“This wasn’t how I expected us to celebrate your thirteenth birthday,” she said softly.
“No.”
Sara sighed. “You’re mad.”
Eve didn’t respond, but her jaw clenched in acknowledgement.
“Well, I’m mad, too. I’m mad at you for getting yourself into this situation, even though …” She choked up and swallowed hard. They sat in silence for several minutes, only a foot apart physically but so much farther by measurements of the heart.
“I’ve done some reading this week,” Sara said.
Eve stole a glance at her friend, feeling her chest tighten with nostalgia. Of course Sara had done some reading this week; what else would she do?
“I wanted to tell you that it’s not your fault,” Sara said. “This book I read, it talks about predators and how they groom their victims by making them feel like they’re the only ones who understand them, and that … that you’re too young to be able to make a legal decision like this …”
“Legal decision.”
“I’m trying to say that Leigh,” she stopped and swallowed hard again, “that Leigh … that you’re the victim. And he’s twisted things so much, you don’t even know it.”
She shook her head, unable to find the words to explain how Sara had gotten it all wrong. But every argument kept floating away into the fog of her brain. She probably shouldn’t have smoked that joint.
“So, I wanted to tell you that I’m going to go to the police station this afternoon. To tell them what I saw.”
Groaning, Eve slumped forward until her head hit her knees.
“You’re not going to get in trouble. I promise! This book says you’ve done nothing wrong. But Leigh …” Every time Sara said her brother’s name, there was a crack of heartbreak in her voice. “Leigh needs help.”
“He won’t get help, he’ll get jail.”
“If you know that, then you must know he’s doing something wrong,” Sara said.
“I know they’ll think it’s wrong.”
It hit her then, how badly she’d failed him. She’d promised to protect him no matter what, and now look at the mess they were in. He would feel so hurt, so betrayed. It would ruin everything. And Donna would find out. And Button! She imagined the look of sadness and disappointment on her grandmother’s face, and it was all suddenly too much. She let out a huge, wracking, full-body sob.
“Oh, Eve.” Sara laid a hand on her back.
She sprang to her feet as though Sara’s touch had electrified her, and backed away.
“Where are you going?”
“To take a long walk off a short pier.” A joke of their childhood, but she wasn’t joking. In fact, it seemed like the best idea she’d had in a long time. She pushed through the tangle of weeds and marsh grass, and once she hit the trail she began to run.
“Wait!” Sara screamed after her. “Eve, what are you doing?” She could hear Sara running behind her, but Eve was faster. She always had been.
The pier wasn’t far, but she gasped for breath by the time she reached it, her lungs burning from grief and dope. Her feet thundered across the wooden planks, the pier rocking beneath her. Blinded by tears, Eve plowed through a flock of crows — or was it a murder of crows? Sara would have known — and they took off before her in a feathered exodus of squawking displeasure.
She leaned over the railing at the edge of the pier, wiping at her eyes and trying to judge the drop. The wood smelled of sunbaked resin, a ghost of summer. A log boom floated just beyond where she stood and the water lapped peacefully against the logs.
Eve took one deep breath and then hoisted herself up, leaning on the railing. She lifted her right leg over, straddled the railing for a breathless moment, and then pulled her left leg over to join it. She slid down until her feet hit the ledge that ran along the outside of the pier. It was maybe a foot wide. She wrapped her arms around the vertical slat in front of her and held on for dear life. She was starting to think this was a bad idea.
“Eve!” Sara’s footsteps thundered along the wooden pier. “Oh my God, what are you doing?”
She was blind with tears, but she was too scared to let go and wipe her eyes. She rubbed her face against her shoulder instead.
“Climb back over! You’re going to get yourself killed!”
She looked up at Sara, her only friend. “That’s the whole point.”
“No!” Above her, Sara’s eyes were round blue marbles of horror. “Don’t you dare!”
“He’s never going to forgive me for this!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Sara sobbed now, too. Her tears fell on Eve’s upturned face, landed on her cheeks and lips, salt mixing with salt.
“How can he go on once this comes out? It’s going to ruin him!”
“Him?” Sara cried. “What about you?”
“I’m nothing! Everybody knows that. Even my own mom knows that!”
“Oh, Eve, that’s not true! Please, climb back over.” Sara reached down.
“If I’m gone, then Leigh can’t be charged with anything. He can’t go to jail.”
“No!”
“I’m sorry I hurt you. I never wanted you to get hurt.”
“No, Eve,” Sara sobbed. “Please don’t do this.”
She looked down at the river. It seemed like a much bigger drop than it had before she climbed over the railing. She could see the rush of the current, and wondered how long it would take to get to the ocean. Would she still be alive when fresh water mixed with salt?
A shadow moved above her, and she craned her neck to look. Sara swung awkwardly over the railing.
“Are you crazy? What are you doing?”
“Coming to get you!”
“No! Get back up there.”
“Only if you do.” Sara swung her second leg over.
“Damn it, Sara.” Eve shifted left, moving slowly along the narrow ledge toward the corner pylon. Sara’s feet found the ledge, and she wheezed in terror. Heights were not Sara’s thing.
