Girls Like Us(63)

“Oh my God. She did. She spoke to a journalist earlier today.”

“Who?”

“Ann-Marie Marshall. You have to find her. Make sure she’s okay.”

“Nell, where are you? I’m worried. Let me come get you.”

“I just turned onto Dune Road. I’ll be home in a few minutes.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“I’m fine, Lee.”

“No. You’re not fine. We have to get you out of Suffolk County. Tonight. Everyone who touches this investigation ends up dead.”





22.



At home, I lock every door and window. I check my Smith & Wesson. I place a second loaded handgun in my nightstand, just in case. When I hear the rumble of car wheels on the drive, I peer out through a slit between the curtains. My pulse slows a little when I see that it’s Lee. His face is drawn. Deep circles are printed beneath his eyes. He’s wearing an SCPD sweatshirt with a coffee stain down the front. He holds two large foam cups in his hands. I’m not sure he’s slept or showered since I saw him last.

“You look like shit,” I tell him when I open the door.

“You don’t look so great yourself.”

“It’s been a long few days. Thanks so much for pulling me into this mess.”

“Sorry. Misery loves company.” He hands me a coffee. “I figured you could use one, too.”

“I was going to offer you a scotch, but this is probably a better idea.”

“Let’s keep our wits about us for the time being, shall we?”

“Come in. Let’s sit outside.” I lead Lee to the deck. I have no reason to think the house is bugged, but that’s how my suspicious mind works. Anyway, the rain has cleared. The chairs are still damp, but that’s fine. The fresh, cold air fills my lungs. Overhead, chevrons of geese move across the fading blue-gray sky. I switch on the porch lights. I scan the sawgrass for egrets but see none. It occurs to me that we’re about to slip into October; height of hurricane season. The beginning of the migration.

“So first things first. I traced the plate number,” Lee says. “You want to tell me what Vince DaSilva’s doing tailing you around town?”

“Maybe you should ask him.”

“That’s probably not the best idea. I’m kind of persona non grata around the office right now.”

“You? The hometown hero?”

“Dorsey’s got strong opinions about this case. If you hadn’t noticed.”

“And you disagree with his opinions?”

Lee swills his coffee before answering. “Your dad didn’t believe that Morales was the guy. Personally, I think Morales was involved. But he’s just the muscle. Someone paid him to dispose of those bodies.”

“But he confessed. So case closed. At least, that’s what Dorsey said to me earlier today.”

Lee sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“So case not closed?”

“No. Not for me. Look, if I tell you something, can you promise it will stay between us?”

We lock eyes. “I’ve got no one to tell.”

“I don’t know what happened in that interrogation room. It was just Dorsey and Morales. Video feed was switched off.”

“Intentionally?”

“Yes. Dorsey switched it off himself. He looked me in the eye when he did it. Like he was daring me to say something.”

“Did you?”

“Of course not. He’s the fucking chief of D’s. What am I supposed to say: ‘Hey, Chief, that’s not proper protocol’?”

“Did Morales have counsel?”

“No. Either he never asked, or if he did, Dorsey ignored him. All I know is, they were in there for less than an hour. And when they walked out, Dorsey had a signed confession from Morales stating that he killed both girls.”

“Jesus. You think he roughed him up?”

“Worse. I think he paid him off.”

I sit up, alert. “You think Morales is taking the fall on purpose?”

“Less than an hour, Nell. It takes me more than that to just write up a fucking confession. This was typed up, signed, sealed, and delivered. I think the whole thing was prearranged.”

“Why the whole showdown at the farm, then? Morales was armed. Someone could’ve gotten hurt.”

“Theatrics. Some woman happened to be there to videotape it? Come on, Nell. Think about it.” He crosses his arms, shoots me a look.

I slump back in my chair. “Oh my God. I almost shot him, you know. I could have killed Morales.”

“If you had, even better. Problem solved.”

“But why? Why would Morales agree to take the rap for two murders? He’ll either get deported or he’ll spend the rest of his life rotting in jail.”

“I don’t know. Either someone paid him a ton of money, or else he made sure his family gets citizenship. Those are the only two things I could think of.”

“Come on. Dorsey’s powerful, but not that powerful. And he’s not rich, either.”

“He’s not. But the people he’s covering for are.” Lee gives me a look. “I know you know about Giovanni Calabrese and his arrangement with certain members of the department. Calabrese has got sway. And his clients are incredibly rich, very powerful, and definitely motivated to make sure the whole operation doesn’t get exposed.”