Off the Deep End (3)

“Why don’t you take me back to the beginning?”





ONE


AMBER GREER


“How’d it go?” I whipped open the front door and grabbed Detective Hawkins by the shirt before he had a chance to knock, then pulled him inside. “What did Jules say?”

My husband, Mark, didn’t even look up from his spot on the couch in the family room. He sat with his hands folded on his lap and stared at the TV on the wall in front of him without actually watching what was playing on the screen. That was what he did whenever things got too intense with the investigation. He just shut down like there was a switch inside him that someone had turned off. He’d been that way since Isaac had gone missing six days ago.

Six grueling days since our world got flipped upside down again. It hadn’t even righted itself since the last time. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t fair. How many bad things could happen to a person? Wasn’t there some kind of limit on the number of traumatic events you could experience in a lifetime? The universe needed to back off and leave us alone.

Detective Hawkins stepped through the entryway and headed into the family room so Mark could be a part of the conversation too. Although it hardly mattered because Mark didn’t have much of anything to say to anyone at the moment. He just sat there like a big dummy doing nothing in a way that infuriated me. Like whatever was happening, we were just supposed to sit back and take it.

I’d totally gone nuts on him last night. I hadn’t lost it on him like that since I was pregnant and hormone crazed, but his detachment and emotional disconnection during all this was infuriating. He’d shut down hour by hour as the clock ticked further and further away from the last time Isaac had left the house. He wasn’t even bothering to go through the motions anymore except when he was upset. He was over the top then. I couldn’t take it. I wasn’t cut out for any of this.

“Hi, Mark,” Detective Hawkins said, sticking his hand out to greet him. When the sheriff told me they were bringing in some hotshot from the twin cities to lead the case, I’d expected someone big and commanding to assume the role, so Detective Hawkins had taken me by surprise, and I was still trying to adjust. Although he was commanding, he certainly wasn’t big. He wasn’t much taller than me, which wasn’t saying a lot since I was barely five four. Everything about him was average—his height, his build, his face—except for his eyes. Those were one of a kind. He had piercing blue hawk eyes. They took one look at you and penetrated your soul. No wonder he was a detective.

Mark raised his arm and slowly shook Detective Hawkins’s hand like it weighed ten pounds. All his movements were slow and sluggish. He laid his hands back in his lap after he’d finished like the simple social interaction had sucked the remaining life energy out of him. I stifled my annoyance and focused my questions on Detective Hawkins.

“Where did she say she was the night Isaac went missing? Were you able to speak with any of the staff at the house? Can they verify that? Do you think they’ll be cooperative?” I asked, my words tumbling out of me so fast they fell on top of each other. I just had so many questions, and I’d been holding them inside all day. Talking to Mark about them was useless. Our discussions only ended in fights.

Detective Hawkins shook his head and held up his hands, motioning for me to slow down. “That’s not how these kinds of interviews work. They take time. Sometimes a lot of time.”

“I don’t understand why. All the psychologist has to do is ask her where she was the night Isaac went missing. Then check to see if she’s lying. That’s more than probable cause to get you into her room.” It wasn’t that complicated. I’d been a die-hard Dateline fan for twenty years, and they always stressed how important the first seventy-two hours were after a person disappeared. It’d been way longer than that since Isaac had gone missing, and they were wasting valuable time. Jules had him. I knew she did.

He shook his head again. “Being interviewed by a forensic psychologist is not like being interrogated by the police or a detective. It’s a completely different process when you’re dealing with someone so mentally unstable. You have to be so careful.”

“Okay, well, then, can’t you at least interview her in the meantime?” They should’ve been interviewing her since day one, and we’d be a lot further along than this, but they hadn’t listened to any of my input about the investigation even though it was my son we were looking for. I swore that half the time, they treated me like I’d done something wrong.

Detective Hawkins gently placed his hand on my arm and pointed to the spot on the couch next to Mark. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

I brushed his hand off. “I’m good, thanks.” Sitting next to Mark was the last thing I wanted to do. I didn’t want any of his negative energy to rub off on me. We had to stay positive through this. “So, what did she say?”

“Nothing yet, but they’re just getting started. He’s only been with her for a few hours. I imagine they’ll take a break soon and then get back to it. Like I said, these things take time, and I know that it’s hard, but you’re just going to have to be patient,” he said in a gentle voice.

“Patient?” I screeched. “I’m supposed to be patient when some lunatic has my son?” I glared at him, and he stared back at me, unmoved by my emotions. His steely eyes didn’t flinch. His gaze was unwavering on mine like he was doing some strange Jedi mind trick to get me to calm down, and somehow, it worked despite my intentions.