Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE NEXT MORNING is Saturday, and Cameron lies in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He can hear his mother downstairs moving around in the kitchen. It sounds the same as every Saturday morning, but he knows that now everything is different. He realizes that he's hungry. He hasn't eaten much at all since yesterday morning, when the police interrupted his breakfast. He gets up and pulls on jeans and a sweatshirt. He doesn't bother with a shower. He doesn't care. He goes downstairs and enters the kitchen.

His mother turns at the sound of him, as if she's surprised to see him. She smiles. ‘Cameron, honey,' she says, ‘what can I get you for breakfast?'

‘I'll get it,' he says, and grabs a bowl and cereal, takes the milk out of the fridge. He can't stand her false cheerfulness; it sets him on edge. She hovers, and he feels as if she's smothering him. He can feel her eyes on him, watching him, worrying about him, and he doesn't like it. He glances at the clock on the stove: 10:14. He slept in. ‘Where's Dad?'

‘Upstairs.'

The landline in the kitchen rings and his mother jumps. Cameron feels a jolt of fear surge through him. His mother stares at the phone, not moving, while it rings again. She's closest to it. ‘Aren't you going to get that?' he asks, his voice tense.

She answers the phone and listens. She turns to look at him, and he knows.

‘Yes, he's here.' She goes still. ‘Yes. We'll be there soon.' She hangs up the phone and addresses him. ‘They want to talk to you again. We have to go to the police station.'

Oh God, someone saw me . They must know he was at Diana's the night before last, after eleven, and he told them he wasn't. He tries to rise out of his chair, but his strength has left him.

‘I'll get your father.'

A half-hour later, Cameron and his parents arrive at the Fairhill Police Station. His mother had insisted he finish his cereal before they left, but he could hardly get it down. His father walks beside him with his hand on his shoulder, as if silently saying, I'm here for you. Cameron is grateful, but it isn't going to be much help. His father can't save him. They'd had a hurried, whispered conversation that his mother doesn't know about before they left the house.

What if someone saw me?

Then just tell them the truth, and you'll be fine , his dad said.

‘In here,' Detective Stone says, opening the door to the interview room. It's the same room they were in yesterday. ‘Just to remind you,' Stone says, ‘you're here voluntarily. You can leave at any time.'

Cameron nods nervously. It's the same as before – Detectives Stone and Godfrey on one side of the table, and Cameron flanked by his anxious parents on the other. He wishes his mother wasn't here, but he's afraid to ask her to leave. They start the tape.

‘So, Cameron, you told us yesterday that you dropped Diana off at her house and she went inside at about eleven p.m., correct?' Cameron nods. ‘Can you speak up for the tape?' Stone asks.

‘Yes.'

Stone nods along. ‘And then you went home.'

‘Yes.'

Stone looks him in the eyes and waits. Cameron's fear escalates. They know. The way the detective is looking at him – they must know. He feels himself begin to tremble. His dad is watching him, concerned.

‘Just relax, son,' Stone says. ‘We just want to clarify a couple of things.' The detective is being friendly, even kind.

Cameron swallows. ‘Okay.'

‘Were there any problems in your relationship with Diana? Any arguments? If so, best to tell us now.'

‘No,' Cameron says. It's a knee-jerk reaction. He remem bers, as soon as he says it, that Diana told Riley things, that Riley knew about the college thing. She must have spoken to the detectives, and that's why he's here. Riley has always been a gossip; she should stay out of other people's business, he thinks bitterly.

Edward Farrell watches his son tremble as he sits in the chair across from the detectives. Cameron's nervousness dismays him. He glances at Shelby, and she looks wary, even alarmed. What's going on here? The vibe is different than it was yesterday, even though the demeanour of the detectives has not changed. It's his son who's changed.

‘Are you sure, Cameron?' the detective says now, and waits. Cameron says nothing. The detective says, ‘Because we've heard otherwise.'

‘What?' Cameron says.

‘We've heard that you and Diana were having problems.'

Shelby butts in anxiously, leaning forward in her chair. ‘That's not true, is it, Cameron?'

The detective gives her a quelling glance, and she sits back again.

Cameron doesn't answer. Edward is worried. His son couldn't have had anything to do with Diana's death. But he knows he hasn't been telling them the whole truth, either. They just have to get past this.

‘I loved her,' Cameron says at last, stubbornly. ‘She loved me. We were perfect together.'

‘But you must have had disagreements,' the detective presses. ‘Everyone does.' When Cameron doesn't respond, Stone asks, ‘Did you argue with Diana about what colleges to go to?'

