationship with Nate Warner." Kali said, as she shifted in her seat, sitting upright, her demeanor switching to that of a professional nature and her eyes looking straight at Sutton's face as if daring him to press the issue.
Sutton knew he had lost all hope of learning anything more about the relationship or specific details regarding the relationship between Kali Hanson and Nate Warner.
"Fair enough, let's talk about the night in question," Sutton said.
"Okay."
"Tell me about your recollection of that evening. What time did you arrive at Nate's residence on December 24, 2009?" Sutton asked.
"I think it was about 9 p.m.," Kali said.
"Did you enter the residence?"
"No," Kali said, her voice becoming strained again as she shifted in her seat.
"Did you see Mr. Warner, speak to him?" Sutton asked, confused by her answer.
"Yes I went to his door, he answered, and he asked me to go home."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. I thought that you found Olivia Foster at Nate's residence on the night in question."
"I did. I saw her car parked on the street near Nate's house," Kali said.
"Did you, at any time, see Ms. Foster in person?" Sutton asked.
"No."
"How did you know she was with Nate?" Sutton asked.
"Like I said before, detective, a woman knows."
"I understand ma'am, but how is it that you came to know?" Sutton asked, his questions coming faster, and the time between questions shortening.
"Detective, as I'm sure you know by reading my private text conversations with Nate Warner, we had an extremely, umm...active, sex life. Nate's appetite for sex was voracious.
When I arrived at his house that night, he didn't allow me to enter; in fact he turned me away at the door. I wasn't a math major in college, detective, nor do I carry a badge, but it doesn't take an advanced degree or investigative experience, to add that up. Olivia's car was parked on his street, he didn't want to have sex with me, and he turned me away at the front door. What other conclusion could one possibly come to?"
"Do you think Olivia Foster was the first woman that Nate had on the side during the course of your relationship, Ms. Hanson?" Sutton asked.
"I would like to say yes, but I suspected he had others the entire length of our relationship," Kali said, a childlike sadness overcoming her.
"When is the last time you saw Olivia Foster?" Sutton asked.
"That night."
"I thought you said you did not see Olivia that night."
"Well, her car. I guess the last time I saw her in person was that morning at the office." Kali began racking her memory and was not even positive that she had seen Olivia at the office that day. It may have been the previous day, Kali wasn't sure. With one hand, she began fidgeting with the sapphire pendant on her necklace, and with the other she started to massage her right temple.
"And when was the next time you saw Nate Warner after that night?"
"Um, I..." Kali said, thinking back to that time. It had all been a blur, she had been blinded by her grief and anger at being betrayed. She couldn't piece the time line together. "I don't know, detective, I didn't really see him anymore after that. He came around many times but I refused to see him."
"So, you haven't seen him since then?" Sutton asked.
"I don't know how to answer that question," Kali said, feeling like an idiot as soon as the statement left her mouth. Of course she knew how to answer that question, but she didn't want to admit, for the second time in the same day, that she had slept with Nate, more than once, since the night he had betrayed her.
"It's a yes or no, ma'am," Sutton said, interrupting her thoughts, his tone terse.
"Yes."
"Can you tell me when, Ms. Hanson? When is the last time you saw Nate Warner?" Sutton asked.
"I don't know. And, I am done answering questions, detective. I think our meeting is over now." Standing up she gathered her things, and turned to say goodbye.
"Oh, Ms. Hanson, one last question, and it's probably nothing, but, well-I have to ask. Do you know a woman by the name of Megan James?"
"Yes, Meg is my best friend, why?"
"Just wondering what her connection to Nate Warner is, or was. Her number was one of many numbers that showed up in Nate Warner's phone records," Sutton said, pausing, while watching the expression upon Kali's face go from blank, to confused, and then to flat out angry. "I figured it was one of his 'others', to quote your term, and hers was just one of many text conversations that revolved around fulfilling Mr. Warners sexual desires. But, as you have made crystal clear a woman knows, so I'm sure you were already aware of their involvement." He finished and watched Kali quite literally fall apart before his eyes. He felt like a heel for dumping that piece on her, and he was certain that she had not known about Megan James and Nate Warner. Sometimes, he thought, the part of the job that required him to rattle the innocent was an extremely unnecessary evil.
Kali placed her hand over her quivering mouth, as if to keep vomit from spewing all over the flooring of the coffee house. She turned and ran down the aged wooden staircase, almost tripping on her way down, and raced out of the building and down to the busy parking lot. It was bustling with people coming and going, and Kali almost knocked down a woman carrying an armful of bags on her way to her vehicle. Once inside her SUV, Kali began sobbing hysterically, hitting the steering wheel and blinded by a rage that threatened to destroy her in that very moment. When she calmed her sobbing enough to examine her surroundings, she pulled her rear view mirror down and looked at her wet, red face, snot dripping from her nose and clinging to her lips and chin. Black mascara lined her cheeks like skid marks left by an emergency stop made on a grime-stained freeway off ramp. She had to move. She feared if she sat still for one more minute, she would become paralyzed by her pain and stay there, in that parking lot, with her snot stained face frozen in time - killed by a broken heart and on display, like a freak show, for all the world to see.
