But Gonzalez can see that he’s getting to me. He abruptly switches tactics. “Where’s your car?”
Jeez, they didn’t even find my car? I figured they would have combed the woods all around the Colonel’s cabin. What a bunch of morons. I shrug.
“What is Preston’s connection to Violet Cain?” Gonzalez asks. “We found the hard drive with her pictures. We know you two searched for her online.”
“I told you that already,” I say. “The last time you questioned me. Preston said she was some chick he met on the internet.”
“Did you know she was twice his age?”
“Not until we found her profile.” We. Me and Parvati. I can’t keep myself from looking at the pictures spread across the table, at the seductive smile on Parvati’s face. At her hair. Her legs. At the way she’s positioned on Preston in a manner that makes it seem like they’ve spent a lot of time naked together. If they lied about having a relationship, God only knows what else they lied about.
“Is it Violet Cain’s body?” Gonzalez asks.
Did he say body? I look away from the photos. “What?”
“Don’t play dumb. The firefighters pulled two bodies out of the house, burned almost beyond recognition. One of them was a woman. Was it Violet Cain?”
Wait. Did he say two bodies?
“Don’t answer that.” Kathleen puts a hand on my arm. I almost forgot she was in the room.
I remember the certainty in my gut as I raced toward the flaming house. Preston was in there. I could feel it.
“You found bodies?” My voice raises in pitch. “Dead bodies?” The room goes fuzzy. This isn’t happening. It can’t be.
“Give it up,” Gonzalez says. “There’s no point in lying.”
“What bodies?” I ask.
“Two bodies,” McGhee repeats slowly. “The body of Preston DeWitt, and an as-of-yet-unidentified female.”
My mind is spinning like a hamster wheel. If someone kidnapped Preston because of something political or because he owed them money, there would be no point in killing him.
“Preston can’t be dead,” I say.
“I’m sorry, Max,” McGhee says. “His father made a positive identification.”
It takes a few seconds to sink in. Then I double over, my hands clutching at my gut as I feel stomach acid burning its way up my throat. My lawyer thrusts a trash can beneath my chin just in time. I throw up for so long my stomach practically turns itself inside out. I hang my head low for a few minutes afterward. A strand of saliva drips from the left corner of my mouth. Preston. Dead. Burned to death. All I can think about is how he might be alive right now if I hadn’t lied for him.
“Is this yours?” Gonzalez asks.
I have to force myself to look up. Gonzo tosses a ziplock bag in my direction. Son of a bitch. My shark’s tooth pendant is inside, blackened from the smoke but not destroyed. I don’t know why I’m surprised. One more nail in my coffin. I wipe my mouth on my sleeve and then bend over the trash can again.
“We have no comment,” Kathleen snaps. “I think we’re done here for now.”
“It doesn’t matter, Max,” Gonzalez says. “The forensics report on this and everything else from the fire will be back in a few days, and it’s going to link you—irrefutably—to Violet Cain’s house. And when it does, we’re charging you with arson . . . and murder.”
TWENTY-FOUR
I LEAN BACK AGAINST THE wall of my cell and let my eyes fall shut. Tears push at my eyelids. It was bad enough when Preston was missing and someone was trying to set me up. But now Pres is dead and Parvati is a liar and maybe a cheater too. I have never felt so alone in my whole life, not even back when I was homeless. At least then I knew I was the only person I could count on. Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost was completely full of shit.
I haven’t seen Parvati, and I don’t expect to. After they were done grilling me, McGhee and Gonzalez informed me she was charged with aiding and abetting and then promptly bailed out by her parents, who filed a restraining order against me on her behalf. I don’t even care anymore. I’m glad she’s not here. I wouldn’t be able to look her in the face without thinking about those pictures of her and Preston.
She probably thinks she did me a favor by lying, that if I knew she and Pres had been together for years I’d be jealous all the time. But she had to know I would find out eventually. Unless she thinks I’m a complete idiot. She does tend to think most people are stupid. Preston is like that too.
I mean he was like that.
I should be pissed at him, too, for lying and for making those video recordings, but I just feel hollow. I kind of understand why he lied to me. To admit he liked her—that they used to be a couple—would be like admitting she preferred me to him. Preston was never any good at losing.
Also, it’s hard to be mad at a dead guy.
My lawyer stops by to read me the riot act about talking to the feds in exchange for information about Parvati. She stands on the other side of the bars, ignoring the guy in the cell across from me who is hooting and making rude gestures with his fingers and tongue.
“Do you want to go to maximum security prison for life?” she asks, flipping Hooting Guy the bird without even turning around. “If not, you’d better start listening to me.”
“How can they charge me with Preston’s murder? I’m innocent.”
“Prosecutors charge innocent people with murder all the time.” Kathleen plucks a piece of lint off the collar of her suit. “But remember, right now you’ve only been arraigned on obstruction, flight, and assault charges.”
“Oh, is that all?” I can’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “Can you get rid of the assault charge? It’s not like I was really going to shoot anybody.”
“Any time you threaten someone with bodily harm, it’s assault,” she says. “You would have gotten charged with felony theft, too, but your girlfriend admitted that she took the car and gave you her dad’s gun.”
“Great.” I sigh. I had actually managed not to think about Parvati for two whole minutes, but the images of her and Pres come rushing back.
“At least I got you bail,” Kathleen says hopefully, like she’s trying to cheer me up. “I had to reference a ton of precedents to get that.”
“It’s not like I’m going to get out of here, anyway. My parents don’t have that kind of money.”
“They only have to come up with ten percent of it and a bail bondsman will get you out.”
“Oh, only twenty grand?” I cross my arms. “Still not happening.”
Her demeanor softens. “Look, Max. We’ll talk privately later about everything that happened during the questioning, okay? We’re going to need to come up with a plan of action regarding the pictures and the shark’s tooth.”
I nod, even though I have no idea what the two of us could possibly come up with to explain away a motive for murder and physical evidence linking me to the fire.
TWENTY-FIVE