Ethan turned up the volume a notch as she coasted through a stop sign. “It’s not bad,” he said, probably testing her. “Is this the fat one singing?”
“She’s not fat.”
Ethan barked a laugh.
“She can lose weight, Ethan. You’ll always be a stupid bastard.” When he just laughed again, she added, “Like Kurt Cobain was so hot.”
“I didn’t like that faggot.”
“Why is it,” Lena asked, “that every woman who doesn’t want to fuck you is a dyke and every guy who isn’t cool enough to be you is a faggot?”
“I never said—”
“My sister happened to be a lesbian,” Lena reminded him.
“I know that.”
“My best friend is a lesbian,” Lena said, even though she had never given much thought to Nan being her best friend.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with me?” she echoed, slamming on the brakes so hard his head nearly banged into the dashboard. “I told you to put on your fucking seat belt.”
“All right,” he said, giving her a look that said she was being an unreasonable bitch.
“Forget it,” she told him, taking off her own seat belt.
“What are you doing?” he asked as she reached over to open his door. “Jesus Christ, what—”
“Get out,” she ordered.
“What the fuck?”
She pushed him, screaming, “Get the fuck out of my car!”
“All right!” he screamed back, getting out of the car. “You’re goddamn crazy, you know that?”
She pressed the gas pedal to the floorboard, making his door slam from the momentum. She drove maybe fifty feet before hitting the brakes so hard the tires squealed. When she got out of the car, Ethan was walking up the road, his body vibrating with rage. She could see his fists were clenched and spit flew from his mouth as he yelled, “Don’t you ever drive away from me again, you stupid bitch!”
Lena felt amazingly calm as she pulled his bike out of the back of the car and dropped it on the road. Ethan started running to catch up with her. He was still running when she glanced up in her rearview mirror as she turned the corner.
“What are you smiling about?” Jeffrey asked as soon as she walked into the squad room. He was standing by the coffee machine, and she wondered if he was waiting for her.
“Nothing,” she told him.
He poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her.
She took it, feeling cautious, saying, “Thanks.”
“You want to tell me about Terri Stanley?”
Lena felt her stomach drop.
He topped off his own cup before saying, “In my office.”
Lena led the way, sweat dripping down her back, wondering if this was finally the last straw for him. The only job she had ever known was being a cop. There was nothing else she could do. Her hiatus last year had proven as much.
He leaned on his desk, waiting for her to take a seat.
He said, “You weren’t at the picnic last year.”
“No,” she agreed, clutching the arms on the chair much as Terri Stanley had done two days before.
“What’s going on, Lena?”
“I thought . . .” Lena began, not able to finish her sentence. What did she think? What could she tell Jeffrey without revealing too much about herself?
“Is it the alcohol?” he asked, and for a moment she had no idea what he was talking about.
“No,” she said. Then, “I made that up.”
He didn’t seem surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she admitted. She let some of the truth come out, a thin stream of air escaping from a balloon. “Dale hits her.”
Jeffrey had been about to take a sip of coffee, but his cup stopped in midair.
“I saw bruises on her arm.” She nodded her head, like she was confirming it to herself. “I recognized them. I know what they look like.”
Jeffrey put down his cup.
“I told her I’d help her get away.”
He guessed. “She didn’t want to go.”
Lena shook her head.
He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest. “You think you’re the right person to help her?”
Lena felt the heat of his stare. This was the closest they had come to talking about Ethan since she had started seeing him last year.
“I know he uses his hands on you,” Jeffrey said. “I’ve seen the marks. I’ve seen you coming in with makeup covering the bruises under your eye. I’ve seen the way you cringe when you breathe because he’s hit you so hard in the gut you can barely stand up straight.” He added, “You work in a police station, Lena. You didn’t think a bunch of cops would notice?”
“Which cops?” she asked, feeling panicked, exposed.
“This cop,” he said, and that was all she really needed to hear.
