THE PREDICAMENT
I try to look over my shoulder. “What do you mean? It’s torn?”
“There’s a piece missing from your shirt.”
The tone of the room has changed. I face the police and the dean, all three of whom are leaning toward me.
“I wasn’t aware there was a rip in my shirt.”
“Where, exactly, have you been tonight?” This from the detective, who has gone on alert, enhancing her resemblance to a raptor. Becca squeezes my hand even tighter.
“You two an item?” the detective suddenly asks.
“What?” My face starts to burn, and I jerk my hand away, but Becca has a death grip on me.
Dean Westhaven clears her throat. “That is a totally inappropriate question. I don’t see the relevance—”
Becca interrupts, “Why would you say that?”
The detective gestures toward us. “It’s nothing important. You’re holding hands. I was only wondering if you’re in a relationship.”
“I’m comforting her. You’re accusing her of murder.”
I yank my hand from Becca’s, heart taking off at a gallop. “I didn’t murder anyone.”
The sheriff has both hands up. “Whoa, whoa. We aren’t accusing anyone of anything right now. We’re just trying to figure out what happened to your roommate, Ash. Please answer the question. What is the nature of your relationship with Miss Curtis?”
“We’re not an item.”
“All right. Where were you tonight? Can you account for your whereabouts this evening?”
“I—”
“She was with me.” Becca’s voice is strong and clear.
Eyebrows rise all around.
“Not like that. We had a secret society meeting tonight. Ash was tapped. She was with me from a little after 10:00 p.m. until now. So, you see, she couldn’t have hurt Camille.”
Becca blows out her breath as if she’s been holding it and grabs my hand again. Squeezes hard. I get the message. Do not contradict me.
“Well, that’s very helpful,” the sheriff says. “But, Ash, I’m afraid we’re going to have to talk to you alone.”
The dean nods. “Wait outside, Becca dear. And see if you can ferret out who sent the summons, will you?”
With one last squeeze so hard my bones crush and tears start, Becca leaves.
“Why don’t you take a seat, Ash. I need to speak with the sheriff.”
The dean takes the sheriff by the arm and escorts him out into the hall. The detective follows, casting a last curious glance at me.
Oh, God. I am royally fucked.
“Tony, what is this? You can’t possibly think one of my students had anything to do with Camille’s death, especially Ash. She is so reticent she couldn’t hurt a fly, much less a person. There’s no way she had something to do with this.”
“She’s wearing a shirt with a tear in it, made of what looks like similar fabric to what we saw up in the bell tower. And need I mention it’s her roommate who died? I most certainly am not ruling it out. We need to find out if she was up there. And why. And what happened.”
“Then I’m afraid, as her guardian, I will have to call our lawyers. Alan Markert is in Lynchburg, he can be here in an hour, maybe less. My God, Tony, I can’t have you treating a student like a murder suspect.”
“But what if she is a murderer, Ford? Have you thought about that?”
She bites back a sharp reply. “Detective Wood, could you give us a moment, please?”
Kate nods and steps away. When she’s out of earshot, Ford whirls back to face Tony, whispering furiously.
“This is about us. You’re trying to punish me. I get it. I’m sorry you’re hurt, Tony. But we don’t work. Not anymore. Don’t you dare take your frustrations with me out on my girls.”
Tony’s lips press together in a thin line. “Ford, for an intelligent woman, you can be so colossally stupid sometimes. This situation has nothing to do with us because there is no us. There never will be. You made your position clear. I’m never going to leave this place, and you’re going to get out the first chance you get. I understand completely. But don’t think that just because I fucked you a few times it impairs my ability to do my job. If you want to call a lawyer, do it. I’ll call for a deputy to take Ash Carlisle to the office and do this formally. And I’ll give her a Breathalyzer, too.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You have no cause.”
He laughs, low and mean. “You think I can’t smell the alcohol on all y’all’s breaths? I most certainly do have cause, they’re underage. You aren’t, but I’ve seen you bleary-eyed enough to recognize you’ve had a few yourself. Do you think the parents would be happy about that? One of their kids dies while you’re partying?”
“I was not. My God, Tony. You can be so cruel. And you wonder why I broke it off.”
He takes a huge breath, blows it out. “If you’d like to stop being dramatic, you can let me have a civilized chat with the kid, outside of the influence of her girlfriend. Or a lawyer. There could be a simple explanation. It was pretty clear the older girl—Becca?—was controlling what Ash had to say. She was gripping Ash’s hand so tight it was turning white. Let me do my job, and I won’t interfere with yours.”
Ford is deeply stung by his words, by the truth she hears in them, though she isn’t going to let him know it.
“Fine. I will have to be there. You don’t talk to her alone. She’s been through a horrible trauma and she’s barely holding herself together.”
