Kinney said, “So then we thought, okay, let’s check the security cameras. But we ran into a problem, see, ’cause they don’t keep the footage past six months. So that didn’t work. But then we lucked out. There’s a camera on the boat itself.”
Her head whipped toward him. Wide-eyed.
He nodded. “On the rear deck, over the entrance. Want to see?”
Without waiting for an answer, he heaved from his chair and cued up another clip, black-and-white, nighttime, fish-eyed, showing the aft deck.
Adam turned up the ramp, followed by Olivia and Damian Roby, walking close together. She was smiling. Bounce in her step. A woman whose evening plans included God knows what.
Kinney paused the video. “Now or never, Olivia.”
She said, “That’s not how it happened.”
“Okay.” He took his seat. “How’d it happen?”
Her version:
The whole thing was Adam’s idea. She was against it. Hated it. It made her sick to think about it, being with another man. She loved Adam, she only loved him. She loved him so much that she gave in. She was afraid he’d leave her if she didn’t agree.
“Who created the profile?” Kinney said.
“Him.”
“It says ‘we.’ ”
“He wrote it.”
“Your picture’s up there.”
“Those were private. They were supposed to be for him. The photo shoot was for his birthday.”
“All Adam.”
“Yes.”
“You had nothing to do with it.”
She shook her head.
“Did he clear it with you in advance, when he made the profile?”
“No.”
“Jeez,” Kinney said. “You must’ve been upset when you found out.”
“I was, yeah.”
“Was Roby the first guy you met with?”
“He was... That was the only time.”
“Okay. Tell me how it went down.”
She shifted. “Adam met him at the bar, to make sure he didn’t seem shady. Then we all went together.”
“To Fuller’s yacht.”
“I didn’t know whose it was. Adam said it belonged to a friend of his parents.”
“Did you ride in Roby’s car and tell him where to go?”
“Not me,” she said. “Adam did.”
“Why’s Roby saying it the other way around?”
“I don’t know. He probably doesn’t remember. He was wasted.”
“How’d you get there?”
“I drove Adam’s car. I didn’t even know the way, I had to put it in my GPS.”
“What happened when you got there?”
“We went on the boat. We drank and smoked.”
“Then?”
“Went upstairs.”
“Did you have sex with Roby?” Kinney asked.
“I started to. I... I couldn’t do it. I told him, I can’t, I’m sorry. He...”
She put her face in her hands, fell silent.
Kinney waited.
“He got really mad,” Olivia said.
She looked up. “He called me a, a cunt. Adam told him to leave, and they started arguing. Then — I don’t know, it just — all of a sudden they were fighting.”
“Who threw the first punch?”
“Him.”
“Roby or Adam?”
“Roby.”
“Did you try to handcuff him?”
“That was Adam. He was trying to get him under control.”
“You had handcuffs with you.”
“Yeah, but not — for me and Adam.”
“To use during sex.”
She nodded.
“Okay. So they’re fighting, Adam’s trying to cuff him. What next?”
“He grabbed Adam’s wallet and ran out,” she said. “Adam ran after him. He chased him downstairs, and I... I could hear them fighting. I wanted to call 911 but I didn’t have my phone, I left it on the bar. I went down. A door was open, I could see Adam standing on the, the edge. He jumped, he...”
Silence.
“I went out and he... was floating in the water. I could see he was dead.”
“How’d you know that?”
“He wasn’t moving, and... His face was in the water.”
“Where was Roby?”
“Running away.”
“Did you call 911?”
Silence.
She said, “I was in shock. I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t even supposed to be there.”
Kinney waited.
“I went home,” she said.
“Did you clean up before you left?”
“A little. I... A little.”
“What about the camera equipment?”
“I put it in Adam’s car.”
“Is that how you got home?” Kinney asked. “In Adam’s car?”
“I took an Uber.”
“Would you be able to show me that on your phone?”
She took it out, scrolled, handed it over.
“Okay.” He gave it back. “What happened with his car?”
“I left it.”
“Parked outside the marina.”
She nodded.
“Why’d you do that? Leave the car there, with the camera.”
“I just needed to get away from there. I was panicking.”
Kinney nodded. “Did you tape what happened? Was the camera rolling?”
“No. Adam wanted to, but we never got to it before...”
She trailed off, shut her eyes, exhaled heavily.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should’ve... I’m sorry.”
Silence.
“I thought nobody would believe me,” she said.
In the squad room, Regina said, “We don’t.”
Winterholz almost spit out his coffee.
Kinney said, “Thank you for your honesty. I know it’s not easy to talk about. But it’s good you’re telling the truth now. That’s the right thing to do.”
Olivia opened her eyes.
“You’re right,” she said. “I feel better.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “A couple things I’d like to clarify. You said this was the first time you guys had ever done this sort of thing, met with another person.”
“First and last.”
“And you’d never been on the boat before.”
“No.”
“Never been to the marina, or that part of Emeryville.”
“No.”
“Okay. That’s helpful. We’re almost done. You need anything?”
“Can I use the bathroom?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
He took the folder and they exited together. We could hear them as they passed in the hall, Kinney saying Just down to the left. Come back when you’re done.
The squad room door opened.
Kinney walked in, handed John Pettit the folder, and clapped him on the shoulder. “Batter up.”
Reentering the interview room, Olivia froze on the threshold, staring at the unfamiliar face.
“Hi Olivia. My name is Detective Pettit. Nice to meet you.”
She said, “You too.”
“Come on in and have a seat.”
She glanced into the hall. Complied. No bounce in her step.
Pettit opened the folder. “This is a record of every time Adam’s key fob was used to gain entrance to the marina. Have a look at it and tell me what you see.”
She took the page. “Dates and times.”
“Three in particular are highlighted. Can you read those? Start at the top.”
“ ‘June 21, 2026,’ ” she read. “ ‘Twelve eleven a.m.’ ”
“That’s the night you, Adam, and Roby were on the boat.”
“I guess.”
“No, it is,” Pettit said.
No response.
“Please,” he said. “Continue.”
Olivia stiffened the paper. “ ‘December 31, 2025. Eleven forty-one p.m. March 29, 2024, eleven nineteen p.m.’ ”
She turned the page face down on the table.
“Do those dates mean anything to you?” Pettit asked.
“No.”
“Well, the first one has to. That’s the night Adam died. We established that.”
“I meant the others,” she said.