Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

RILEY IS SITTING listlessly with Evan at a picnic table in the little park in the centre of town after their visit to Mrs Brewer. It's Saturday afternoon, cold but sunny. It was awful seeing Diana's mother that way. Her daughter's death has broken her, and Riley could hardly bear to look at her. She'd spent a lot of time at the Brewers' house over the years – at playdates when they were children, and for sleepovers all through high school – and now she thinks of how empty that house will be. Her heart breaks for Mrs Brewer. She has nothing left.

Riley feels tears building again and looks away from Evan, at the swings. She thinks anxiously about what Diana's mother told them – what her neighbour saw the night Diana was killed. Eventually she turns to Evan and asks, ‘Do you think it was Cameron sitting outside the house in his truck that night?' She felt he'd been lying to her.

‘But Mrs Brewer said Joe Prior has a truck too,' Evan says. ‘And the police think his alibi is weak. It could have been him.'

‘So it could have been either one of them,' she says. ‘Or anybody else.' After a minute she adds bitterly, ‘You know what makes me mad? That the neighbour didn't call the police. Maybe if she had, Diana would still be alive. I'm with Mrs Brewer on that one.'

They fall silent again, sitting dismally at the picnic table. Then Evan says, ‘I've been thinking. I'd like to put up a memorial, maybe a simple white wooden cross, at the side of the field where she was found. My dad should have supplies at home.'

Riley nods. ‘That's a nice idea. I'll help you.'

Riley accompanies Evan back to his house, and he takes her into his dad's unused work shed in the backyard. There's all kinds of tools and scraps of wood in there. Evan soon finds a couple of pieces that will work. He grabs a hammer and some nails and constructs a simple cross, about five feet high, two across.

‘I think we've got some white paint left over around here somewhere,' Evan says, studying his handiwork. ‘Maybe we should put it up first and paint it when it's standing in the ground, it'll be easier. And then we won't have to wait for it to dry before we put it up. I'll just ask my mom if I can use her car, 'kay?'

He leaves her there in the shed while he goes inside. It's cold, but she's not offended that he didn't invite her into the house. It's Saturday afternoon and she knows Evan's dad is probably far into the booze by now. He doesn't talk about it much, but she knows how much it bothers Evan. She looks down at the cross lying on the floor. She can't believe that on Thursday evening Diana was alive, and not even two days later, Riley is here in Evan's shed, staring at this cross. For a moment she feels dizzy, as if the world has spun too fast, and she can't keep up.

Evan returns, with permission to use the car, and they load the cross, angling it between the front seats. Evan puts an old can of white paint, a paintbrush, and a screwdriver and hammer to open the paint can with into the spacious trunk of his mother's car. He throws in a plastic bag to put the dirty brush and paint can in when they're done, and a spade.

Riley climbs into the car with a heavy heart. As Evan drives them through the little town, she makes him stop at the florist. It's the same florist they went to earlier that day for Mrs Brewer's flowers. It's the only one in town. ‘We should get some flowers for her,' she says. She leaves him in the car and runs into the shop. She chooses two small bouquets – one of white lilies and another of pink gerbera daisies. She returns to the car. ‘I got one from each of us.'

Riley feels an increasing sense of disquiet as Evan takes the rural roads that will lead them to the field. She hasn't seen it yet, except in photographs, but everyone knows where Diana was found. They know where the Resslers' farm is.

As Evan drives down the gravel road toward the farm, they spot traces of yellow police tape flapping in the breeze along the fence line. He stops the car at the side of the road, and they slowly get out. They stand together, side by side at the entrance to the field, staring out at it. Riley recognizes the open green gate from the photos she saw in the news, but the white tent that stood over Diana's dead body is now gone, so they don't know exactly where she was found. Riley feels an involuntary shudder, something animal and instinctual. She imagines it, some murderer – probably the man sitting outside Diana's house in his truck – carrying her friend across this field in the dark, probably already dead. She can see it all too clearly, everything except the killer's face. She forces herself to stop.

She watches Evan put up the cross between the edge of the road and the wooden fence, next to the entrance to the field. They can't put it up in the field because it's private property, and it's farmed. When the cross is sturdily in place, Riley silently takes the paintbrush from Evan. She paints the cross reverently, tenderly, in long strokes, almost as if she's touching Diana, brushing out her long hair. When she is finished, Riley lays the two bouquets of flowers gently at the base of it. She whispers, ‘I miss you so much, Diana,' wiping away tears.

Evan takes her hand in his and adds, ‘They'll find out who did this to you, Diana. I promise.'

I watch them, Riley and Evan, putting up the cross, painting it a fresh white. It stands out so sharply against the natural background. Riley and Evan – I would trust them with my life.