The corner pylon had a metal ladder along its outer edge. Without thought, she climbed onto it and started to descend. She expected Sara to lose her nerve and climb back over the railing, but to her surprise Sara kept going, moving slowly along the ledge and easing onto the ladder ten rungs above her.
“Stop following me!”
“Stop running away!”
“You’re going to get hurt.”
“Then climb back up if you’re so worried about me.”
It was like some weird game of chicken. But Eve wasn’t going to be the one to back down. She descended to the bottom rung, eight or ten feet above the river. She now had two choices: She could climb back up the ladder and follow Sara back to safety and a miserable existence, or she could jump onto the logs below.
She jumped.
Her left foot hit first, sliding between two logs and twisting painfully. She fell backward and landed hard on rough, wet wood. Splinters pierced the skin of her legs and backside like a million jagged needles. She screamed, and above her Sara reacted by screaming, as well. But she kept climbing down the ladder. She reached the bottom rung and hesitated, peering under her arm at the drop.
“Don’t do it!”
Now that Eve was on the boom, she could feel how it rocked and swayed back and forth in the current. It was pure luck that she’d jumped at the right moment. If Sara picked wrong, she’d land in the water instead of on the logs.
Apparently Sara had no intention of listening to Eve. She closed her eyes and let go of the ladder’s rung. She neither landed in the water nor on the logs, but managed to do something in between. Her shoulder hit the edge of the log boom and Eve heard the crack of a bone breaking even above Sara’s blood-curdling scream. Sara catapulted sideways and sank beneath the water.
“Sara!” Eve rolled onto her hands and knees.
Sara’s head popped up, hair and water streaming into her eyes. “My arm!”
“Sara, hang on!” Eve scrambled up and over spl
intery, slippery logs, moving frantically to the edge.
“My arm! My arm!”
By the time she reached the edge of the boom, Sara was twenty feet downstream.
“Sara!” On her belly, she slid over the end log and eased into the water. It was bitingly, numbingly cold. The current pushed her legs out from under her, trying to sweep her away. Clinging to the log, she looked back over her shoulder. Sara was maybe thirty feet downstream. If she was going to reach her, she needed to get moving.
Sara was still screaming, wasting all the energy she should have used to try to swim to shore. She seemed really far away.
Could Eve reach her? And if she did, would she have the strength to fight the current and pull Sara to shore? Or would they both drown?
Gasping in fear, she tried to ignore the slippery part of her mind that had recognized the opportunity being presented to her — on a silver platter, so to speak. The part that said that all she needed to do to keep Leigh safe was to stay put.
Eve pressed her face against the log, tasting the salt of Sara’s tears. She heard her screams for a long time after they stopped.
THIRTY-NINE
“YOU DIDN’T WANT HER TO TELL THE POLICE.”
Eve ran a finger over the graffiti on the table. “I know that looks like motive.”
“It’s mighty convenient.”
“I never wanted her to die. She was my dearest friend. My only friend.”
“I’m not convinced you’re as innocent as you say you are when it comes to Sara’s death.”
All she needed to do to keep Leigh safe was to stay put. She shook her head, trying to break loose of the memories.
“But I don’t yet have enough evidence to lay charges. You are being charged with second-degree murder in the death of Thomas Mahoney. We know there’d been complaints about him from other kids in the neighbourhood, so I’m inclined to believe your husband on this one. I’m thinking Mahoney exposed himself to you, as Leigh said. Then maybe you came upon him sometime later. Maybe he was asleep. Defenceless. You saw an opportunity.”
“Opportunity.”
“To crush his skull with a stick.”
“I didn’t. I swear.”
“Leigh saw you do it.”
Eve shook her head.
“And you’re being charged with first-degree murder in the death of your mother, Donna Gold. That means premeditated.”
She’d been expecting it, but nevertheless felt a cold wave of shock wash over her.
“Let’s talk about your mom,” Detective Baird said.
“My client spent years being molested by her own father. You think you’ve had such a terrible life? You should be grateful for everything I’ve given you.”
“I’d like a lawyer.”
He sighed and pushed away from the table. Reaching into his pocket, he came out with a rusting tin of maple syrup sealed in an evidence bag.
“Your husband gave us this. We’re having the contents tested for about a billion different types of poison.”
He moved to the door, then paused and turned back to Eve.
“I believe you are the victim of long-term abuse, and I have sympathy for you in that regard. No child deserves to have their innocence stolen from them.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
“I also think you’re capable of love, at least when it comes to your grandmother and your son. And maybe you even cared about Sara, in your own way.”
She shifted in her chair but kept her gaze on the table in front of her.
“But you also showed your true nature before the interview even started. Do you know one of the surest signs that someone’s a sociopath?”
She didn’t answer.
“They don’t yawn when someone else does, because they aren’t capable of feeling empathy.”
She looked up and met his gaze. She’d been right the first time. His eyes were blue.
“Detective Baird?” The officer poked his head into the interrogation room. “Oh, sorry. I thought he was in here.”
“He’s gone to charge up my electric chair.”
