First Girl Gone(74)

“Because there’s no evidence. None. Even you have to see that.”

“No evidence? I found a girl’s body today with her feet chopped off. If that’s not evidence, then what is?”

Will sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“Leroy is my cousin, Charlie. I felt a duty to make sure he gets a fair shake.”

She frowned.

“You never told me that.”

“I didn’t think it was important. If I’d known this was coming, of course I would have mentioned it. I imagine you’re feeling blindsided by all of this.”

“You think?” she said, not able to hide the venom in her voice.

“Look, we’re not close. But he is family. You have to understand my dilemma.”

Charlie felt her hackles rise at that. She leaned closer, her voice practically a hiss.

“You don’t get to talk to me about family. Allie was my sister. My best friend.” She reached out and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You’re representing the man who took her from me.”

She turned, heading back for the observation room.

“Don’t be like this. I’m a lawyer. This is what I do.”

She pushed through the door, not turning back. The closing door mostly swallowed Will’s voice, which had gone soft.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I really am.”

Charlie clenched her molars so tightly that her jaw was starting to ache, but she didn’t even notice until Zoe tapped her arm.

“Are you OK?”

Forcing her jaw to relax, Charlie gave a curt nod.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sure Will felt like he had to do it,” Zoe said. “Represent Leroy, I mean. For the family.”

Zoe was using her mother hen voice again, her tone sounding like someone trying to soothe a child after a nightmare.

When Charlie didn’t answer, Zoe went on.

“He changed a lot after his mom died, you know?”

Charlie remembered dully that Will’s mom had died when he was quite young—twelve or thirteen, before Charlie had known him well. Representing Gibbs made sense on that level, she supposed, though it wasn’t any easier to stomach.

“Anyway, I can imagine him feeling some sense of obligation because of all that,” Zoe was saying, but Charlie was only half paying attention now because Will had re-entered the interrogation room.

“I’ve advised my client not to answer any questions,” he said as he sat down. Several people scoffed or clicked their tongues in the observation room before Will went on. “But he’s made it clear to me that he wants to cooperate and is doing so of his own volition, despite my protests.”

Charlie couldn’t help but notice the homogeneous body language being presented on the police side of the glass, the uniformed officers mostly tucking their thumbs in their belts while the suits—detectives and various administrators—had to sweep back the sides of their jackets to rest their hands on their hips instead.

In any case, all eyes latched onto the mirrored glass pane like it was a flat-screen at a Super Bowl party.

The detective seated across from Will and Gibbs fingered a manila folder open and slid out a photograph. It was one of Allie’s senior pictures, the one where she was sprawled on her stomach in the grass, clutching a handful of dandelion seed heads.

Charlie felt her insides twist into a knot.

“Do you remember being questioned about the disappearance of Allison Winters, Mr. Gibbs?”

Will sighed.

“I hope you didn’t drag us down here just to bring up ancient history, Detective Siebold.”

“Are you gonna let him answer?”

Rolling his eyes, Will waved his hand.

“Go ahead, Mr. Gibbs.”

“I remember. But I didn’t…” Gibbs broke off and lowered his head.

“Didn’t what?”

“I didn’t hurt her,” he muttered.

“But you knew her, didn’t you?”

After a long pause, Gibbs nodded. The knot in Charlie’s middle squeezed a little tighter.

“In fact, the weekend before Allison Winters disappeared, she and some friends chartered a boat that you captained, isn’t that right?”

His fingers twitched and fidgeted, squeezing into fists and then releasing.

“Yes, sir.”

“And what did you think about Allison when you saw her?”

“I didn’t think nothin’.”

“No? You didn’t think anything of this beautiful eighteen-year-old girl in a bikini?” Detective Siebold held up the photo again, almost daring Gibbs to look at it.

“There was a bunch of ’em. They all were.”

Detective Siebold frowned, confused.

“All were what?”

“All the girls were in the bathing suits. Wasn’t just her. They all wore ’em.”

Charlie got the sense that Gibbs didn’t fully grasp what was happening here, as though he was distant not just from social normality but from actual reality.

“I told you, guys,” one of the men in the observation room grumbled. “He’s just laying the groundwork for an insanity plea. Wait and see.”

The detective in the next room laced his fingers together on the table and looked Gibbs in the eye.