What she found, p.11
What She Found, page 11
“Of course. I wasn’t trying—”
“I know, but I thought I’d better let you know; it’s bad enough I have to do it. I just want to be treated like a normal person.”
“Cassy, I’m not going to treat either of you differently. I won’t ever bring it up if you don’t. When I ask how you are, I really just mean it generally, okay?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.”
“It’s okay. We’re all stressed right now.”
“Have you been talking to anyone?”
I know she means our friends. “Liz a bit.”
“Did she tell you about the Escalade? What Ryan did?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m really feeling for her. She asked if the kids could have a play date after we go to the gym next week, and I hadn’t gotten back to her because I was trying to make up an excuse. I didn’t tell anyone this, but Ryan yanked Robin’s hair last time they were together. If I’m not there to watch, I don’t want the kids alone, you know?”
“I’m sorry to hear that happened to Robin. Is she okay?”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t want to see him again without me either.”
“Yeah, I understand. Umm, I was also talking to Wesley.”
“Really?”
“Connor gave him my number. He was asked to come in and give a written statement too, and I wanted you to know.”
“Hmm, so the three of us, then.”
“So far.”
“Okay, thanks for telling me. I should give Connor a call and make sure to keep him in the loop. Why has it always been on women to do that? You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with it anymore, taking messages for men, passing them along to others on their behalf. That’s a plus to being alone.”
That stings. She means well. Don’t say anything.
“Well, tell him I say hi.”
“I will. Tabbie, be careful, okay, and let me know if you get any more calls.”
“I will. Bye.”
I’m left alone in my dark apartment, in the middle of my empty living room, and I’m buzzing out of my skin.
Is it the loneliness I can’t stand? Or my own company? Is that why I want to call someone, anyone, to talk? Do I miss the connection, or do I use connection as a crutch for everything I lack? As something to fill the void…
I don’t have to wait long for connection. My cell phone rings, and this time, the caller’s I.D. is displayed clearly.
I guess it’s my turn.
Chapter Thirteen
Detective Donohue holds a file folder in his thick hands and leads me into a small, plain interrogation room. He sets the folder on the table and gestures to the chair. “Do you have a pen?”
I shake my head.
He takes one out of his pocket and sets it on the paper. “These always find a way of disappearing on me, so leave it on the table when you’re finished.”
I nod and grab it, waiting for him to leave, but he stands in the corner by the door, watching me.
“Just the facts,” he says. “What happened that night.” I nod and begin with writing about the knock at the door, but he interrupts. “Tabitha, I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
“I need you to answer me as honestly as possible.”
“I will.”
“Have you been covering for your friends? I ask because your friends haven’t been shy about providing me details from their perspective about that night, and I need you to do the same.”
Why would he think that?
“I am.” I frown. “I have.”
He pulls the chair from across the table out and sits, crossing his ankle over his knee. The fluorescent light glints off his scalp. “I want you to know, we don’t think you had any involvement in this, no matter what’s been relayed to us.”
I frown. “What have they told you?”
He scratches his neck by his Adam’s apple, “You know I can’t divulge information about this case, but I can tell you they’ve implied some things about you.”
“Who has?”
He shrugs. “You told me Wesley was the last to see Karina, but he told me he thought you were still up with her.”
“But I told him that wasn’t what happened.”
“He also told me you two had some physical interaction.”
I didn’t think it was a big deal to let me know, but now I’m glad Wesley told me. This detective’s trying to pit us against each other.
I sit back in the chair and fold my arms over my chest. “We did.”
“But you’d just met him that day?”
“I did.”
He purses his lips. “Okay, well you didn’t tell me that originally.”
“You asked me to give my statement about Karina, and I did.”
“That’s why we have to have this talk before you give your written statement. You can’t leave things like that out. Anything you remember, anything you saw or heard. It has to be written down.”
“Okay, I will.”
“They all told me you were pretty drunk that night.”
“We all were, except for Wesley, and probably Cassy.”
“So Matt was.”
“Well, yes.”
“And he drove his car to Karina’s to try to charge the battery.”
I can’t lie by omission anymore. “He did, but it was later on, after he’d walked there the first time, and the effects had probably worn off some.”
“Things like that, Tabbie. You don’t want to get anyone in trouble, I get it, but this is about finding an injured and missing woman who could be in a lot of danger. Isn’t that more important?”
More important than protecting my friends?
“Yes.”
No.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, of course I am.”
“But you didn’t find her circumstance as serious that night. You didn’t stay with her or look for her, even though you wanted to.”
I clench my jaw and shake my head, shrugging my shoulders. “I admitted that. What more can I say?”
He nods. “I’m taking written statements that are admissible in court, Tabitha. Should any more evidence be produced, and charges be brought, this holds up.”
Any more evidence. They’re already suspecting us all, just like Wesley said they would be, and calling it evidence.
