Ethan and Graham met up with Sadie for a late lunch at an Olive Garden by the mall. Ethan didn't feel much like eating, but his trembling hands and a cold sweat tipped him off that he had to get something in his stomach whether he wanted to or not.
Sadie had arrived first and was already seated at a table by the window. When Graham and Ethan joined her, she must have read the distress in their eyes. She asked for an immediate recap, and Ethan gave her as many details about the morning's events as he had the energy to spare. Graham nibbled on a bread stick quietly while Ethan told the story.
“Jimmy had to go to court this afternoon,” Ethan said after finishing his update, “so we're set to meet him back at his office later.”
The server dropped off three steaming plates of pasta with three different kinds of sauces. With the restaurant near empty between the lunch and dinner rushes, the silence felt twice as heavy as they ate. Hunger won out over Ethan's mood and he nearly finished his whole plate of fettuccini. Graham, on the other hand, stirred his spaghetti around the plate without eating much.
Sadie set her fork down and toyed with the straw in her water glass. “Dad's arthritis is acting up again. He needs me at the house tonight.”
“Sure.” He hoped the word hadn't come out too pinched. The thought of sleeping alone left him cold. “You take care of your dad.”
“I can still come over, it'll just be real late.”
“Don't worry about it. Neither one of us slept that good last night. You should stay home and get some rest.”
“It's no problem.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “Just promise to call first thing tomorrow morning.”
Ethan, Graham, and Jimmy sat at one end of an otherwise empty conference table. The conference room itself was massive and done all in polished oak with metallic hints of modernism. The Law Offices of Sabaugh & Sabaugh had relocated to much fancier digs since Ethan had called himself a client. Apparently, Sabaugh, Jr. had taken the family business to a whole new level of success.
Jimmy had his legal pad and fountain pen out again, but so far the pad remained blank.
“Graham, you have got to start talking,” Ethan said.
Graham seemed only to curl into a tighter ball in the oversized leather executive chair, his hands folded and pinched between his knees. “I told you, I never saw Alison that night.”
“Someone thinks you did. Why would anyone say that?”
“I don't know.”
“God damn it, Graham, where were you?”
Jimmy put a hand out and made a lowering gesture. “Easy now. Give the boy some time to think.”
Ethan ignored him. There was too much at stake to take things easy. He asked Graham, “Do you realize what the police are thinking right now?”
Graham cringed.
“They think you might have something to do with what happened to Alison.”
“I didn't!”
“That's not good enough. You have to tell us where you were.”
“Just walking.”
Ethan threw himself back in his own chair, causing it to roll a couple of inches on the mahogany floor. “Don't you realize how serious this is? Whatever you were up to doesn't matter.”
“I wasn't up to anything.” He cried, tears streaking down reddened cheeks. “Please, stop asking me about it.”
“How can I? Eventually, the cops are going to get you to answer these same questions. Do you want them to arrest you?”
Graham looked up at Jimmy as if asking if that were possible.
Jimmy shifted in his own chair, the leather creaking.
Ethan felt bad putting him in the middle of an argument like this, making the man obviously uncomfortable. Surely he of all people understood Ethan's panic, though.
“What could be so bad that you won't even tell me?”
Graham's gaze met Ethan's for an instant, then dropped.
“Tell me, Graham. Please.”
“There's nothing to tell.”
And that was it. Graham had turned himself into a stone wall.
Ethan reached out and grabbed Graham by the arm, shook him.
“Listen to me, you fool. You're sister's dead. Don't you give a damn about her? Don't you care who killed her?”
Jimmy stood. “Ethan, come on.”
Graham's muscles turned hard under Ethan's grip, but instead of trying to pull away, Graham gave himself over to Ethan's control.
Only Ethan didn't have control. Rage had taken over. He tugged Graham's arm again, pulling the boy to the edge of his seat. “This is ridiculous. Why won't you tell me where you were?”
Jimmy held out a placating hand. “Ethan, stop it.”
Ethan stood, pulling Graham up out of his chair with him.
Graham staggered, looking up at his father with the coldest stare Ethan had ever seen on him. “I can't.”
“Why?”
“I just can't!”
Ethan grabbed Graham's other arm and shook him. He couldn't pull back. He kept seeing Alison's graying face above the bright white sheet that covered the rest of her still body.
“What happened to you?” Ethan asked. “You were the good one. What the hell happened to my good son?”
Graham yanked himself out of Ethan's hold with surprising strength. He kicked his chair out of the way, sending it rolling until it clattered against the paneled wall. He charged out of the conference room, slamming the door behind him.
Chest heaving, Ethan turned to Jimmy.
Jimmy shook his head. “That won't work, my friend.”
Ethan flopped back into his chair. “What's wrong with me?”
“I'm a lawyer, not a counselor.”
Ethan leaned back in his chair and stared out the large window stretching across the eastern wall. They were four stories up. Dusk had settled over the city. Lights winked on in some business. A diner across the street buzzed with life under the heavy glow of its rotating sign.
Another day had slipped away. Another day without Alison.
How could time race by so quickly when it felt like time had actually stopped?
“Am I really a bad person?”
“You're human. And my opinion of people isn't a high one, so you're asking the wrong person for consolation.”
“I can't lose both my kids.” The growing night felt like it stared back at him through the window. He swiveled his chair to face Jimmy. “I can't imagine Graham had anything to do with what happened to Alison, but if he keeps hiding whatever it is he's hiding I'm not sure the police will be convinced.”
“I don't think you'll shake it out of him, though.”
“I know. I just . . . I lost control.”
Jimmy picked up his pen and doodled something on his legal pad. “You best find your son.”
“I'm sorry about all this. I'll call you later.” He headed for the door, but stopped and turned back to Jimmy. “He's not like me, Jim. Graham's a good kid.”
Jimmy didn't look up from his doodling. “It's not me who needs convincing.”
Ethan found Graham sitting in the car, glowering. When Ethan climbed behind the wheel he waited, hoping Graham might say something. Instead, he turned his head and stared out the passenger side window at nothing but the night.
Ethan started the engine, hesitated before putting the car in gear. He wanted to say something, but the moment felt too raw. Jimmy was right. Trying to shake an answer out of Graham would never work. Now, it would probably be harder than ever to get him to talk.
They drove home in silence.
As Ethan pulled into the driveway, he noticed a window at the front of the house illuminated from within. The rest of the house appeared dark. Since they had left during daylight, it didn't make sense any lights would be on.
“You leave your bedroom light on?”
Graham stirred from his sulk. “Why would I?”
Ethan cut the engine. It was hard to tell from the driveway at night, but it looked like the front door stood open an inch or two.
Ethan left the keys dangling in the ignition. “Stay here.” He got out of the car and approached the house.