“Mr. Myers?”
The man turned on the ladder and looked down at him. He was about Devine’s height, barrel-chested and strongly built, around forty-five with a thick head of dark hair.
“Yeah?”
“I’m Travis Devine. I work here. I was a friend of Sara Ewes.”
Myers finished with the lights, clipped the cover shut, and climbed down. “That was the worst damn day of my life,” he muttered.
“I bet. It must have been traumatic as hell.”
Myers folded up the ladder and picked up a box of light tubes. He looked at Devine and said, “You want something?”
“Sam told me about you finding her and then mentioned you were up here replacing some lights.”
“Okay, so?”
Devine thought quickly, realizing he was close to blowing this whole thing. “Like I said, I was a friend of hers. I still can’t believe she’s dead. First they said suicide, and now it’s murder. I mean, what the hell, right?”
Myers looked sympathetically at him now. “Yeah, it was a gut punch for everybody. It sure as hell looked like a suicide to me, but what do I know? I never found a dead body before.”
Devine picked up on this. “You found her around eight thirty or so?”
“Something like that, yeah. Told the cops that.”
He started to walk down the hall and Devine kept pace with him as he thought of his next question.
“Sam said you came to the lobby to tell him and that he called the police.”
“That’s right. I was shaking like a baby. Could barely hit the elevator button or swipe my card through.”
“What’d you go in the room for?” asked Devine.
“Look, I already told the cops all this.”
“I know,” said Devine quickly. “It’s . . . it’s just that we were friends and this has really shaken me to my core. I just want to know some of what you know. It might help me process all this.”
Myers studied him curiously for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, I can understand that. The fact is, I went in there to get a damn printer cartridge, if you can believe that. Got a message that one of the big printers in the business center on that floor was low and needed to be replaced. Opened the door and there she was. My ticker must be strong, otherwise I’d be dead.”
“I bet. So is that room normally kept locked?”
“I don’t know about normally. I know I had to use my key to unlock it that morning.”
The ladder banged against Myers’s leg.
“Here, I’ll take that,” said Devine. He relieved the man of the piece of equipment.
“Thanks.”
“Was it a Detective Hancock who told you that Sara had been murdered? Black guy in his forties?”
“No. I heard it on the news, I guess along with everybody else.”
He stopped at a point in the hall and he and Devine set up his ladder. Devine held the ladder steady for him, took the old light from him when he handed it down, and passed him a new light. Myers put it in, clambered back down, and they moved on.
“Was there anyone around when you found her? I mean, in the other offices near the storage room?”
“None of the secretaries were in, least that I saw. Little bit too early for them. I can’t say one way or another for anybody in their offices. Can’t remember hearing or seeing anybody. Told the cops that, too.” He shook his head. “Stupid me, I coulda called down to the security desk from my phone, or any of the other phones up there. But I was so . . . ” He shook his head again and glanced up at Devine. “You ever find a dead body?”
“No,” Devine lied.
“Well, I hope you never do.”
“So you came back up here with Sam, and then what?”
“He took a look-see in the room, probably just to make sure I was telling the truth.”
“And did you notice anyone around then?”
Myers stopped and looked suspiciously at him. “Come on, I know you said you were friends, but why all these questions, buddy? You sound like a cop.”
Devine was now ready for this. “I was in the military. Army Ranger. I have experience with the Army CID.”
“Oh, okay. Hey, thank you for your service.”
“You look like you might have worn the uniform.”
“Wanted to, but my eyesight and hearing weren’t good enough. Failed the physical. Wear a hearing aid and contacts, but they got minimums even with that.”
“Yeah, I know. So anyone else around?”