Needing time to pull it together, Kali decided to make the drive back to Carlsbad. She would change into her running clothes at home and put in some miles, to clear her head, or run away, she wasn't sure which, and she didn't care. All she knew was that she couldn't afford to think anymore right now. She had to erase the pain from her mind, and she had to do it soon.
When Sutton arrived back at the station, he made his way up to the unit floor and sat at his desk to dial Andrew's number. He wanted to give the man a heads up that his new girl was on the verge of a breakdown and also wanted to let him know that he was heading out of town for a few days in hopes that would prevent his partner from having to deal with any unexpected visits by the big guy, to the station.
Andrew's voicemail came on, and Sutton left a brief message with the information he had intended to relay. Then he pulled up his email account and printed out his boarding pass for his flight to Portland. On his way to the elevator, he dropped a handwritten note on Ryan's desk with his flight information and a request for his partner to keep tabs on Andrew while he was in Portland.
Sutton swung by his small house in Mission Hills, threw some articles of clothing and his shaving kit into an overnight carry-on, and headed for Lindbergh Field. Once he made it to the boarding gate, he tried Andrew again. The call went straight to voicemail this time, and Sutton hung up without leaving another message. Perhaps Ms. Hanson had already contacted Andrew, and he was busy dealing with her out of control emotions after discovering that what she had thought had been the biggest betrayal, committed by Olivia Foster, was only the tip of the iceberg. It struck him as curious that a woman with so much going for her could or would become involved with a man who seemed unwilling to practice monogamy. Sutton sat there wondering what made people tick, and how strange it was to look on, from the outside, at how messy interpersonal relationships could become. Given enough free will, and with a leader as twisted as Nate, the web had spun seemingly out of control until someone died, paying the ultimate price for playing a game so wrought with deception.
It was tough to garner total sympathy for any woman that would be involved in such an abstruse fashion, with a man who was transparent in his dark desires. Nate Warner, however, was a master at manipulation and the women he preyed on all had one common thread. At the time they entered Nate's life, they were vulnerable in some fashion, each one of them. Nate played them like chess pieces, moving them this way and that, until he had them in a position where they had no moves left except for the move that would fell their respective kingdoms, taking the entire court with them as they spiraled downward, until finally hitting bottom. Kali Hanson had never counted the cost, and may never fully recover from what her relationship with Nate Warner had cost in emotional currency. Olivia Foster, Sutton feared may have paid a much higher price than she had ever intended to. And, Laura Carmichael he knew had already paid the full price, with her life.
Cases like this left Sutton feeling content with his single status. The complexity of relationships, and the probability that they would eventually end in heartache of some sort, made him glad that he didn't have such issues to dwell over.
The overhead speaker inside the airport announced the final boarding call for his flight to Portland, tearing him away from his thoughts. He moved toward the boarding gate and was looking forward to a few hours of peaceful sleep during the flight.
Sitting in his rental car parked across from Nate's house, Andrew saw another incoming call from Sutton and hit the decline button, forcing the call to voicemail. He didn't want to hear the detective advising him to stay away from Nate. He didn't want to talk to Sutton, period. He was furious with the whole department.
He had been parked in the same spot for over three hours, no sign of Nate. He intended to remain there until the man turned up figuring that, eventually, he would have to come home. And then Andrew would have his chance to end the game.
Nate Warner was just about to shut down his laptop sitting on top of his square, metal office desk, when he heard the familiar ding from the running site. Satisfaction with his decision to keep the duffle in his truck for just such an occasion made him smile. He had hoped she might grant him access to carry out the next part in his plan, while he was away from the house.
Interrupted by a text message alert, he looked down at his iPhone to find a message from Megan.
You available?
Not tonight. I need you soon.
How soon?
Where are you tonight, Megan?
I'm on the Island
All night?
Yes, why?
Do not ask questions, Megan.
I'm sorry
Call me tonight after you get into bed
Yes, Master
Turning his focus back to the laptop, he viewed Kali's run map route, thrilled that she had set it at ten miles on the stretch of beach near her condo in Carlsbad. That opened up a host of possible places to catch her off guard, and with the sun setting on the chilly, early winter night, he knew the beach would be nearly empty. Ten miles, he thought, that's a stretch for her. She would be exhausted half way through making her easy prey. Knowing Kali intimately, he realized that setting her run map for ten miles meant that she was upset about something. Maybe she had had a falling out with the man who had spent the night in her bed recently. She might be ready to have him back. Nate knew no man could ever satisfy her after being with him. He knew he had ruined her for any other man. Try as she might, Kali would not be able to replace him, or what he gave her. In a momentary place of weakness, he thought of allowing her to beg his forgiveness, allowing her a glimmer of hope that she might find a way out of the pain that she was about to feel, the pain he would slowly inflict on her body. Closing his eyes, he visualized a scene in his mind, where her eyes held the key, the key to unlock his fury, or the key to lock it away for good; bringing to light the tenderness he had hidden inside, the part of him he had only given to her. Then he flashed to her naked body, saddled up next to an unfamiliar male in her bed, the one that still smelled of the sex they had had upon it. The rage returned. As he opened his eyes, flashes of hot anger brewing in them. He closed the laptop, put it into his satchel, and headed out to his truck.