Chapter Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

brENDA IS SITTING in her kitchen with her ex-husband, Lee. This whole day has unravelled like a dirty bandage off a wound, revealing unspeakable horror. Every time she thinks of Diana's last moments, she feels a breathless panic as if she, too, will die. But she's still here. Stuck in this awful purgatory, reliving her daughter's death over and over again. She can't wipe it from her mind. What has she done to deserve this? What had her daughter ever done to deserve this? Her life taken from her, before it had hardly begun. How terrified Diana must have been when she realized what was happening. Brenda feels like she's trapped in that moment, with her daughter, feeling her terror. She grips the edge of the kitchen table, tries to breathe through the panic, the crushing pain in her chest.

As she calms, Brenda knows that her life is over now too. Because there's nothing left for her. How will she go on? Diana was her everything. She stares at her ex-husband, slumped in front of her looking down at the kitchen table, not able to meet her eyes. He will at least have someone to go back to. He has two more children, and they will be all the more precious to him now. She remembers how close he was to Diana when she was little, how neglectful of her he'd been these last few years. He hardly knew her, the wonderful young woman she'd become. She wonders if he now regrets that he didn't spend more time with his only daughter while he could. She had wanted him here, but now she almost wishes he would leave.

They sit there together, not talking. The doorbell rings, and they ignore it, letting neighbours leave their dishes of food on the front step unacknowledged. They can't face people, and they certainly can't eat. Why does anyone think that food is the answer to grief? There is no answer to grief.

There are reporters out there too. She doesn't want to talk to them either. Brenda hears the ping of a text from her phone, on the kitchen table next to her. She glances at it. It's Detective Stone. Please let us in. We're outside.

‘It's the detectives,' she tells her ex, and gets up to answer the door. She doesn't hurry, because what does it matter? Nothing matters. Nothing will bring Diana back. Her movements are slow and heavy, like she's walking underwater. She would normally have slept after her long night shift, but there was no possibility of sleep today. She's made Lee call and tell them she will be off work indefinitely.

She opens the door. The two detectives she'd met that morning, Stone and Godfrey, are there. ‘Can we come in?' Stone asks.

She glances past his shoulder at the crowd gathered on the street. She can see the news vans, the reporters, and the cameramen, but they are standing there quietly, even respectfully. She steps back and lets the detectives in, closing the door quickly. Lee comes out of the kitchen, his face vacant. The detectives introduce themselves to him, and they end up sitting in the living room. Brenda had already told them earlier that morning that her ex-husband had virtually nothing to do with his daughter, had no idea what was going on in her life, that he would be no help. They ask him a few questions anyway, which only confirm how little involvement he'd had with his daughter in the last few years. He has the grace to look ashamed.

Detective Stone still looks fresh and collected, Brenda marvels, observing him. His partner is the same. Of course, this is just a job to them. She wonders how much they actually care. They don't even live around here. This is such a small community, they've had to bring in a team from elsewhere to try to solve her daughter's murder. Maybe that's a good thing, she thinks suddenly. Maybe someone from Fairhill did it.

Stone begins in his quiet voice, ‘You said this morning that you weren't aware of any problems between your daughter and her boyfriend, Cameron Farrell.' He pauses. ‘We've heard otherwise.'

She looks at him more sharply, nudged out of her stupor. ‘What?'

‘Riley Mead came to the station with her mother, Patricia, and told us that Cameron was pressuring Diana to agree to go to the same college together next year. Riley said that Diana didn't want to, and that she was going to break up with him.'

Brenda swallows. ‘Diana didn't tell me that.' She takes a deep breath. ‘If Riley told you then it must be true.' She glances at Lee, beside her, but he's looking at the floor. He has nothing to contribute.

‘Did you ever see anything in Cameron's behaviour that made you worry for your daughter's safety?' Stone asks. ‘Does he have a temper?'

She shakes her head slowly. ‘Not that I ever saw. But he was a bit clingy. Do you think Cameron might have done this?' she asks uneasily.

‘We're not ruling anyone out at this time.'

‘Oh God,' Brenda murmurs, considering this, covering her mouth with her hand. She hears her ex-husband make a strangled sound beside her, but he doesn't speak.

Detective Stone gives them a moment and says, ‘We haven't found any unexplained fingerprints in the house, but any intruder could have worn gloves. We did find some impressions in the grass behind the house. Not enough to get a footprint, unfortunately. There were no obvious signs of a break-in.' He adds carefully, ‘Someone might have been watching her. He might have known she was alone in the house when you left for work.'

Brenda's blood chills. The idea sickens her; she can taste the bile rising in the back of her throat.

‘Let's assume for a minute that Cameron left Diana back inside the house at around eleven, as he says. We know of no reason for her to have left the house again voluntarily after that, and her jacket and sneakers are in the house. But maybe she answered the door. Maybe someone came in through an unlocked door or window. Maybe someone was already waiting for her inside when she got home last night and took her from the house.' He adds, ‘As we mentioned to you earlier, it probably wasn't random. It wasn't opportunistic.'

Brenda can hardly take all this in; she feels numb, disoriented.

‘The Home Depot customer came forward,' Stone says. ‘His name is Joe Prior.'

She looks sharply at him, snapped to attention.

‘He says he didn't do it, of course,' Stone says. ‘And his alibi checks out, although we consider it a weak one. He claims a friend was over at his place, drinking all night. They could both be lying. We've looked into him, but he doesn't have a criminal record and everything he said checked out.'

She regards him wearily. She glances once more at Lee; he seems almost catatonic.

‘There's something else,' Stone continues. ‘We've had officers going door to door, looking for witnesses, to see if anyone saw anything last night, or anything unusual over the past while.'

‘And?'

‘The neighbour across from you, Helen Payne, said she noticed a truck sitting outside your house last night at around midnight. She'd come back from sitting with a friend at the hospice. She couldn't tell us any more than that it was a truck – a pickup. Its lights were off, but she said someone – a man – was sitting in the driver's seat. She said it was too dark to tell any more than that, and she didn't pay much attention, as she was thinking about her friend. She said she's never noticed a truck sitting outside your place at that hour before, and she often comes back from the hospice at that time. Anyway, she went to bed, so that's all we know.' He adds, ‘But she did say it looked like your daughter's boyfriend's truck, which she sees around a lot.'

‘Everybody around here drives a truck,' Brenda says bleakly.

Stone nods. ‘Including Cameron Farrell and Joe Prior.' He rises to leave, and Godfrey gets up as well. ‘We'll be in touch tomorrow,' he says. ‘Again, I'm so sorry for your loss.'