Lena looked at the floor, shame pulsing through every inch of her body.
“My dad used to hit my mom,” he said, and though she had guessed this a long time ago, Lena was surprised that he was confiding in her. Jeffrey seldom talked about anything from his personal life that didn’t connect directly to a case. “I used to get in between them,” he said. “I figured if he was beating on me, he’d have less for her later.”
Lena traced her tongue along the inside of her lip, feeling the deep scars from the many times Ethan had busted the skin. He had broken a tooth six months ago. Two months after that, he had slapped her so hard on the side of the head that she still had trouble hearing things out of her right ear.
“Never worked that way,” Jeffrey said. “He’d get mad at me, beat me to the floor, then he’d haul off on her just as hard. Used to be I’d think he was trying to kill her.” He paused, but Lena refused to look up. “Till one day I figured it out.” He paused again. “She wanted him to,” he said, no trace of emotion in his voice. He was matter-of-fact about it, as if he had realized a long time ago that there was nothing he could do.
He continued, “She wanted him to end it. She didn’t see any other way out.”
Lena felt herself nodding. She wasn’t getting out. This morning was just part of an act she used to convince herself she wasn’t completely lost. Ethan would be back. He was always back. She would only be free when he was finished with her.
Jeffrey said, “Even with him dead, part of me still thinks she’s waiting for it. Waiting for that one hit that knocks the life out of her.” Almost to himself, he added, “Not that there’s much life left.”
Lena cleared her throat. “Yeah,” she said. “I guess that’s how Terri feels.”
Jeffrey was obviously disappointed. “Terri, huh?”
She nodded, making herself look up, willing tears not to come into her eyes. She felt so raw that it was a struggle to even move. With anyone else, she would be breaking down, telling them everything. Not Jeffrey, though. She couldn’t let him see her like this. No matter what, she couldn’t let him see how weak she was.
She said, “I don’t think Pat knows.”
“No,” Jeffrey agreed. “Pat would haul Dale in if he knew. Even if they are brothers.”
“So, what are we going to do?”
“You know how it is.” He shrugged. “You’ve been on the job long enough to know how it works. We can bring a case, but it won’t stick unless Terri steps up to the plate. She’s got to testify against him.”
“She won’t do that,” Lena said, remembering how she had called the woman a coward. Called herself a coward. Could Lena stand up in court and point out Ethan? Would she have the will to accuse him, to send him away? The thought of confronting him sent a tingle of fear straight up her spine.
“Something I learned from my mama,” Jeffrey said, “is that you can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”
“No,” she agreed.
“Statistically, an abused woman is most likely to be murdered when she leaves her abuser.”
“Right,” she said, flash
ing on Ethan again, the way he had chased after her car this morning. Had she thought it would be that easy? Had she really thought he would let it go at that? He was probably planning his revenge right now, thinking of all kinds of pain he could bring down on her to punish her for even thinking she could get away.
He repeated, “You can’t help people who don’t want to be helped.”
Lena nodded. “You’re right.”
He stared at her for another moment. “I’ll check in with Pat when he’s back, tell him what’s up.”
“You think he’ll do anything?”
“I think he’ll try,” Jeffrey answered. “He loves his brother. That’s the thing people don’t understand.”
“What people?”
“People who aren’t in it,” he said, taking his time to explain. “It’s hard to hate somebody you love.”
She nodded, chewing her lip, unable to speak.
He stood. “Buddy’s here.” He asked, “We okay?”
“Uh,” Lena began. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he said, all business as he opened the door. He walked out of the office and Lena followed, still not knowing what to say. Jeffrey was acting as if nothing had happened between them, flirting with Marla, saying something about her new dress as he leaned down to buzz Buddy into the squad room.
The lawyer hobbled in on a single crutch, his prosthetic leg nowhere to be seen.
