Oh man. I’m not proud of myself. I don’t enjoy making people feel bad. I would’ve never said those things to Whitney—though they’re true—except I was at the end of my rope. I was totally overwhelmed by everything that happened today.
Whitney sucked in a breath like I’d just kicked her in the stomach. Then she grabbed her bag and stormed out. The last thing she said was, “You’ll be sorry.”
The door slammed shut. Preya and I looked at each other and burst out laughing. It felt so good—and strange—to laugh. I haven’t done that in such a long time. I don’t know what made it funny, except the whole thing was so ridiculous. Preya was like, “I think she was trying to scare you.” I was like, “Totally.” Which was the funny part. As if that girl can do any worse than what’s already been done.
16
Dylan’s hand felt like a steel vise on her arm.
“Let go of me,” Jody said.
Dylan narrowed his eyes. “Not till you tell me why you’re here.”
“To study with Peter, like I said.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it.”
He hauled her toward the staircase. She tried to yank her arm away, but he was too strong. Her feet skidded along the wooden floor. Panic rose in her throat. She didn’t want to yell and get everyone to come running. She’d wanted to slip in and out unnoticed. But she could not let him drag her upstairs.
“Okay, okay, okay,” she said. “Wait. Just stop and I’ll tell you.”
He didn’t stop; he dragged her even harder. They were at the staircase.
“I’m . . .” She tried to think through her panic. She looked at the large frame on the wall. Across the top, it said: BETA PSI, CLASS OF 2014. Below were pictures of several dozen boys wearing blue blazers and ties. “If you have to know, okay, I’m here as a prank. From my sorority. I was, like, supposed to steal your composite.”
Dylan stopped pulling her. “What sorority?”
“Please don’t be mad, okay?” She desperately tried to remember the names on the houses she’d passed on the way here. “Gamma Phi Delta. Please don’t tell my sisters, okay? I’ll get in so much trouble.”
He loosened his grip. Then he smiled and let go. He took the picture off the wall and handed it to her. “Make sure it’s back before our Playboy Mansion party.”
“I totally will,” Jody said. The picture was huge and unwieldy, hard to hold, but she moved as fast as she could. “Thank you so much!”
He opened the door for her. She fled from the fraternity house. She walked quickly to her car, sure he was going to run after her and grab her. She made it to her Yukon, popped the trunk, and stuffed the picture in. She threw herself into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and pressed lock.
But even the solid clunk of the doors locking couldn’t stop her shaking. Her heart must be going a hundred beats a minute. Her breath, coming in fast gulps, quickly steamed up the cold windows. She was too drunk to drive, but at least she felt some level of safety in the car.
She pulled out her phone and took a picture of her trembling hand, with its four lavender fingers and one dark purple nail. Then she texted the photo to Anna, along with a link to the website of the date-rape-drug-detecting nail polish.
Jody texted, Maybe now you can search the frat.
17
Anna looked at her sister’s text. “Oh God, Jody,” she murmured. “What have you done?”
She started to respond, then stopped. Texts could become evidence. Jack always said, “Don’t put anything in a text or e-mail that you don’t want published in the Washington Post.” She would talk to her sister in person.
• • •
Anna parked in Cooper’s driveway and looked around her new car with satisfaction. It was a gray Chevy Impala with government tags. Not exactly glamorous, but it was all hers, at least while she was investigating the case. Anna was a Detroit girl at heart; she thought there were few things as empowering as your own car.
The file from Tower University sat on the passenger seat. She picked it up with distaste. Bryan Frink had given it to her at 7:55 P.M.—five minutes before the court-imposed deadline. Three separate women had pursued sex-assault charges against Dylan through the university. Their cases all ended without an official finding against Dylan—two had stopped pursuing charges, and in the last, Dylan had been found “not responsible.” Anna would reach out to the women in these three files.
Despite massive efforts, there was no further sign of Emily. No clothes in fields. No sightings in town. No activity online. It had been over forty-eight hours. If she were lying in a ditch, she was already dead. Now Anna had to turn to the bleak hope she was tied up in some closet.
Anna grabbed the file and walked up Cooper’s driveway. Her exhausted mind thought, It’s good to be home. She immediately brushed the thought away. Whatever instinct told her that this was home had to be suppressed. Anna had long ago learned to trust her head, not her heart, in romantic matters. Her relationship instincts were like a broken compass. Only her logic could be trusted. Logic said D.C. was home.
Inside, Sparky greeted her with a wag of his tail and a lick. Anna scratched under his chin, then walked to the living room. The embers of a cherrywood fire still glowed orange.
Cooper himself was sleeping on the coach, holding Leigh in his arms. The baby snuggled into his broad chest with a blissed-out smile on her face. Anna knew the feeling.
Anna stopped and watched them for a moment. There was something beautiful about the big Army Ranger holding the tiny infant. Leigh let out a little cooing sound and Anna went over. She sat on the couch and stroked the infant’s soft hair.
