The Accomplice

“Fingerprints?”

Oslo pretended to consult his notes. “I’d have to get back to you on that.”

“Didn’t you think that the caller might have been the killer?”

“If I thought there was a killer, I would have considered that a possibility,” Oslo said.

“What didn’t sit right with you?”

“It didn’t make sense that Scarlet made that hike alone. I thought maybe she was lured up there. And the call bugged me. But a lot of people are wary of cops. At the end of the day, we didn’t find any evidence to dispute an unfortunate accident,” Oslo said.

“Why did you close the case when you still had doubts?”

“The evidence pointed to an accident. And I didn’t want Owen living with a cloud over him.”

“Did you interview Luna Grey back then?” Margot asked.

“Luna Grey? What does she have to do with anything?”

Oslo hadn’t thought about the girl until he’d pulled the file to refresh his memory.

“Luna was the one who discovered the body of Owen’s wife. In fact, she notified Owen before the police,” Margot said.

Oslo knew the brushstrokes of the case Burns was working. Still, his thoughts were spinning too fast to catch up. He wasn’t expecting to hear Luna’s name in reference to the open case.

“She and Owen are still friends?” Oslo asked.

“Yep.”

“Huh. How’d she find the body?”

“Owen and Luna are neighbors. They live just a quarter mile from each other. Luna and Irene would jog at the same cemetery,” Burns said.

“You know who she is, right?” Oslo asked. “Luna Brown-slash-Grey?”

“We do,” Burns said. “It’s hard to ignore her proximity to death.”

“It snags your brain, doesn’t it?” Oslo said.

“Yes. But repetition isn’t necessarily a pattern,” Burns said.

“True. And yet it’s hard to resist imposing a pattern.”

“The anonymous call about Scarlet. I assume you listened to the recording.”

Oslo nodded. “Many times. I don’t think it was Owen. Doubt it was Luna.”

“Could you tell if it was a man or woman?”

“Woman, I think. Disguising her voice.”

“That feels a little more suspicious than an innocent bystander,” Burns said.

“I agree,” Oslo said. “But people often act suspiciously whether they’re guilty or not.”





October–December 2004


Things had been shaky for a while in the wake of Scarlet’s death. Luna was associated with Owen, who was still considered a murderer. If it hadn’t been for Casey and Mason, Luna would have become a complete outcast. Because their friendship was given at their own risk, it felt generous. Luna was surprised when Casey and Mason suggested the three of them become roommates junior year. They found a two-bedroom, two-bath house off campus. Mason even visited Owen in London over Christmas break. Luna couldn’t remember when those two had become friends. It seemed to happen when Owen was gone. She thought Mason probably wrote really great letters.

Luna missed Owen, for sure. But Griff filled the void, in a very different way. At first, Luna and Griff’s relationship was a modern epistolary one—daily emails. Then long phone calls were added to the mix. Finally, Griff invited Luna to meet him at the Berkshires house for a weekend in October. Luna still couldn’t tell whether he was courting her or not.

Luna borrowed Casey’s car and arrived late Friday night. Griff greeted her with a kiss on the cheek. He kept offering her things from the refrigerator. When she asked for a beer, he stammered something about her not being of drinking age. Luna threatened to leave unless he gave her the beer. Then they sat on the couch, on opposite ends, watching television. Hours passed that first night. Nothing. Luna didn’t think she could take any more of it.

“I’m going to bed,” she said.

On Luna’s past visits, she’d always slept in the downstairs guest room. That night she went to Griff’s room on the second floor and climbed into his bed. Griff came upstairs about fifteen minutes later. Without commenting on her presence there, Griff got into bed and said, “Good night, then.”

When Griff didn’t make a move, Luna said, “Oh my god. Seriously?”

“Something on your mind?” Griff said.

“Are you planning on going into the priesthood or currently under treatment for a venereal disease?” Luna asked.

“No.”

Luna sat upright and said, “Did you invite me here to not have sex?”

“No. But I didn’t invite you for the sole purpose of sex.”

“You kissed me six months ago. Nothing since then.”

“We haven’t been alone until now.”

“We’re alone now,” Luna said.

“You’re right,” Griff said.

He kissed her. She kissed him back. Griff suggested they try to take things slowly. Luna suggested they’d already done that. They had sex that night. Luna, who always, always slept alone, stayed in his bed and actually fell asleep. The morning light surprised her. When she looked over at Griff still in a deep slumber, she felt happy in a way she didn’t think was possible. The guilt, however, would soon follow.



* * *





As winter break drew near, Griff phoned Luna to invite her back to the Berkshires house.

“It’ll be great,” Griff said without any conviction.

“I can’t. I’m visiting my mother.”

“In Canada? How will you get there?” Griff asked.

“I’m thinking about driving, so I can stop at Niagara Falls on the way back.”

“Niagara Falls?”

“Yes,” Luna said. “Have you been?”

“Never,” said Griff.

“You should go,” Luna said. “It’s totally worth it.”

“Is that an invitation?” Griff asked.

Luna’s silence told Griff that it was not.

“I’ll only be gone three days, and most of it will be driving,” Luna said.

“Did you say three days?”

“You keep repeating things I say,” Luna said.

“You keep saying weird things. Why would you go home for only three days? Actually, one day, since two of those days you’d be driving.”

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