Jeffrey’s tone seemed forced to Lena, like he was trying his damnedest to pretend everything was right in the world. He joked with Buddy, “Wife take your leg again?”
Buddy wasn’t his usual avuncular self. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Jeffrey stood back, letting Buddy go ahead of him. As they started to walk, Lena saw that Jeffrey was limping almost in exact time with Buddy. Buddy noticed this, too, and gave a sharp look.
Jeffrey seemed embarrassed. “I cut my foot last night.”
Buddy raised his eyebrows. “Don’t let it get infected.” He tapped his stump to reinforce the warning. Jeffrey’s face turned almost completely white.
He said, “I had Brad put Patty in the back room.”
Lena took the lead, walking back to the interrogation room, trying not to think about what Jeffrey had said in his office. She forced herself to focus instead on his conversation with Buddy about the high school football team. The Rebels were looking at a tough season, and the men recited statistics like preachers reading from the Bible.
She heard Patty O’Ryan before she even opened the door. The girl was screaming like a banshee in heat.
“Get me the fuck out of here! Get these fucking chains the fuck off me, you goddamn motherfuckers!”
Lena stood outside the door as she waited for the others to catch up. She had to section off the part of her brain that kept going over Jeffrey’s words. She had to stop letting her feelings get in the way of her job. She had already fucked up the interview with Terri Stanley. There was no way she could screw up again. She wouldn’t be able to face herself.
As if sensing her thoughts, Jeffrey raised an eyebrow at Lena, asking if she was ready to do this. Lena gave him a curt nod, and he looked through the window in the door, telling Buddy, “She’s having a little problem with withdrawal this morning.”
“Get me the fuck out of here!” O’Ryan screeched at the top of her lungs. At least, Lena hoped that was the loudest the girl was capable of screaming. As it was, the glass was shaking in the door.
Jeffrey offered to Buddy, “You wanna go in there and talk to her alone before we start this?”
“Hell no,” he said, shocked by the suggestion. “Don’t you dare leave me alone in there with her.”
Jeffrey opened the door, holding it for Buddy and Lena.
“Daddy,” O’Ryan said, her voice husky from yelling so much. “I’ve got to get out of here. I’ve got an appointment. I’ve got a job interview. I need to go or I’m gonna be late.”
“You might want to go home and change first,” Lena suggested, noting that O’Ryan had torn her skimpy stripper attire.
“You,” O’Ryan said, focusing all her rage on Lena. “You just shut the fuck up, you spic bitch.”
“Settle down,” Jeffrey told her, sitting across from her at the table. Buddy’s spot was normally on the other side with the defendant, but he sat in the chair by Jeffrey. Lena would be damned if she would put herself within the girl’s reach again, so she stood by the mirror, arms crossed, to watch the proceedings.
Jeffrey said, “Tell me about Chip.”
“What about Chip?”
“He your boyfriend?”
She looked at Buddy for the answer. To his credit, he didn’t give her an inch.
O’Ryan told Jeffrey, “We had a thing.” She jerked her head back to get her hair out of her eyes. Under the table, her foot was bobbing up and down like a rabbit in heat. Every muscle in her body was tensed, and Lena guessed from all this that the girl was jonesing for a fix. She had seen enough junkies going through withdrawal in the cells to know that it must hurt like a motherfucker. If O’Ryan wasn’t such a bitch, she might feel sorry for her.
“What’s a ‘thing’?” Jeffrey asked. “That mean you slept with him some, maybe got high together?”
She kept her focus on Buddy, as if she wanted to punish him. “Something like that.”
“Do you know Rebecca Bennett?”
“Who?”
“What about Abigail Bennett?”
She gave a disgusted snort that made her nostrils flair. “She’s a Jesus freak from over at that farm.”
“Did Chip have a relationship with her?”
She shrugged, the handcuff around her wrist banging into the metal ring on the table.
Jeffrey repeated, “Did Chip have a relationship with her?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she kept tapping the handcuff against the ring.