She loved this baby. That love had sparked an understanding of how deeply she wanted to be a mother too. Despite how cruel the world could be—or because of it. There was nothing as pure and simple as the love of a child and the deep urge to protect her. She looked at Cooper, his thick eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks. He’d be a great father. She could tell by what she knew of him: his resilience and gentleness, his optimism and generosity. She could tell by how he’d fought for her and Jody when the world was against them. She could tell by the way he held the baby, with tender protectiveness, even in his sleep.
Jack, too, was a wonderful father. Anna didn’t have to speculate. She’d seen him with Olivia. Her own idea of what a good father should be was based on Jack’s relationship with his daughter. Anna missed that little girl so much, it sometimes felt like a hole in her chest. She wondered what Olivia was doing now. Did she still use the nightlight Anna got her? Did she still like to be patted to sleep? Anna found herself patting Cooper’s leg.
She knew what her life with Jack would be like because she’d lived it. She would live in his beautiful yellow Victorian in Takoma Park, a fun and quirky suburb of D.C. They’d be a husband-and-wife prosecutor team. They’d commute in together, walking through the pretty neighborhood to the subway. Olivia would start calling her Mom, as Anna had long dreamed. She’d be half of a D.C. power couple, with all the attendant privileges and stress.
Life with Cooper was more uncertain. There were far fewer options for a lawyer here than in D.C. Could she see herself living permanently on this farm? Would Cooper ever want to leave? He loved this city, what he’d built, the connections he’d made with other community leaders who were fighting to bring back Detroit. They’d made a big difference. Although a lot of the city was abandoned and blighted, there were some genuine bright spots: coffee shops, breweries, a vibrant art scene, farm-to-table restaurants that featured Cooper’s kale. A sense of opportunity had come when the city hit rock bottom. Cooper and people like him were taking that opportunity and doing creative, wonderful things to bring it back. But this was no place to raise a child. And if there was one thing Anna had learned about herself, it was that she wanted to start a family.
The front door opened and the unfamiliar sound of high heels clacked on the foyer floor. Anna straightened and stood as Jody walked into the living room.
She was dressed to kill, all flowy blond hair and tight jeans. Her low-cut blouse was wet across her breasts. She grinned excitedly at Anna and held up lavender fingernails.
“Hey, sis!” Jody said in an excited stage whisper that wouldn’t wake the baby. “Have I got a story for you!”
“I’m a little scared to hear what could make you leave your baby for the first time.”
“Grady babysat—he’s actually better with her than I expected. And then he came and drove me home. It was the most exciting night I’ve had in a while. I mean, wow, a serious rush. I went to the Beta Psi house at Tower.”
Anna stared at her. “Please tell me this is all a big joke.”
“No. I got some great evidence for you.” Jody held up her one purple fingernail and explained her night. “It means he slipped a drug in my drink!”
Anna was furious. “You could’ve been in serious danger!”
“I knew what I was doing.”
“You absolutely did not know what you were doing. When I send someone into a place undercover, we have all sorts of protections. They’re miked up so I can listen. There are police watching, making sure the undercover is safe. There are police stationed outside, ready to rush in if things get out of hand. What if you didn’t notice he’d spiked your drink? You’d be in Dylan’s bed right now, being . . .”
She was so upset, she couldn’t even say the words.
“Annie, it’s okay. I wasn’t going to drink anything I didn’t see opened right in front of me. And what else were they going to do? They’re a fraternity, not the Mafia.”
“You’re an autoworker, not a police officer.”
“No. I’m more effective than the police.” Jody grinned.
“This Wild West spirit is what got you in trouble in the first place,” Anna said. “I just got you out of it. We don’t need any more.”
“That’s actually why I did it.” Jody’s face got serious. “You helped me. I wanted to help you.”
“You might have asked!”
“If I asked, you wouldn’t have let me. Plus, then I’d be a government agent. This way, you can use my evidence.”
“I’m not sure I can use it. You’re my sister. It’s not like you’re a neutral party. You totally have a bias.”
“You’ll sort it all out.”
Anna closed her eyes. She felt the warmth from the dying fire on her eyelids. She took a deep breath and tried to remember that her sister was trying to help. And the fact that a date-rape drug had been served in the house might give her the evidence necessary to search the house for the drugs. Anything else she found during that search would be admissible in a case against Dylan.
“It was a good idea,” she said at last. “I just wish I’d thought of it myself and had it done with an undercover agent.”
“That wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun,” Jody said.
“My work isn’t about fun.”
“None of your life is, really.”
Anna was too tired for this. Still, she asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re devoted to your job. That’s great, I mean, it’s commendable. But you need more than that, Annie. Even your fiancé, Jack, was someone who was sort of your boss. Everything in your life is about being a prosecutor.”
“I’m proud of being a prosecutor, and I am trying to save a girl’s life.”
“I hope you do. But, Annie, at some point or another, you’re going to have to think about your own life—and what you really want to be doing with it.”
Jody stood and gently picked up her baby from Cooper’s arms and took her upstairs.
Cooper opened his eyes, which crinkled when they saw Anna. “Hey, you.”
“Hey, you.”
“You doing okay?”
She shook her head. “I’m either going to get a big break in my case, or I’m going to get kicked off it.”
