*
I paced to the front door and back. I sat down and then stood again. During all of my nervous energy release, Diana sat still and quiet.
Finally, after what seemed like days but was more like minutes, Diana turned to me.
“Will you go with me to the police station? I need to talk to Mac.”
Relief flooded through me. I was thrilled that she was taking this so calmly and I was sure Mac could explain things. I hadn’t suggested it because I wasn’t sure how much Diana blamed Mac for Dylan’s arrest.
“Of course,” I said. “We’ll go now. I’m sure Mac can give us some more information.” I picked up my coat and shrugged it on, pulling my keys out of the pocket. “Sometimes he plays these things very close. Charla might not have all the facts.” I looked at Diana’s ashen face and decided that the quietly supportive approach might be better.
Diana put her coat on after I held it out to her. She followed me down the front steps, got in my Jeep, and buckled her seat belt. She stared straight ahead and didn’t speak for the whole ride to the police station.
We went inside and I approached Lisa Harkness. Her smile faded when she saw Diana up close. She nodded to my request that Diana and I wait in one of the interview rooms until Mac could see us. I saw her pick up the phone and whisper into it as we passed through the door separating the front desk from the rest of the police station.
I chose interview room one for its larger table and better chairs. We took off our coats and sat. Diana still hadn’t spoken.
I heard footsteps in the hall but they weren’t Mac’s. He has a very determined stride, but still limps a bit after a gunshot injury from when he worked narcotics in Saginaw. This person stopped, backed up, turned again, and finally approached the room, the steps slowing as they got closer. Tom Andrews peeked around the doorframe.
“Can I get you anything while you wait?” he asked.
I shook my head and looked to Diana. She was studying her lap and didn’t respond.
“Thanks, Tom, we’re fine.”
“Okay. Detective McKenzie is on his way.” Tom’s footsteps receded and we were left in silence once more.
I didn’t mind being quiet. In fact, I preferred it, but this was an unnatural quiet and I was getting concerned. I was about to try again to get Diana to talk to me when I heard Mac striding down the hall. There was no hesitation, but every other step had the slightest drag.
Mac filled the doorway as he stood, evaluating the situation.
“Diana, Clyde.” He nodded to each of us. “How can I help you two?”
“Diana wants to—” I began, but Diana put her hand on mine to stop me.
“I want to make a confession,” she said.
“What?” I turned to look at her and held my hand up to stop Mac from coming in the room.
It didn’t work. He shut the door behind him and sat down across from Diana. His glance slid away from me as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a digital recorder.
“I’ll need to record you.” He placed it on the table between us.
“No. No, Mac, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.” I stood up and tried to pull Diana up with me. “She’s been under a lot of stress with Dylan and the festival and Rafe’s death.”
She took my hand and pulled me back down into my seat. “This is the right thing to do, Clyde.” She gripped my hand even tighter and turned to Mac. She nodded.
Mac reached out and pressed a button on the device, a green light blinked on.
“Please state your full name and address,” he said.
I felt dizzy and nauseated as Diana identified herself and rattled off her address.
“You’re here of your own volition to make a statement?” Mac asked.
“Yes.” Diana nodded. I took deep breaths and tried to figure out how to get us both out of this room.
“Okay, what information do you want to provide?”
“I killed Rafe Godwin. I put peanut oil in the bread I made, knowing he was allergic. I broke the EpiPen so it wouldn’t work. I just pretended to give him the injection so no one would know.” Diana hung her head. “I did it all by myself. My brother, Dylan, is innocent.”
I thought I was going to be sick. The room spun and it was only when Diana turned to me with tears spilling down her cheeks that I was able to pull myself together. Mac had already turned off the recorder and was out of his seat, calling for Tom. Diana scrubbed at her cheeks and dried her eyes on her sleeve. She sat quietly while Mac read her her rights, and Charla came to lead her down the hall to be fingerprinted again.
My hands were shaking and I was still sitting in the interview room when Mac returned. I was running the last half hour through my head. I knew Diana was innocent, but couldn’t figure out what she thought she would accomplish by this stunt.
“Are you okay?” he said.