I'm afraid, though, that I was wrong to trust Cameron. Cameron might have put me here, floating on the fringes, in this sort of half life, watching people who love me grieve. I'm grieving too, for all I've lost.

So much is missing … whole chunks of my memory gone. I hope they find out who did this to me, because I'm not sure I'll ever remember on my own.

Edward is notified by text when Cameron's attorney finally arrives at the police station on Saturday afternoon.

‘He's here,' he says to his wife and son, who have been sitting in this interview room for what feels like a lifetime, while they waited for the attorney. ‘I'll go talk to him,' Edward says, standing up.

‘I'll come too,' Shelby says.

‘What about me?' Cameron asks.

‘You stay here, we'll talk to him first,' Edward says.

Edward and Shelby leave the room and seek out the lawyer in the waiting area. He's a man in his late forties named Steven Hanlan, and he has a confident, all-business air about him. He's one of the top criminal attorneys in Burlington, and as soon as he lays eyes on him, Edward feels a little better. They no longer have to manage this on their own.

‘Let's find someplace private to talk,' the attorney says, hefting his briefcase and leading them to a quieter area with some empty chairs, where they won't be overheard. He speaks in a low voice. ‘What's the situation?'

Edward brings him up to speed. ‘I know it looks bad,' Edward concedes, when he's finished. ‘But there's no way he did this. He's a good kid. And he loved her.' But he knows that women are often killed by men who love them. He glances at Shelby, who doesn't seem to have recovered from the shock of the police interview and is very quiet.

‘I'm not going to ask if he did it or not,' the attorney says. ‘My job is to defend him, and I will do that to the best of my ability.' He stands up and says, ‘Let me talk to him alone.' Edward tells him where to find Cameron, and he sets off down the hall.

Once he's gone, Shelby begins to cry. He takes her in his arms. She whispers, ‘Edward, I'm scared. What was he doing over there?'

Edward pulls back and looks at her. They have to get through this, somehow. ‘I don't know.'

They sit in miserable silence until they are asked by Detective Stone to join them again in the interview room.

They all settle in to continue the interview, this time with the attorney present, and Stone makes the introductions for the tape. Then he takes up where they left off. ‘Cameron, what did you do when you got out of the truck?'

Edward watches in fear, his heart in his throat. He's never been so frightened in his life. Not even when Cameron was born, the umbilical cord wound twice around his neck, an Apgar score of zero.

‘I lied, before.'

Edward's heart jumps.

Cameron seems to prepare himself. He begins to speak in a monotone. ‘When I was sitting in the truck, I texted Diana several times that I wanted to talk, but she didn't answer.' He glances at the attorney, who nods at him. Cameron pulls his phone out of his pocket. ‘Here, I can show you.'

Edward wishes he could see those texts. Perhaps he should have asked his son to let him see his phone earlier, but it hadn't occurred to him.

Stone and Godfrey silently study the texts on the phone and then Stone puts the phone back down on the table, close to him. ‘Okay, then what?' he presses.

‘I didn't know what to do. I thought she was still mad and ignoring me, or that maybe she'd turned off her notifications. The light was still on in the living room.' Then he stares down at the table and speaks in a rush. ‘I didn't want to leave things the way they were, so I – I got out of the truck and knocked on her front door. I knocked a few times, but she didn't answer.'

‘And then?' Stone asks.

Edward is desperate to hear Cameron say, I got back in the truck and went home . The attorney looks concerned and puts a hand on Cameron's forearm, shaking his head at him.

But Cameron ignores him and continues, ‘I went around to the back of the house.' He swallows nervously. ‘Her bedroom's in the back. The light was on in her room. I called her name a few times. I even threw some dirt at her window, thinking that would get her attention. But she didn't answer. I figured she was still mad and ignoring me. Then I went back to the truck and drove around for a while and went home.'

‘Is that right?' Detective Stone says flatly.

Edward can tell the detective doesn't believe him. He can't bring himself to look at his wife.

‘I know it looks bad,' Cameron says in a rush, ‘but I didn't kill her! I should have told you everything right from the beginning, I know that. But now I'm wondering – what if she was already dead? What if somebody killed her after I dropped her off at eleven? Before I came back? And that's why she didn't answer? Because I think she would have answered me if she could. Even if she'd turned her phone off, she would have heard me knocking at the door, or calling at her window.'

Stone looks unconvinced. He says, ‘We think the killer accessed the house from the backyard. We found impressions in the grass there.'

Edward sees Cameron shaking his head, agitated. Cameron finally glances at his attorney, who doesn't look happy at all. Edward feels queasy.

Cameron says, ‘I didn't go in the house, I swear!'