“Come here,” he said. “There’s nothing like lying down next to someone who loves you. That’s the best place on earth, for me at least.”
She lay down next to him on the couch. He shifted so his arm went around her and she could snuggle into his chest. He was right. She felt instantly better. She fell asleep right there on the couch.
MONDAY
18
I’m sorry,” Anna told the judge. “It’s not how I would normally conduct an investigation.”
She stood in Judge Schwalbe’s chambers, Sam at her side. The judge sat behind his desk, looking at the papers in front of him with distaste, as if she’d just served him a sandwich on moldy bread.
She didn’t like drafting this warrant any more than he liked being asked to sign it. But she’d had a long discussion with Sam and Jack this morning, going over the pros and cons of using Jody’s evidence. It wasn’t good to use your sister as an undercover investigator. There was a taint of nepotism and bias. One’s sister certainly had an incentive to shade the truth to help the other. So Jody’s testimony was problematic, to say the least. In a perfect world, Anna would send in a neutral investigator to replicate what Jody had done. The problem was, they might never be able to repeat the results Jody had gotten. Frankly, Anna was amazed at what Jody had accomplished. A seasoned investigator might not do better with years of training and months of planning.
And they needed to go in and check out the fraternity house, now, while there was still a chance that evidence inside could help them find Emily alive. They couldn’t wait to see if they could repeat Jody’s success. So Sam had interviewed Jody and written up her visit in the affidavit supporting their application for a search warrant. Anna disclosed in the paperwork that she was Jody’s sister. Of course, that’s what the judge focused on.
“Ms. Curtis, as the prosecutor, you are entrusted with special duties: fairness, impartiality.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Making your sister an investigator does not confer your investigation with an air of impartiality.”
“As noted in the affidavit, I didn’t make my sister an investigator. I never asked her to go to the fraternity house. She chose to do it, completely on her own. I learned of it afterward.”
“That’s slicing the baloney rather thin, don’t you think? How did she even know to go there, unless you divulged secret grand jury information to her?”
“I told her no 6(e) information,” Anna said.
He looked at her with disappointment. Anna felt a pang in her chest. She liked this judge and wanted him to like her too. The judge sighed and shook his head.
“I’m very disappointed with this. I’m going to sign it, because I do believe it establishes probable cause that you’ll find evidence of a crime—the crime of drug-facilitated sexual assault—within the house. But you’re asking me to put the reputation of this court at stake in doing so. I expect the government to uphold the highest standards, Ms. Curtis. I gave you the benefit of the doubt before. But I will have to examine anything you bring to me very closely from now on.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Ms. Curtis. I received a motion from Dylan Highsmith’s counsel.” He handed a paper over his desk to her. “You’d get a copy tomorrow, but you might as well see it now. They’re moving to have you disqualified from the case. They claim that you physically assaulted the young man when you went to talk to him at the fraternity house.”
“I—”
Sam put a hand on her arm and cut Anna off. “I was there and that isn’t what happened.”
“You will respond to those allegations in due course. I’ll demand that. My clerk set up a time for an evidentiary hearing on Monday. We’ll take testimony on this, and I’ll decide if you can keep the case. Ms. Curtis, you’d better make hay while the sun shines.”
• • •
Driving to Tower University, Anna was quiet.
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam said. “Every defendant accuses the police or prosecutor of misconduct. The best defense is a good offense. If they didn’t do it at one point or another, they wouldn’
t be worth their seven hundred and fifty an hour.”
“I really did kick Dylan in the balls.”
“He grabbed you. The police can’t be recused from every case where a suspect starts a brawl. It’ll be fine. It’s just a bunch of chest thumping.”
Anna nodded, leaned her head back on the headrest, and tried to believe Sam.
The FBI SWAT team was waiting for them in a church parking lot. At seven A.M., they were the only cars there. The March morning was cold and quiet, the sun rising into a low gray sky. Anna got out and hugged a tall, slim FBI agent named Steve Quisenberry. Steve and Sam were partners; they’d all worked several cases in D.C. Steve had a searing intellect and a gentle manner that made witnesses trust him. This morning, he also had muffins and coffee. Sam punched him in the arm and took a chocolate chip muffin. Anna gratefully poured a cup of coffee from the Panera box.
While Anna and Sam had been in court making the legal case for their search, Steve had planned its execution. He’d spoken to Jody and gotten the layout of the frat house. He’d pulled public records for the floor plan. He ran background checks of the inhabitants. Now Steve handed everyone an operations plan and briefed them. Twenty-three agents in FBI flak jackets stood in front of him, scarfing muffins and coffee while he spoke.
“We can expect to encounter around forty frat boys who live there,” Steve said, “and whatever guests may be sleeping over. The newest members sleep in a single big room on the third level. More senior members sleep on the second floor, where there are ten bedrooms. The first floor holds a foyer, a kitchen, a large living room, and three smaller TV dens. And the basement has two rooms: a giant one for parties and then a smaller one that can be sealed off with a metal door. That’s got to be the ritual room, called the Crypt. There are no records of any rooms below the Crypt, although we have rumors that such a room exists.”
The Last Good Girl Page 13