“What trauma, Ford? Exactly.”
“Over the summer, her father, Sir Damien Carr, committed suicide. When her mother discovered him, she shot herself. Ash found the two of them while her mother was still alive, barely. She died in her arms. It’s been terribly hard for her, as you can imagine. Now this...”
A hard, pitiless edge flashes in the sheriff’s eyes. He has cop eyes. Dead eyes. Ford shivers internally—this is why she and Tony can’t be together. There is something cold at his core. He has a mean streak. It felt dangerously fun in the beginning, but she quickly realized he can’t turn it off. It’s his coping mechanism for all the horrors he’s seen, or so he says. She knows exactly what he’s thinking—Ash has been connected to three deaths in two months.
Four, really, there’s been another death, but Muriel Grassley doesn’t count. Ash had nothing to do with that accident.
Still, maybe she should call Alan. Or even her mother.
At the very thought of Jude phoning her relentlessly tonight from her command post at the house, the kitchen table scattered, no doubt, with crystal glasses and empty bottles, Ford’s spine stiffens. No. She can handle Tony.
“I will shut this down the moment I feel it’s becoming too much for her to handle. She has nothing to do with this, Tony.”
“Understood. And I’m sorry to hear about her folks. That’s tough. I’ll be delicate. Kate?” he calls, and his niece hurries to his side. “Let’s talk to her.”
Tony’s holster smacks against the doorframe as they go back into the room. The gun is big, wicked. Ford hates to see it in her school. It makes everything that happened tonight feel so irreversible.
Inside, Ash looks fragile and broken. She is slumped in the chair, tears running freely down her cheeks. When she sees them enter, she sits up and wipes her arm across her face.
Tony perches one butt cheek on the desk, and Ford grits her teeth to stop from snapping, That’s an antique, you moron, at him.
“Ash, I know this is hard. I also know your friend was trying to keep you from talking to me. Now that we’re alone, what would you like to tell me about this evening? You were tapped for a secret society?”
“I can’t talk about it.”
“Ash, I give you permission to discuss everything that happened tonight with the sheriff. Nothing said here will leave this room.” Ford smooths a hand over Ash’s arm. Within seconds, Ash is rubbing the spot. The poison ivy... Lord, don’t tell them about the poison ivy, he’ll have all our heads.
“There’s nothing to say.”
Thatta girl. Ford says aloud, “You can give us details about the night without divulging the secrets of the society.”
“All right. They came to my room, yelled at me for a while, then we went to another room, they yelled awhile longer, then they sent us back to bed. Nothing that had anything to do with Camille. Camille was gone before they came. She had a summons to the attics. I don’t know from whom.”
“Did you see anyone other than the girls from the tap while you were out of bed?”
“No. No one. We were... It was in a private place, and I’ll be honest, I have no idea where it was. Somewhere on campus, though.”
Ford interjects, “There are a number of abandoned outbuildings, old staff cottages. The societies like to sneak into them and have their meetings. It’s not sanctioned, per se, but we do keep them in repair so no one gets hurt.”
“All right. Ash, your shirt is torn. Did that happen during the tap?”
“No, sir. When I got back to the room, I took a shower and put on fresh clothes.”
“This isn’t what you wore for the tap?”
“No. I was...dirty. The room we were in was quite dusty.”
“Are the clothes you wore to the tap still in your room?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your friend said she was with you all night. Was she also in the shower with you?”
Ash blushes to the roots of her hair. “No, sir. She’d gone up to bed.”
“So, she wasn’t with you every moment of the night.”
“We were together all night. Just not for the ten minutes it took me to shower and change. Dr. Asolo came for me moments after I went to bed. And to answer your question again, no, she is not my girlfriend. Becca has been mentoring me. She’s been very kind.”
“Mentoring, how?”
“Today is a good example. I hadn’t shared my history with any of my mates, and it came out over breakfast. I was upset and ran away, into the forest. Becca came to make sure I was okay, to assure me this is a passing moment. To give me perspective. There’s nothing going on between us, not like you think.”
“All right. Fair enough. Tell me about your relationship with your roommate again.”
“We don’t get on wonderfully, but it’s fine. It was fine.”
“And you didn’t know anything about the abortion? She didn’t mention a thing?”
“No. But she wouldn’t have confided in me.”
“Well, Tony? Satisfied?”
“We’re going to have to take your shirt with us for analysis, Ash.”
“No!”
All three adults look surprised.
“It was a gift. It means a lot to me. I need to keep it.”
The sheriff stands. “Unfortunately, you can’t. We will follow you to your room where you can change in privacy, and then you can meet up with your friend. Just so you aren’t surprised, we may want to talk again. Get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
“Like that will happen,” Ash mutters.