“We don’t know if they’re connected,” Mimi said. “If it’s determined that they are, we want to know early so we can respond in a coordinated way.”
“What connects them?” Sal asked. “Was the other person a young girl also?” The “girl” came out just short of goyl. Mimi glanced at Zochi.
“No, she was an older woman,” Zochi said. “There’s no obvious connection between her and your daughter, but . . . there is a man who knew them both.”
“A man?” Linda asked. “What man?”
“His name is Joseph DeSantos,” Zochi said. “We believe Mr. DeSantos’s mother was the older woman who was found . . . the way your daughter was found.”
“Oh my God,” Linda said again. She looked a little faint. “Joe?”
“Did you know him?” Zochi asked. She took out a notepad.
Sal looked foggy and confused. “Joe? He was her boyfriend for a time.” He looked at Linda. “Not for a while now, though, right?”
“Yes,” Linda said. Clearly she was the parent who was closest to Holly. That wasn’t surprising, but there were mother-daughter relationships that were closer than others. It was heartbreaking but obvious to Zochi that Linda had been very close to her daughter. The two had talked probably every day. She could just tell.
“Do you remember when they stopped seeing each other?” Mimi asked.
“It was early October, last year,” Linda said, confirming everything Zochi had suspected. They talked all the time. Like friends. “We didn’t approve. Joe was much older, but he seemed like a nice man. She always went for men who were older.”
“I see,” Mimi said. She also seemed to sense that mother and daughter were tight. “Mrs. Rossi, did your daughter talk to you about the relationship?”
“She did, yes. Like I said, we didn’t approve. He was very good to her, but . . .” She trailed off.
“It’s okay to tell us,” Mimi said. “I hope you understand why we need to know.”
“Joe drank,” Linda said, as if throwing a phrase aside she no longer wanted to think about. “She tried to help him with it, but it didn’t get better. She ended the relationship last fall because of it. She said Joe took it very well, though. I can’t imagine he would hurt her. I mean . . .”
“We don’t know anything for sure,” Mimi said and gave a nod to Zochi, as if to hand things off to her.
“That’s right,” Zochi said. “We’re looking at everything. Did you ever meet Joe in person?”
“Once,” Linda said. “He came to the house for a Labor Day block party. He was nice.”
“Respectful,” Sal said to no one in particular, as if he had reflected on it for some time.
“Yes,” Linda said. “It was awkward, though, and he knew it. He’s closer in age to us than he is to—” she lurched forward and gripped her stomach. For a moment Zochi thought Linda might throw up, but that didn’t happen. She just doubled over and sobbed.
“It’s okay,” Mimi said, just above a whisper. Sal put a hand over his eyes and heaved quietly. “It’s okay.”
Linda seemed to pull herself together and sat up straight.
“I’m sorry,” she said. Sal swiped his face with a big hand, as if wiping the tears back into his head.
“Please don’t be,” Mimi said. “We’re so sorry to be asking these questions. We just want to find the person who did this to your daughter.”
“This other case,” Sal said, “Joe’s mother? We don’t know anything about her, but has it been in the news, like our Hallelujah’s case?”
“Not prominently, no,” Mimi said, and Zochi could tell she was stepping carefully. No one in KCDA or the NYPD wanted the press to connect the two cases yet, but it was inevitable. There had been some small takes already from crime-beat writers in the local papers about an old woman, probably homeless, found on the beach at Coney Island.
“But . . . an old woman?” Sal asked. “I mean, the city isn’t like it used to be. That kind of thing doesn’t happen much, does it?”
“Well, no,” Mimi said, “but—”
“Was she at home?”
“She wasn’t,” Mimi said, looking to Zochi like she was unsure of what to say. “We don’t know where she lived. She was estranged from Joe. I’m not sure if you knew that. They had not seen each other in many years.”