The officer blinked at her, showing no sign of a sense of humour. “We don’t have the death penalty here, ma’am.”
“Officer Smith, what can I do for you?” Detective Baird came up behind him carrying another Styrofoam cup of coffee.
“We were just notified that Mrs. Adler’s grandmother has been taken to St. Vincent’s.”
“What?” Eve jumped up, causing the chair to fall with a clatter behind her. “What happened? Is she all right?”
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” the officer said. “They seem to think it was a stroke.”
“Oh my God! I need to go see her.”
“You’re under arrest, Mrs. Adler. And no bail has been set.”
“Oh, no.” She turned to plead with Detective Baird. “Can’t you take me there in handcuffs? Please, I need to see her. What if she …” She choked up, unable to finish the sentence.
“I simply can’t —”
“Gabriel! Where’s my son? Is he okay?”
The officer shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t hear anything about a boy.”
“The paramedics probably brought him to the hospital in the ambulance,” Detective Baird said. “They’ll have called Child Services to take care of him.”
“He’ll be terrified. Please let me go see him.”
Detective Baird shook his head, but she could see he was wavering.
“Please. Can you imagine what he’s going through right now?”
Sighing, Detective Baird said, “All right. Let’s go.”
They went in through Emergency, the only hospital doors that were open in the middle of the night.
Detective Baird hadn’t put her in handcuffs, but he’d brought Officer Smith with them and the officer kept a hand on her arm to prevent her from running. She thought it was ridiculous. Even if she’d been physically able to outrun them, where on earth would she go? The most important people in her life were somewhere within the sterile walls of this hospital.
They passed a woman clutching a croupy child to her chest, a family holding hands with their heads bent in prayer, and a man talking to a police officer while holding an ice pack to the side of his face.
“Wait over there,” Detective Baird said as he went to the reception desk.
Officer Smith led her to a row of hard plastic chairs, giving a nod of solidarity to the officer interviewing the man with the ice pack. The officer returned the nod, and then continued his questioning.
“Mr. Gauthier. We’re running tests on the blood sample you’ve provided, so you might as well tell me now what we’re going to find.”
The man holding the ice pack sighed and looked away. “Do you think that girl’s all right?”
The officer’s lips pursed, and he seemed to be reining in his anger. “Not in the slightest, sir. Were you using drugs this evening?”
“Is someone going to look at my head? What if I die of a brain bleed or something while you’re sitting here harassing me? That won’t look very good, will it?”
“You’ve had a CAT scan. You’ll get the results soon.”
“What about my Lexus?”
“What about it?”
“Are they towing it? I want it towed to my mechanic, not some overpriced scam artist.”
“Your car is currently being processed as evidence in a crime scene,” the officer said. “I’m not sure when you’ll be getting it back.”
“A crime scene! That’s ridiculous.”
Detective Baird moved away from the reception desk and nodded his head for them to come over. Eve jumped up and moved toward him.
“Well? What’s going on?”
“Your grandmother’s had a stroke. They’re admitting her into the ICU.”
“Oh, no!”
Officer Smith grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling over.
“It will be a while before they know the
severity of the stroke, or what the prognosis is for her recovery.”
“Poor Button.”
“I spoke to one of the paramedics who brought her in, and he said she showed signs of full paralysis along one side of her body, but she tried to speak to them, which is possibly a good sign. Also, they attended the scene within minutes of her calling 911, so she received medical attention very quickly. This is good news.”
“Okay,” Eve tried to say, but it came out as a sob.
“There’s one other thing.” Detective Baird’s tone was strange.
She looked up at him. “What?”
“Neither the nurse at the reception desk, nor the paramedic who brought in your grandmother, know anything about your son.”
“What?”
“I’ve radioed for patrol officers to go to your house. I suspect he was asleep in his bedroom when your grandmother had the stroke, and by the time the paramedics arrived she wasn’t able to tell them that he was in the house.”
She cupped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, no!”
“He’s probably still asleep,” the detective said.
“Oh, I hope so.”
“Officers will confirm that he’s safe, and wait there until someone from Child Services arrives.”
Eve erupted in wracking sobs. Through the blur of tears, she saw the man with the ice pack watching her. Officer Smith handed her a clump of tissues with which she tried to mop her face and blow her nose. Detective Baird produced a blanket from somewhere and wrapped it around her shoulders. They led her over to a bank of plastic chairs on the far side of the waiting area.
Eventually, she calmed down enough to ask, “May I go in to see her?”
“Once they’ve got her admitted and stabilized, they’ll let you have a few minutes with her.”
“Okay.” She pulled the blanket up around her chin.
“Ma’am, can I get you some water?” Officer Smith asked. “Or something hot to drink?”
“Some tea would be nice, thank you.”
Detective Baird eased into the seat beside her and picked up a magazine.
“They’ll let you know how Gabriel is doing when they get to my house?”
“As soon as they get there.”
“Okay.”
The man with the ice pack still watched her, like she was a car wreck on the side of the road or a natural disaster that was impossible to look away from. She did her best not to meet his eyes.
The Day She Died Page 23
