The Lies I Told(18)

“The earth generally guards secrets closely.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Maybe you were playing with fire, and revisiting that time got to be too much for you. You swallowed a pill in a moment of weakness. It happens.”

“You sound like Brit. My sister has been walking on eggshells around me since. It’s like she’s afraid to say Clare’s name for fear I’ll lose my shit. I’m amazed she hasn’t done surprise urine tests.”

The corner of his lips tilted in an almost smile. “Are you going to meetings?”

“Last one was three days ago. I’ll hit another one in the next few days.”

“Good. Keep working the program.”

“Yeah. I hear you.” I leaned forward, grateful to have one person I could speak candidly to about Clare’s death. “It’s so wrong, you know? That someone could do what they did and just get away with it. So wrong.”

Richards unknitted his fingers and rested them on the chair’s armrest. “I know.”

He was kind enough not to remind me that the world was full of injustice. Shitty things happened to good people all the time. Clare’s death wasn’t the only case that was unsolved. He’d once said he had twenty open cases. “Can I meet the new detective on the case? I promise not to hound him or her like you.”

His right index finger tapped on the arm of the chair. “You didn’t hound me. You care. I can never fault you for that. I’ll leave a note in the file for the next detective to contact you.”

Brick wall after brick wall. “What about the DNA? Did anyone try to retest her clothes? Technology has changed in thirteen years.”

“You know we collected some of Kurt’s DNA inside Clare’s vagina.”

I refused to cringe. “They were dating. That made sense. You’d said once there were three other women found strangled in North Carolina about that time. Were they ever linked to Clare?”

“Manner of death was similar, but none of the samples matched Kurt’s DNA. If the cases are connected, I can’t prove it.”

“You suspected Kurt in those cases, too?”

“I suspect everyone until proven otherwise.”

“Including me.”

“Yes,” he said. “Your alibi was always shaky.”

“I told you I was driving that night.”

“With a gas receipt to prove it.”

I cleared my throat. “I knew my sister so well. I should be able to figure this out.”

“None of us know everything about our friends, lovers, siblings. And even if we did, there are always secrets. Lies.”

That wasn’t true in Clare’s and my case. We shared everything. We didn’t lie to each other. “Those case notes are your personal property, aren’t they? How hard could it be to copy them?”

He stared at me, the frown lines around his mouth deepening. He didn’t speak, and I could only guess he was tired of telling me no or I don’t know.

“Or maybe you could just get the report on my car accident. I’ve not had the nerve to request it, but I’d like to know. I’d like to remember what happened, what went wrong.”

“I can get you something on the car accident,” he said. “What’re you looking for?”

It was my turn to say, “I don’t know. I hoped there’re pictures and the truth will jump out at me.”

“I’ll look into it. No promises.”

I rose. “Thanks.”

He stood. “Take care of yourself, Marisa. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I wish I could have given you answers. Clare deserved answers.”

In the confined space, I realized how tall he was and how broad his shoulders were. The body of a brawler. “Good luck with the wedding. Call me if you need a photographer. It’ll be my gift to you and the bride.” I handed him one of my cards.

That half smile appeared again as he flicked the edge. “Will do.”

I left the station, grateful to step out in the cold air and feel the sun on my face. I fished my phone from my coat pocket and called for an Uber.

Richards meant well, but in his world, my sister’s life and death would always be reduced to a file tucked in a cabinet. Like the headlines splashing the papers thirteen years ago, they’d lose meaning, context, and finally vanish off everyone’s radar.

When the car pulled up, I settled in the back seat, watching the city pass as the driver crossed the Mayo Bridge and drove south into the Manchester district. He drove an additional three miles beyond before he pulled into a car dealership.

Out of the vehicle, I walked toward the showroom. No one cared more about this case than I did, and if I wanted to talk to the people who’d been at the New Year’s Eve party, I’d need a car to do it. Whatever phobias I might have nursed the last two months had to go.

Last year, when I first learned about the trust fund set up by my mother, I didn’t want it, especially when the lawyers told me I had inherited half of Clare’s portion in my account. It felt a bit like blood money. But I’d also learned the trust had seen me through three stints in rehab and helped me finally get on my feet. There wasn’t a huge fortune left now, but it was still a nice chunk of change, and I’d learned to be grateful for it.