“Charges?” I ask as I break out into a cold sweat.
“I’m not accusing you of anything. I just need more pieces of the puzzle to put it together, and we can’t afford to forget any. No omissions.”
I pull my chair closer to the table and grab the pen. The sooner I write it all down, the sooner I’m away from his poking and judgement. Whatever they think they have on us or know about us has nothing to do with Karina.
Once they have the facts, they’ll have to see that.
“Do you have any theories?” he asks. I blink up at him. He wants to get me talking. He thinks I’ve got something to spill, but I just want to get to the facts. “You must’ve thought about it.”
Keep it short. “I think whoever she called might have come to get her, and something happened from there.”
“Mmm. Cassy seems to think it was a ruse to steal the Hunt’s items.”
“She told me that.”
“Do you think that’s what happened?”
“I don’t know. I think Karina was hurt. A head injury could make someone act in strange ways. I think we all made a mistake by leaving her alone.”
“Why do you think someone came to get her?”
“Cassy and Wesley both heard her try to call someone to come and help. That’s all Karina seemed to want, and it’s the last thing Wesley saw. She was on the phone on the porch.”
“Okay, I’ll give you some time to write your statement. We’ve been working ‘round the clock on this case because cases like these are usually time-sensitive. If Karina is in danger, we want to help her as soon as possible, and the more we know, the better we can do our jobs.”
I nod and begin writing again. The detective leaves the room, and there’s space and air in here again without his large, overbearing presence.
I start at the beginning. I write about the fact that we’d all been drinking except for Wesley. That it was raining hard and we were all inside, in the kitchen. The knock on the door and the way Karina looked when she arrived and about what time she got there. I write about Cassy trying to help, and the way Karina reacted to her. How Arland and Wesley volunteered to help with the car, but Matt had the most experience, so he went.
I write about Karina’s need to charge her phone. About Liz and Arland fighting over doubts of his love for her and their adopted son. About how Karina interjected, and how after that, she seemed more aware and in control.
I write about Wesley bringing me outside and what we talked about, or the parts I remember. About Matt coming back with news of the flat tire and dead battery from the headlights being left on or the driver’s side door left slightly ajar. I write about Karina trying to have a drink, and Cassy going to get something for the pain. About my talk with Karina, or what I can remember, and how she wasn’t happy but said she’d found a way to be. About Cassy not having anything for her pain, and me bringing her back a tampon and pill bottle, only to find her gone.
I write about seeing Wesley after that, and our hook up in the powder room. How I saw a shadow move under the door, but no one was there when I stopped to check. How we split after that, and he told me he was going to help Matt. About feeling rejected and dizzy and sick, and about the decision I made to go to bed, and how I knew it was wrong. About revisiting the powder room alone, the voices I heard from the cellar, and going to bed knowing I should go check on Karina, try to find her, but then…
I saw Matt’s headlights coming back, and I thought he would do it. How I saw her lipstick marks on a glass with whiskey at the bottom the morning after, and how everyone had assumed someone else helped Karina or knew where she was.
I think it’s called the bystander effect, but I’m not sure if it applies if we weren’t all there, watching the same thing, and hoping someone else took action.
We weren’t all together the whole time. We were drunk. We made assumptions. Mistakes.
The detective enters the room again, and I tuck the papers in the folder and hand it to him.
He nods once. “Wait here, please.” He takes the folder and leaves the room, and I rack my brain trying to make sure I told him everything.
The phone calls. It happened more than a week later, but I have to tell him.
He opens the door and closes it, and I speak before he’s facing me. “I got a call two nights ago.” He turns and walks slowly to the chair as I continue, “I was babysitting Matt and Cassy’s twins that night while they were here, giving their statements, and an unknown number called. They didn’t speak at first, but then they knew my name, and no one knew I was there, and they asked me, they said ‘where is she?’”
He rests his arm on the back of the chair and leans against it. “While you were at Matt and Cassy’s? On their home phone?”
“Yes.”
“And were they asking for Cassy?”
“I think they were asking about Karina.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m paranoid, but they knew my name. Knew I was there, and Matt and Cassy didn’t tell anyone, and neither did I, so they must have seen me—been watching me.”
“Or they recognized your voice.”
Why haven’t I thought of that?”
“Right,” I say slowly, “but it creeped me out, and I thought I should tell you.”
“Did you tell anyone else?”
“I told Cassy, Liz, and Wesley.”
“So, you’ve been in contact with Wesley?”
“Just at Liz and Arland’s, and he called me tonight.”
“Did he tell you he gave a written statement?”
I swallow hard. Just the facts. “Yes.”
He nods but continues to stare, still waiting for me to spill some secret. To convince him I’m innocent. I haven’t done anything wrong. None of us have.
