All Is Not Forgotten(50)
My next call was to Detective Parsons. It was not prudent. I was not in the best state of mind. But I had access to the detective, to information, with an ongoing cover story, and I could not stop myself. Knowing about the inner workings of the mind, even one’s own, does not imbue the power to control it.
This call is what sent me over the edge.
Hey, Alan. Good to hear from you. Anything else on your end? Does she remember the blue hoodie?
“I haven’t seen her since the last session. That was Wednesday. She’s coming in this afternoon. I imagine Tom has told you about the last session?”
She had some kind of a flashback. She smelled bleach.
“It wasn’t a flashback. It was a memory. An actual memory of the actual event.”
Okay. Whatever you want to call it. It’s helpful. Too bad she didn’t see a face. She didn’t, right? So I was thinking we should be looking at the swim team again. A lot of swimmers were at the party that night. I got one of my men reading through the interviews from last year. I’m still waiting on a roster from the school—
“Good, very good. But we need to be very careful here. I would really like to do some more work with her before jumping to conclusions. Memories tend to be clustered together, each piece from one event. Like the chapters of a book. It is possible the bleach smell was from chapter four—in the bathroom, perhaps—and the rape in chapter ten. If I can just get the other chapters, we might be able to put them in the right order and—”
Do whatever you need to do, Alan. There’s no harm in circling back with the swim team and anyone who interacted with them that night. Go at this from two sides, right? I don’t like it. Believe me. I’m not winning any popularity contests in Fairview by looking at our own kids. But I have to do my job.
“Yes. Of course.” My heart was in my throat. I almost started to tell him about Jason—not the sweatshirt, but that Jason was on the swim team and had been to the party. I did not know Parsons last year. When Jason was interviewed, I had been with him but it was a young female officer who spoke to us. It had been in our home. It had been very informal. She didn’t take more than one line of notes, because Jason had not seen anything helpful. I fully expected Parsons to be surprised by this disclosure. The longer I withheld it, the more surprising it would be. And at some point, surprise becomes suspicion.
But then Parsons spoke. Listen. Tom said he’s coming to see you today. Maybe you can be the one to break the news to him. It’s about Demarco.
“What is it?”
He made bail. But that’s not it. We pressed hard on that kid. John Vincent—you know, the kid who bought the drugs from him outside the school. Threatened to put some charges together. His lawyer brought us a statement. Clears Demarco of the rape. Puts him somewhere else with John Vincent.
“Somewhere else? How is that possible? He told you he saw the man with the blue hoodie go into the woods around nine. And the neighbor’s kid saw his car, his empty car around eight forty-five. And what about that boy? Did you ask him about the man with the hoodie? Demarco is making all this up. Don’t you see?” I have to admit that at this point, I had foolishly thought I saw a way out. I was quickly corrected.
Yeah, yeah … course we did. He didn’t see any kid walking into the woods. But listen. Demarco was at the back door of the house around eight thirty, talking to some kids. I’ve got two who admit they were offered weed. I’m sure the little pricks bought the weed, but whatever. We have independent corroborating stories putting Demarco at the house at eight thirty. John Vincent claims he met Demarco back at his car at nine fifteen and drove with him to Cranston to buy coke. I think Vincent might be dealing for Demarco. We should have picked him up that day outside the school. Bet he had more in that bag than a couple of joints.
“Wait. So what are you saying?”
I’m saying Demarco must have made it back to his car around nine—after Teddy Duncan passed by and right when he saw the kid with the blue hoodie go into the woods. Then, a few minutes later, as they had planned, John Vincent comes down from the house and gets in the car. They go to buy the coke in Cranston. They’re gone for an hour.
“That … that’s just a story. Sounds very convenient to me. They fit everything into the facts they were given. Think about it! You can’t believe anything either of them is saying.”
Nah—listen. The Vincent kid said they stopped for gas and cigarettes. He used his debit card. We have the bank record—the ten bucks charged at 9:37 the night of the rape. And we got the security tape. Shows the Civic, Demarco, and Vincent at the gas station. They were six miles from those woods. Demarco didn’t want to tell us about driving some teenager to buy coke. That’s another felony charge. Child endangerment. We got him on it now, though. The DA might give Vincent a walk for testifying. Demarco’s gonna do some time.
“Just not for the rape.”
No—not for the rape. But we’ve got the hoodie, right? And now we’ve got the bleach and the memories that are coming back. I’m disappointed, too. Believe me. I thought finding that Civic was the end of this.
“Yes. Tom did as well.”
Looks like it’s just the beginning all over again. Gonna take a hard look at the swim team. Jesus Christ. I never thought one of our kids could have done this. The brutality. The carving. Shit. I want to find this guy, I do. I just don’t want to find him here. And it’s not looking like she’ll remember a face, right? It’s all gonna be circumstantial.