Cameron shakes his head and says, ‘No. It wasn't a big deal. I thought we should only apply to the same colleges, but she wanted to apply to some others too. Because they had better vet programmes.'

‘And how did you feel about that?'

‘I was okay with it,' Cameron says.

But Edward knows they had a furious argument about it that night – Cameron told him. Diana had broken up with him.

‘Her friend Riley told us she was thinking of breaking up with you,' Stone says.

‘That's not true!' Cameron protests. And then, impulsively, ‘Riley doesn't like me.'

‘I thought you were friends?' Detective Stone says.

‘We used to be. We all hung out together. But she didn't like it when Diana and I got together because Diana didn't have as much time for her. She was always trying to get between us.'

Detective Stone tilts his head. ‘She said you were possessive.'

‘She would. That's what I mean,' he says defensively. ‘She was trying to split us up. But Diana knew I loved her. That's what mattered.'

‘Okay. So you didn't argue last night?'

‘No. Like I said, we drove around for a while, then parked and had sex in the truck and then I took her home around eleven. Everything was fine. She went inside and I left.'

Edward watches his son nervously. He knows that what he's just said isn't true. He knows they argued. But he's the one who told Cameron to stick to his story.

Stone sits back in his chair and says, ‘The woman who lives across the street from the Brewers came home from visiting a friend in the hospice on Thursday night. She visits with her every night until about midnight, so she's very clear on the time. And when she got home on Thursday night, a little after midnight, she saw someone sitting in a truck outside of the Brewers' house. The truck exactly matches the description of your truck.'

Edward's stomach drops.

Cameron feels lightheaded, as if he's taken a hard hit on the football field. The detective is waiting for him to say something, but Cameron can't speak. He can feel that his face is flushed. He must look guilty as hell. He swallows, glances at his dad, who nods at him almost imperceptibly. He can't look at his mother.

‘Okay, yes, I was there,' he says to the detective, stumbling a little over the words. He pauses, wondering how much he should say. He thinks of what his father told him. He swallows again. ‘We did argue a bit. About the college thing. And after I dropped her at home at eleven, I did go home.' He pauses. ‘But then after a while I went back. To apologize to her, to make up. I parked outside her house and sat in the truck. But I never got up the nerve to go in and talk to her. I thought she might still be mad at me.' He hangs his head. ‘I stayed there, in the truck, for a while, till after midnight, then I left and drove around a bit more till around one in the morning, then I went home again.'

‘Why didn't you tell us this before?' Stone asks.

‘Because – I thought if you knew we'd argued, and that I was there, you might think—' He can't finish the sentence.

‘You should always tell us the truth,' Stone says firmly.

‘I'm telling the truth now,' Cameron says, feeling desperate.

Stone looks back at him, cocks his head to one side. ‘I don't think you are, Cameron.'

Cameron begins to tremble almost violently.

‘Look, detective,' his dad begins. But he doesn't get any further than that.

Stone interrupts him. ‘We know you got out of the truck, Cameron. What did you do when you got out of the truck?'

Edward watches his son and the detective in alarm. Oh God, what is going on here? This can't be happening. If Cameron says he didn't get out of the truck, then he didn't get out of the truck. He must believe that. Is the detective lying? Trying to trap him? But Edward knows his son has been lying all along. He must put a stop to this – now. ‘Hold on,' he says aggressively. ‘Are you accusing my son?'

‘We just want to establish the facts, Mr Farrell,' Stone says.

‘No,' Edward says firmly. ‘This is over. If you want to question my son any further, it will be with an attorney present.' He should have done this sooner, he thinks.

He sees a brief flicker of annoyance in the detective's eyes, followed by resignation. ‘I was just about to read him his rights anyway,' he says. ‘Godfrey, please proceed.'

Edward and his wife and son listen in utter dismay as Detective Godfrey reads Cameron his rights.

‘Is he under arrest?' Edward asks in disbelief. He feels like he can't breathe, like something very heavy is pressing on his chest.

‘No. But we want to question him further, and it's not voluntary any longer. Call your lawyer. We'll wait till they get here.'

Stone turns off the tape, and the two detectives exit the room. Edward catches his wife's shocked, drawn face and then turns to his son. ‘Cameron, don't say anything more. I'm going to get you the best criminal lawyer I can find.'

His fingers work busily on his cell phone, googling criminal lawyers in Vermont with the best reputations. He starts making calls while his wife and son sit there, frozen in fear. Neither of them utters a word.