Locust Lane(34)

Finally, after three days, the fever broke. She was once again Celia Parrish and Jack was her baby. All the normal things happened. He settled on her breast, he put on weight. He stood and smiled and walked and talked. He became a beautiful boy and a fine and brilliant young man with a wonderful girlfriend. But every once in a while, when she witnessed him react with an anger out of proportion to events or saw his brow crease in frustration, when she caught him watching that horrible film on his computer or saw the look on his face after Lexi Liriano fled their house, she’d think back to that wailing creature she’d held, so oblivious to all the usual solace. And she’d wonder if she really ever knew him at all.

The story he’d told in the kitchen upon arriving home from school with Oliver was deeply alarming, at least at first. They’d been at the Bondurants’ last night. They’d been at the house where the murder took place. Jack and Hannah and Christopher and Eden, whom Hannah had met a few months earlier. It was something they did when Bill and Betsy were away. They’d lied about it because the Bondurants didn’t want kids partying there. At first, they just hung out. But there had been tension between Christopher and Eden. Evidently Christopher wanted them to be a couple but she had other ideas. It got a little heated, but by the time Jack and Hannah left around midnight, things had calmed down. Or so they thought. And then there was a lockdown the next day and they found out she was dead. Jack called his father, who’d been on his way home from Connecticut.

Oliver took over the story at this point. He’d instructed Jack to stay put at school and talk to no one. When he finally arrived in Emerson that afternoon, he picked him up, along with Hannah. Once he’d determined that the kids had done nothing wrong, he took Hannah home to tell her parents. And now here they were, father and son, ready to speak with the authorities.

“You could have called,” Celia said. “I was worried sick.”

“I know. That was wrong of me. I wanted to get all the facts before I spoke to you but … that was wrong.”

“So what happens now? Have you called the police?”

“Actually, they called me a little while ago. I’m going to touch base with Elaine Otto and then we’ll give a statement.”

Elaine headed his firm’s criminal defense division. Celia was tempted to ask if calling her was absolutely necessary, but Oliver wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t necessary.

“They’re saying there’s a person of interest,” she said instead.

“It’s Christopher,” Jack said. “Gotta be.”

“Christopher? They’re saying he killed that girl? That’s inconceivable.”

Jack said nothing, though his expression suggested it wasn’t so inconceivable to him. Oliver’s phone rang; it was Elaine. He went into his study to take the call.

“How are you holding up?” Celia asked her son.

“Kind of in shock. But okay.”

Celia studied him. Something wasn’t right. True, his story explained the lie he’d told about his whereabouts. They were partying in a place they shouldn’t. What it didn’t explain was why he’d been so upset this morning. The timing made no sense, given that he’d just said he only learned about Eden’s death this afternoon.

“Jack, what was wrong with you this morning?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you got home. You were upset.”

“I was just tired.”

“But it seemed…”

“Mom, I was just tired, all right?”

Oliver emerged. He was less gloomy than when he’d first arrived home. He was in his element now, solving problems.

“All right,” he said decisively. “Let’s go.”

As they pulled into the police station’s parking lot, Celia came crashing back to earth from her little cloud of serenity. It was time to be herself again. The scene outside the building was hectic. There were vans with antennae and logos, bright lights and agitated people. The press was in attendance. Before leaving the car, Oliver announced that only he and Jack would be going into the interview. They needed to keep this simple. Celia didn’t like being left out, but she knew better than to argue. Her husband was in charge. For the time being, he was Jack’s lawyer as well as his father.

They walked quickly through the crowd, Oliver in the lead, his large body clearing the way, Celia and Jack swept along in his wake. She gripped her son’s arm and kept her chin up. Once inside, they were instructed to wait. Oliver paced; Celia sat beside Jack, trying to radiate the reassurance she wished she could feel. Chief Zorn finally appeared, accompanied by a Black woman Celia presumed to be a detective. Oliver went to shake their hands. They spoke somberly for a moment, then Oliver beckoned for his son to join them. Zorn did not meet Celia’s eye, even though he’d been to her house on numerous social occasions. The detective did, however, giving her a polite nod. And then they were gone.

Celia sat perfectly still, concentrating on giving nothing away should any of those reporters be watching her through the glass. It was something she’d learned to do when she was a girl. Turning herself into a statue of obedient goodness who wouldn’t attract her father’s attention. Just don’t move, her mother had said, and nothing bad will happen. Yet another lie.

The outside doors whooshed open and there were shouts and then there was Alice, her arm around a terrified Hannah’s waist. They were accompanied by a uniformed policeman. There was no sign of Geoff. The policeman went to talk to the duty officer behind the bulletproof glass; Hannah collapsed into a plastic chair next to a pay phone on the other side of the lobby. Alice spotted Celia and rushed over.