“So did Cassy,” I add. “It’s why I babysat that night. I didn’t think we weren’t supposed to talk to each other about this. My friends are good people, Detective. None of us did anything malicious. They wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. I made some mistakes; I should have looked for her…”
He’s still staring at me, and I’m rambling.
“Tabitha, Matt and Cassy gave their written statements the afternoon I questioned you, not at night.”
“What? No, that’s not right.”
“Matt and Cassy took me to the spot where Karina’s car was left in the ditch. This was right after the K-9 unit was at Liz and Arland Hunt’s. Matt was the only one who could tell me where the car was in proximity to the rental house.”
Why would they lie to me about that? Why would Cassy make me think they had theories to go off of? Where were they if they weren’t here?
“Would you like some water?” he asks.
I shake my head and rub my palms on my jeans. “I’m just confused.”
“Everybody looks out for themselves, Tabitha. No matter how close, or how much history. You’ll find, in the end, everybody looks out for themselves, save for their children—usually. That’s why I wanted you to tell me everything you know. I don’t want you to be taken advantage of, used as a scapegoat, or for any of that to interfere with my investigation. If someone calls you again, an unknown number, you answer it and then call me directly and let me know what was said. Do you understand?”
I nod.
“And whether it’s a stranger you just met, like Wesley, or your friends you’ve known for years, you can’t trust them to have your best interests at heart.”
Now he’s sounding like Karina. But he doesn’t know my friends. He doesn’t know about the pact we made.
But he knows something he’s not saying.
“Detective, what do you think is going on here?”
“Everybody’s eager to point the finger at someone else, and we haven’t ruled anything out, but some of you are lying, and we know it. Simple as that. Obstruction of justice isn’t a game to be played with me.”
Is he trying to scare me? Still just trying to pit us all against each other? Is he the one who’s lying, or is it all true? Have my friends lied about what happened that night… about each other… about me?
I break the uncomfortable eye contact and shake my head. “I’m not playing games. I want to know the truth.”
“Well, no one wants the truth more than Karina’s mother and co-workers, who are all worried sick over someone they care deeply about.”
I stare off, the weight of guilt upon me again for not considering them and how worried they must feel. Were they already wary of the complicated relationship she was in, or did they even know about him at all? Did they know she was on her way to meet up with him that night? Did they think she was single, alone, and vulnerable?
That’s what Reese thinks about me.
I imagine the detective calling Reese in and telling him I’d been in an accident. That I was missing. It would kill him, and I lie so much to him about how I am, or where I am. He wouldn’t have enough real knowledge to go off of. Karina’s loved ones might not either.
“Have you found the man she was seeing?” I ask.
“I can’t discuss that.”
Maybe that means yes. “Is there any other way I can help?”
“You can make sure to tell me the truth. Anything that happens. Anything your friends confide in you. I need to know.”
I nod. “I will.” I’d want someone to do it for me. For Reese.
“I’ll be in touch,” the detective says, opening the door for me. “You keep this confidential.”
I nod as I leave with another copy of his business card.
Are my friends so willing to throw me under the bus? Did they tell him I could have forgotten, that I might have been too drunk to remember the last events of the night?
I wasn’t there for Karina, but none of them were either—not even Matt after he came back. He could have asked me where she was. We all had a part to play, and blaming each other will get us nowhere. If they truly blame me, how can I get past that?
And what if something happened that night to Karina, and one of them knows more than they’re saying?
How do I know who’s telling the truth?
The fresh, night air hits me as I push through the front doors of the police station, and I can breathe once more. I get to my car and sit, relieving the pressure from my shaky legs.
If my friends are lying, I need to know why.
The notepad.
Don’t stop until you find it.
I don’t know what it means, but it’s a command—a summons—and I won’t stop until I know what happened that night.
Chapter Fourteen
When I got home last night, I wrote my own statement of events spanning the day of Karina’s accident, leading up to the present. I laid out all the facts and tried to make some sense out of it, but kept returning to what Donohue said. That my friends insinuated I knew more than I let on but had forgotten. Maybe they were trying to protect me, like I was with Matt about his drunk driving that night.
I could see how most, if not all of us, would seem suspicious, and when I lay the facts out, they’re all over the place with gaps of unaccounted time or second-hand accounts. I don’t remember everything about that night, and I’m sure we’ve all filled in some blanks on our own.
Karina said trust no one.
Donohue said trust no one.
But I’m not willing to give up on my friends.
I made a lunch date with Cassy and Liz today, and they were both shocked but happy I seem to be coming out of my depression. Cassy will arrive first. She’s always early, so I will be too, and I’ll ask her about the other night. I have to give her a chance to tell me the truth. Was she giving a statement with Matt that night, or were they somewhere else?
If they can be straight with me about what they told the detective, and what’s actually going on with them, I’ll tell them what I’ve been up to with the timeline I made last night and the meeting I have this afternoon.
