Stevie said, though in her mind’s eye, she was looking at the hatch door again. She felt it in her hand, the weight of it as she balanced on the thin-runged rail of the ladder. “But it’s important we don’t try to make anything up. Just be clear. Just say what you know.”
“That’s good advice.” Larry was standing in front of them. He squatted down and looked Nate over, then looked to Stevie and nodded his approval. “This one here has a good head on her shoulders. The police need to go over the events.”
One of the troopers called Nate’s name and summoned him into the front parlor. Larry sat on the step next to Stevie.
“How you doing?” he said.
“I wrote some of it down,” Stevie said, showing him the notes. “As fresh as I could.”
Larry read the page carefully. Stevie followed his eyes as they went to each line.
“This is good,” he said, passing it back. “You’re handling this well.”
“Do you know what happened?” Stevie asked.
Larry shook his head.
“Don’t know?” Stevie said. “Or can’t say?”
“They’re ready for you,” an officer said, stepping up to Stevie and guiding her into the security office.
Here she was, watching a case up close, giving a statement, experiencing all the things she so longed to experience.
All it took was for someone to die.
17
THE POLICE KEPT STEVIE ABOUT A HALF HOUR. THE QUESTIONS WERE exactly what Stevie expected. Run through the order of the day. Who went where and what time? What was Hayes doing in the tunnel?
The collection of information, she knew, needs to be clinical. Don’t assume. Don’t get friendly. Ask the questions. Establish the timeline. Record accurately and quickly. She tried to keep her answers clear, short, but complete. No embellishments. No editorializing on what it all meant.
When she was done, Larry was waiting with Nate so they could drive back to Minerva. As the three of them stepped outside, a crime scene processing van made its way onto the property. This caught Stevie short for a moment and gave her a quick surge of panic. She thought again of the hatch. But it was very likely that all death scenes where the cause wasn’t immediately clear had to be processed.
The moon was thin like a hook, and the owls were calling. The smell of fall leaves blew on the wind and Hayes was dead.
They returned to a very wakeful Minerva. There was a kind of a suctioning sensation as she and Nate entered—like they vacuumed the conversation out of the air.
“Oh my God,” Janelle said, hurrying to Stevie and hugging her. “Are you okay? Oh my God. Is he really dead? Stevie? What happened?”
Over Janelle’s shoulder, Stevie looked at Ellie and David. They were hunched up together on the corner of the purple sofa. Ellie was largely in a ball—not crying, but vacant. David sat close to her, his arm dropped gently over her shoulder.
Nate started to giggle.
“What the hell are you laughing about?” Ellie snapped.
“I have no idea,” Nate said.
“It’s shock, El,” Pix said. “Just laugh, Nate. You can’t help how you react.”
Nate started laughing harder, and then he started to hiccup.
Stevie felt the sleepiness descending hard now. She was utterly calm, just very tired.
“I’m going to bed,” she said simply.
Back in her room, Stevie found that she was moving with very slow, precise motions. Most nights she just pulled off her clothes and threw them into her laundry sack. Tonight, she hung her coat carefully, pulled each arm delicately out of her shirt, removed her pants as if they were fragile. She rolled everything and dropped it carefully into the bag, then dug the warm, school-issued pajamas from the bottom of the dresser and put them on.
She climbed into bed, lights on, and stared straight ahead, gripping her phone as if waiting for it to ring. No one was going to call. It was just something to hold.
She had no idea how much time had gone by when there was a quiet knock on her door. At first she decided to ignore it, but then she pushed herself up and opened it.
Somehow she knew it would be David.
“Your light was on,” he said quietly. “Can I come in?”
She blinked and rubbed her neck, then shrugged and left the door hanging open. He came in and shut it. Stevie sat on the floor against the foot of her bed. He leaned against the wall. His hair had been tamed a bit and his expression was unusually serious.
“Do you know what