Jeffrey sat back with a sigh, like he didn’t want to do what he was about to have to do. Buddy obviously recognized the play, and though he braced himself, he didn’t do anything to stop it.
“Recognize Chip?” Jeffrey asked, dropping a Polaroid on the table.
Lena craned her neck, trying to see which of the crime scene photos from Chip Donner’s room he had led with. They were all bad, but this one in particular— the close-up of the face showing where the lips had been practically ripped off— was horrendous.
O’Ryan smirked at Jeffrey. “That’s not Chip.”
He tossed down another photo. “Is this him?”
She glanced down, then looked away. Lena saw Buddy was staring at the only door in the room, probably wishing he could hop the hell out of here.
“How about this one?” Jeffrey asked, tossing down another.
O’Ryan was beginning to understand. Lena saw her bottom lip start to tremble. The girl had cried plenty of times since being taken into custody, but this was the first time Lena thought her tears were real.
Her body had stilled. She whispered, “What happened?”
“Obviously,” Jeffrey began, dropping the rest of the Polaroids on the table, “he pissed somebody off.”
She pulled up her legs on the chair, holding them against her chest. “Chip,” she whispered, rocking back and forth. Lena had seen suspects do this often. It was a way they had of soothing themselves, as if over the years they had realized no one was going to do it for them, so they had to adapt.
Jeffrey asked, “Was somebody after him?”
She shook her head. “Everybody liked Chip.”
“I’d guess from these pictures there’s somebody out there who wouldn’t agree with you.” Jeffrey let that sink in. “Who would do this to him, Patty?”
“He was trying to do better,” she said, her voice still low. “He was trying to clean up.”
“He wanted to get off drugs?”
She was staring at the Polaroids, not touching them, and Jeffrey stacked them together, putting them back in his pocket. “Talk to me, Patty.”
Her bod
y gave a great shudder. “They met on the farm.”
“The soy farm in Catoogah?” Jeffrey clarified. “Chip was there?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Everybody knows you can hang there for a couple of weeks if you need to. You go to church on Sundays, pick a couple of beans, and they give you food, give you a place to sleep. You pretend to pray and shit and they give you a safe place to stay.”
“Did Chip need a safe place to stay?”
She shook her head.
Jeffrey’s tone was conciliatory. “Tell me about Abby.”
“He met her on the farm. She was a kid. He thought she was funny. Next thing you know, he’s busted for holding. Goes up a few years. When he comes back, Abby’s all grown.” She wiped a tear from her eye. “She was just this goody-two-shoes bitch, and he fell for it. Fell for all of it.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“She’d come to the Kitty. Can you believe that?” She laughed at the absurdity. “She’d be in her ugly, plain clothes and Mary Janes and she’d say, ‘Come on, Chip, come on to church with me. Come pray with me.’ And he’d go right with her without even telling me good-bye.”
“Were they sexually involved?”
She snorted a laugh. “There’s not a crowbar been invented could pull those knees apart.”
“She was pregnant.”
O’Ryan’s head snapped up.
“Do you think Chip was the father?”
She didn’t even hear the question. Lena could see the anger building in her like a kettle about to boil over. She was like Cole Connolly in that they shared the same quick temper, but for some reason, Lena felt more of a threat from the girl being out of control than the older man.
“Stupid bitch,” she hissed through her teeth. She was clanging the handcuff against the metal ring again, rapping out noise like a snare drum. “He probably took her to the fucking woods. That was our fucking spot.”
“The woods over in Heartsdale? The forest?”
“Stupid cunt,” she spat, oblivious to the connection he was trying to make. “We used to go there and get high when we were in school.”
“You went to school with Chip?”
She indicated Buddy. “Till that fucker kicked me out,” she said. “Threw me on the streets. I had to fend for myself.” Buddy didn’t stir. “I told Chip to stay away from her. That whole fucking family is crazy.”