Locust Lane(84)

She woke up first. He slept peacefully. She could see her teeth prints on his shoulder. Simple indentations, like something you’d leave in an apple you’d changed your mind about eating.

“I’ve left my mark on you,” she whispered.

He didn’t hear her.



* * *



To her mild surprise, the shower eventually did run out of hot water. He was awake when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a thick white robe he’d been gifted on some holiday or another. The kitchen smelled of coffee. He was smiling ruefully at his computer.

“Any news?” she asked, since it was Monday, a day for new things.

“Well, I’ve been fired.”

“Seriously?”

“I was supposed to check myself into rehab this morning, remember? My partner actually came by to give me a lift to the facility.”

She remembered now, someone knocking on the door before dawn. She’d let it go, sensing there was nothing good on the other side.

“Maybe you can do that when we’re done.”

“Maybe,” he said as he shut the computer’s lid. “We’re meeting with the detectives in a half hour.”

Which left her just enough time to get dressed and make herself presentable. She checked her phone—there was a text from Steve Slater, asking how she was doing, which she translated as When the hell are you coming back?

“I’ll call later,” she wrote, even though she had no idea when later would be.

At the station, Procopio was unhappily surprised to see her. He led them to an interview room and asked them to wait. He returned with Gates, who was also surprised to see Danielle, though she did a better job hiding it.

“What’s going on?” she asked once everyone was seated.

“It was Jack Parrish I saw outside the Bondurant house,” Patrick said.

There was a long silence that Procopio broke.

“And this just dawned on you?”

“I saw his name and then I saw his picture and it jogged my memory.”

There was a knock on the door. It was the woman from the district attorney’s office. Penny.

“Could you please repeat that for my colleague?” Gates asked.

As Patrick spoke, Danielle could see that they didn’t believe him.

“Okay,” Penny said. “So this memory came back to you when you saw the photos of Jack on Twitter.”

“Well, yes,” Patrick said after a moment.

“You see the problem here, right?”

“Not really.”

“I’m looking at this from the point of view of you as a witness,” the prosecutor said. “You can’t identify whom you allegedly saw and then you see a photo of someone who people are speculating is guilty and suddenly you remember it’s him. That’s a tough sell.”

“Isn’t that how a lineup works?”

“We call them arrays now,” Procopio said. “And that’s pretty much the exact opposite of how they work.”

“I saw what I saw.”

The prosecutor nodded, though not in agreement.

“Have you ever seen Jack Parrish before?” Gates asked.

“When he was younger.”

“In what circumstance?”

“There was a party at his parents’ house.”

“A party? So you’re friends with the family?”

“I wouldn’t say friends. His older brother briefly dated my daughter.”

“The one who died?” Gates asked.

“There’s only one daughter,” Patrick said with a defiance that felt hollow.

“You didn’t happen to visit the Parrish residence on Saturday night?” Procopio asked.

“No. What? No.”

“You sure about that?” Procopio asked.

“Of course I’m sure.”

The detective cast him a disbelieving stare, then turned to Danielle.

“How about you?”

“No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

“Okay,” Gates said, tapping the table once. “Thank you both for coming in. We’ll take all of this under advisement.”

“What does that mean?” Patrick asked.

“Just what I said,” she answered, as pleasant as she could be.

Procopio opened the door. Patrick looked frustrated, but there was nothing more he could do. The conversation was over. He stood. Danielle stood as well.

“Ms. Perry, could I have a quick word with you?” Gates asked.

She sat back down. Patrick looked at her, not wanting to leave her alone here.

“Come on, Patrick,” Procopio said, as he might to a child or somebody he’d just busted.

Patrick had no choice but to follow him. The prosecutor stayed behind.

“How you holding up, Danielle?” Gates asked.

“Still standing.”

“So what’s going on?” she asked, referring to the man who just left.

“Yeah, I know how it looks. But I think he’s right.”

Gates considered this for a moment.

“All right, I’ll cut to the chase here. This is turning into sort of a crazy case but it doesn’t need to be. You read the news this morning?”