She turned her eyes to him and he held her stare, hard as it was.
‘You know we didn’t,’ he said. ‘It’s a fantasy. Maybe she believes it. Maybe it’s easier for her to dream up a story than it is to face the truth.’
‘Maybe,’ Mitchell said. ‘But I have to investigate all possibilities. Whether you like it or not.’
‘I got nothing to hide,’ Whiteside said.
‘I’m sure. I’ll have Special Agent Abrahms send that video to the behavioral analyst at the Phoenix field office. We’ll know soon whether or not she’s lying. And I’ll have my team search the back of Collins’ cruiser. If there’s no truth to Audra Kinney’s allegations – well then, you have nothing to worry about. Do you?’
‘No,’ Whiteside said. ‘I don’t.’
Mitchell smiled, nodded, and opened the door. She stepped into the station, let the door swing closed.
Whiteside put a hand against the wall to stop himself from falling.
15
AUDRA WOULD HAVE screamed if she’d had the voice for it. Every time she tried to shout, it turned into a squeak and whisper in her throat. She paced the cell, willing herself not to bang her head on the bars. A coiled spring strained at the middle of her chest. Panic lurked at the edge of everything, threatening to swoop in and take her control away. So she focused on the anger. Anger was more use to her now than fear.
No one would listen. No one. As though what she said meant nothing to them. She had felt certain when Mitchell walked into the interview room that this woman would at least consider there might be truth in her words. But no, Mitchell was just another cop in a suit, unable or unwilling to look past what Whiteside had put in front of her.
By the clock on the wall, forty-five minutes passed before Mitchell entered carrying a Styrofoam container in one hand, a plastic bag in the other, and a large paper sack tucked under her arm. Audra kept pacing as Mitchell approached the cell.
‘Have you eaten since yesterday?’ Mitchell asked.
As if woken by the words, Audra’s stomach let out a long, deep growl. She stopped walking, wrapped her arms around her belly.
‘I guess not,’ Mitchell said. ‘I got this from the diner down the street. It smells pretty good.’
She placed the container on the desk by the door, a napkin and a plastic fork beside it, along with the paper sack.
‘First, though, I want those clothes. I went over to the Goodwill store and got some things. I had to guess your size, but they should do for now. They didn’t have any underwear, so I put in some things of mine.’
Mitchell unlocked the cell door, slid it aside, and tossed the bag of clothes across the floor to land at Audra’s feet. Audra stayed put, didn’t reach for it.
‘I need your clothes,’ Mitchell said. ‘I don’t want to have to get some of those state cops in here to strip you by force. The camera’s off, and I’ll turn my back.’
She turned away and Audra opened the bag, pulled out a shirt, a pair of jeans. She found a sports bra that looked like it would fit well enough, two pairs of panties, and a single pair of socks. As quickly as she could, she stripped and dressed again.
She brought her clothes to Mitchell, who bundled them into the clear bag and left them on the desk. Mitchell lifted the polystyrene container, the fork, and the napkin, and brought them back to the cell. Audra kept her hands by her sides.
‘Come on,’ Mitchell said. ‘You need to eat.’
Audra stepped closer and took the box from Mitchell’s hand. She opened it and the aroma of beef and tomato and rice swamped her senses. Her stomach growled again, and her mouth filled with saliva.
‘Chili,’ Mitchell said. ‘Strange, isn’t it? The hotter the place, the hotter the food. You’d think people would want to cool down.’
Audra retreated to the bunk, sat down, dug in with the plastic fork. She couldn’t help but give a moan of pleasure as she chewed.
‘I got you this too,’ Mitchell said, taking a plastic bottle of Coke from her jacket pocket. ‘Can I come in?’
Audra nodded as she swallowed, as if she had any control over who came and went from between these bars. Mitchell indicated the camera in the corner.
‘We’re not being watched,’ she said. ‘But I know you won’t try anything stupid.’
‘They turned it off last night,’ Audra said.
Mitchell crossed the cell, placed the bottle of Coke on the bunk, sat down beside Audra.
‘Turned it off?’
‘Whiteside and Collins,’ Audra said. ‘They came in here during the night and put a gun to my head. Whiteside pulled the trigger. I thought I was going to die.’
‘That’s a serious accusation,’ Mitchell said.
‘A serious accusation,’ Audra echoed. ‘More serious than taking my children, or less?’
Mitchell leaned in. ‘Audra, you have to realize the position you’re in. Sheriff Whiteside and Deputy Collins have years of public service between them, unquestionable records. Sheriff Whiteside is a war hero, for God’s sake. He served in the first Gulf War, got medals and everything. You’re a former addict running from Children’s Services. How much do you think your word means against theirs?’
The meat and rice in Audra’s mouth lost their flavor, turned to ash on her tongue. She dropped the fork into the box, wiped her mouth with the napkin.
‘Here,’ she said, pushing the food back at Mitchell.
The agent took them. ‘Audra, I want to help you. Don’t pull away from me.’
‘Can I make a phone call?’
‘Whatever you’ve seen on TV, you don’t have an automatic right to—’
‘Can I make a phone call?’
Mitchell closed her eyes, opened them again, and stood up. ‘All right.’
She reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved a smartphone, entered a code to unlock it.
‘You’re aware there’s about a dozen cops on the other side of that door who want to tear you to pieces, right?’
‘Yes,’ Audra said.
‘Well, then,’ Mitchell said. ‘Act accordingly.’
Audra stood, walked to the far side of the cell, and tapped out the only number she could think of. A few moments of silence, then the purr of the tone, before a woman’s voice answered.
‘Hello?’
Audra opened her mouth, found it empty. She listened to the hiss and whine of the signal travelling all the way from California. I should be there now, she thought. Me and Sean and Louise, out there by the sea. Not trapped here, not like this.
‘Hello? Who’s calling, please? If this is a reporter, I don’t want to—’
‘Mel?’
Silence for a moment, then, ‘Audra? Is that you?’
‘Yeah, it’s me. It’s good to hear your voice.’
‘Audra, what’s happening?’
‘I need help.’
‘Do the police know you’re calling me? Are you calling from jail?’
‘Yeah.’ She forced a smile into her voice. ‘I know, it’s crazy, isn’t it? Me in jail. Mel, can you help me?’
‘Jesus, the press have been calling me nonstop since this morning, asking about you. I only picked up the phone because I was expecting Suzie’s school to call. What do you want?’
‘I want help. Mel, I’m in trouble. Whatever you saw on the TV, I didn’t do it. The sheriff, he’s trying to set me up. Him and his deputy, they have my children. I think if I could get someone, like a private investigator, he could do something. If I had the money to pay him, I could hire one. But I don’t have any. I’ve got nobody else to turn to. Mel, can you help me?’
Audra listened to her friend breathe, in and out, in and out. Mitchell watched, her face blank.
‘You want money,’ Mel said.
‘Yes,’ Audra said. ‘Can you help me?’
‘I’m sorry I ever met you,’ Mel said. ‘Don’t call me again.’
A click, then a series of beeps.
Audra stared at the phone. She wanted to smash it against the wall. She wanted to beat herself around the face with it. Instead she swallowed her anger, did not allow its destructive energy out into the world. She had done that too many times before and it never solved anything. She gripped the phone tightly between her hands and forced herself to think.