What Lies in the Woods(35)

My mouth was dry. I reached for the cup of water someone had given me along with the coffee, but it was empty. I put my hand around it anyway, tightening my fingers until the plastic bowed. “I didn’t hurt Liv,” I said hoarsely.

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“She died last night? There?” It was the only thing that made sense. My breath was thin and sharp and wouldn’t fill my lungs all the way. The pond wasn’t far from the Grotto. Wasn’t far from where I’d been thrashing around drunkenly, chasing after shadows. “I saw someone. In the woods. I thought they were following me.”

“You saw someone. A man or a woman?”

“I don’t know. A man, I think. It was dark.”

“Really.” Her skepticism made the word a bludgeon. Anger flared in my chest. The heat of it licked out along my ribs, piercing the cold, muddled haze of grief and shock that had wrapped itself around me. “You’re sure you saw someone?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” I bit out. But I hadn’t been, had I? I’d told myself it was all my imagination.

“Large, small, thin, fat? Could you tell their race, their age?”

“No. They were just a shadow. I saw them moving.” It sounded ridiculous. I’d been drunk off my ass, and she knew it.

“And what time was this?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“I see.” Her tone was unsurprised. I set my jaw. “Your best guess.”

I tried to track the time line back in my mind, but I didn’t remember looking at the clock after dinner with Cody. “After sunset. I had dinner and then I crashed in my motel room for a while and watched TV. I’m not sure for how long.”

“What did you watch?” Almost bored. Like it didn’t matter.

“Forensic Files,” I said. “I watched an episode and channel-surfed for a while. I’m not sure how long. Maybe an hour. I went over to the Corner Store and then drove out. Sat in my car for a while. It couldn’t have been much later than ten. So she wasn’t out there yet.” I sagged, the faintest tremor of relief going through me. If she’d been out there, and I hadn’t heard her, hadn’t helped her …

“What makes you say that?”

“Kimiko heard her coming home early in the morning. Or really late? I’m not sure.”

“The gate code to the Barnes residence was entered at 4:47 a.m.,” Bishop said. She’d already known. So she was just checking my story. “Did anyone else see you?”

“While I was passed out in my car, you mean? I have no idea,” I said, irritated. She was wasting her time.

“Why were you at the pond this morning?”

I was getting a headache. Or maybe I’d had one all along. “I was looking for Liv. I was worried. She’d left me a voicemail that sounded strange. I thought she might try to hurt herself.”

“What time did she call you?”

“Ten.”

“Around the time you were in the woods.”

“Signal is patchy out there. It must have gone straight to voicemail.” Or I hadn’t noticed it. I’d been too wrapped up in myself, in my memories.

“How were things between you and Olivia?”

“Good,” I said tightly.

“You didn’t argue with her yesterday?”

“Argue with her? Who told you that?” I asked. It was the wrong response. Bishop’s eyes hardened.

“What were you arguing about?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Except that we had argued—about Persephone.

Liv had found Persephone, and Cass and I had tried to talk her out of saying anything. I’d been out in the woods that night. Bishop was already looking at me like I was a suspect. Telling her we’d hidden a body for twenty years would hardly make me less suspicious.

“Naomi?” Bishop said. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

I started to open my mouth—and the door opened. Officer Dougherty stepped in and widened his eyes in an expression of exaggerated surprise. “Naomi, honey. You’re still here? You ought to be getting some rest, poor thing.”

Since the last time I’d seen him, Dougherty had put on some weight around his middle and lost it from his cheeks, which were cadaverously hollow. He sported a gray mustache of the kind that only existed in hipster bars and towns like this.

My memories of the man were hazy. He’d just been a junior member of the department when I was a kid, but he’d risen through the ranks rapidly—not that it was hard when the number of officers in the department was in the single digits. Miller had been grooming him as the next chief for ages, and I still couldn’t quite believe the city had brought in an outsider instead. Judging by the looks that passed between Dougherty and Bishop, he couldn’t believe it either.

“We’re just going over a few details, Officer Dougherty,” Bishop said levelly. If Dougherty detected the warning in her voice, he gave no sign.

“You got her statement already, Monica,” he said. A tendon in Bishop’s jaw twitched. No Chief or Boss from Dougherty. “And her ride’s waiting on her. I think we ought to let the poor girl take off, don’t you?”

My ride—he must mean Ethan. Ethan, who’d talked to the police while I shivered in the passenger seat of my car, and insisted they let me have some time and some dry clothes before they asked me any questions. When he’d asked for my keys I’d handed them over without question, and I realized with a start that he still had them.