We Are All the Same in the Dark - Julia Heaberlin Page 0,30

Trumanell, you thought she was Trumanell at first. You snapped her picture with your cellphone, without her permission. They’ve got the proof of that because now they have your phone. As we speak, someone is going through every search you ever made.”

I let that sink in. There’s nobody on earth who hasn’t made a search they prefer no one ever sees. A cellphone is platinum to a cop, a tool to scrape every bit of blackmail material to the surface. A person of interest in a case should never, ever carry a phone.

Wyatt’s tan is bleached under the harsh fluorescent. His face, impassive. I’ve been trying to be as matter-of-fact as possible. Inside, I’m seething. I want both him and the people watching this silent movie to wonder whose side I’m on.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Wyatt? Getting drunk. Scaring the crap out of those girls. And what you did to Lizzie? Cruel. She’s a sweet, shy girl, who has been teased about looking like Trumanell since she was in middle school. Everybody knows that’s why she dyed her hair and changed the color of her contacts. She’s considered a nose job even though her nose is perfect. In fact, it’s hard for me to believe, along with every other cop in this place, that you didn’t seek her out specifically to provoke—”

“I had to see her for myself.” His voice cuts through mine. “After she was on TV.”

“Don’t. Talk. Whatever your interest, it was suicidal. They are on you. My partner, Rusty, is going to interview you. He is not your friend even though he will tell you he is mine. There will be another cop with him who is also not your friend, but you’ll know that right away. You will think you’ve seen this good guy–bad guy routine on TV a thousand times and won’t fall for it, but it’s so tough when it’s happening to you, Wyatt. They will stick an ice pick in every nerve. Everybody has a breaking point. Everybody. You will want badly to make them understand, and if you go that route, one of them will pretend that he does. Don’t fall for it.”

I suck in another deep breath and expel it noisily. It’s so cold, I’m surprised I can’t see it. “I respectfully ask to see my lawyer before answering any questions. That’s what you’re going to say instead of punching one of them in the mouth. They want you to get primal. They live for suspects like you, with muscle. They even have a name for inciting suspects before they walk in the room. Going for some Sugar. You know who came up with that line? My granddaddy, in honor of Sugar Ray Robinson. He was a fan. He threw some punches in here himself.”

I let my eyes drift to the camera on the ceiling, hesitating. I know its blind spot. How far can I go in pissing Rusty off?

“Move down to the far corner of the bench.” I palm his arm roughly. “I mean it. Move. Hold out your hand.” The last sentence an order.

He unfurls his fingers slowly. We have about two square feet to work with, so my leg is snug against his knee. I press a pen to his palm, first gently, then harder, to overcome the ridges and calluses.

“That’s my husband’s cell number. As you know, a lawyer. A really good one. I called him, and he’s coming, but he’s more than an hour away. The charges right now are drunk and disorderly and misdemeanor harassment. Hopefully, they won’t add anything else. The Raymond girl’s parents are pretty upset, and they have a lot of friends in the church, so the noise outside isn’t going anywhere. It wouldn’t be so bad for you to stay the rest of the night to wear them out, and post bail early in the morning.”

That was Finn’s advice.

I didn’t expect Finn to say he’d show up himself. I thought he’d send a partner. I called because his firm had been hinting to him for years that they wanted a hook in the Branson case. What’s it like being married to part of the Branson legend? What’s it like having sex with a girl with one leg? The second question they didn’t actually ask, but I always felt was implied. I figured that call to Finn was the least I owed him after my terrible behavior—the opportunity to hand a high-profile case to his partners, the one every