“Nothing,” Susan said. “Go ahead.” They had been going over the same questions for almost an hour. Susan felt that she had recounted, minute by minute, every interaction she’d had with Paul Reston since she was fourteen years old. She had told them how he had manipulated Addy. Now she didn’t want to think about him anymore. Her head throbbed. The EMTs had used butterfly bandages to tape the cut on her forehead shut, but she was going to have a hell of a black eye in the morning. She wanted a cigarette. And a bath. And she wanted her mother.
Claire was leaning against one wall, Henry against the other. “You’re sure he didn’t mention any other girls, girls we might not know about?” Claire asked.
“I’m sure,” Susan said.
“And you didn’t save any letters that he sent?”
There had been hundreds of them. She had tossed them in the bonfire on her dead father’s birthday while she was still in college. “I got rid of them all. Years ago.”
Claire gave Susan a careful appraisal. “And you’re okay? You don’t need to go to the hospital?”
Susan touched her neck, where an ugly red mark had formed. It stung, but it would heal. “I’ll be fine.”
There was a knock at the door and Henry opened it and Archie Sheridan walked in.
“Maybe we can wrap this up in the morning?” he asked. “Let Susan go home and get some sleep?”
“Sure,” Henry said. He glanced at his watch and turned to Claire. “You still up for heading back to McCallum’s?”
“For what?” Archie asked.
“He wants to see if he can find that goddamn cat,” Claire said. She made a face at Archie. “He’s such a softy.”
“What?” said Henry as he and Claire left the office. “I like cats.”
Archie’s hair and clothes glistened with condensation. He looked like something that had been left in the yard overnight and now was covered with dew. Susan wanted to leap into his arms. “You’re all wet,” she observed.
“It’s raining,” Archie said.
“Thank God,” Susan muttered. And then she started to cry. She felt Archie kneel down next to her and put his arm around her and pull her into his wet corduroy blazer. She let herself sob. Not because she wanted to, but because she couldn’t stop it. Her whole body shook, gasping for air. She hid her face. Archie smelled like rain. His sweater scratched her cheek, but she didn’t care. After a few minutes, she looked up and saw that Henry and Claire were gone.
“Feel better?” Archie asked softly.
Susan held her hands out in front of her and watched them quaver. “No.”
“Afraid?” he asked.
Susan considered this. “The expression ‘scared shitless’ comes to mind.”
Archie looked her in the eyes. “It’ll pass,” he said.
She examined his face, his eyes full of kindness, his pupils tiny. That had been quite a performance on the boat. If it had been a performance. “What are you afraid of, Archie?” she asked.
He slid her an amused, suspicious glance. “Is this for your story?”
“Yes.” She looked at him for a minute and then laughed. “But we can go off the record if you want.”
He was thoughtful and then his face grew dark and he seemed to shake some prickly idea from his head. “I think I’m done being a subject for a while,” he said.
She nodded, and in that moment she realized that Archie had never told her anything, never let her see anything, that he didn’t want her to know. It didn’t matter. He could have his secrets. She was done with hers. “He said that I was his person,” she told him. “He said that we all have people in the world we belong to. Connect with. And that I was his. He said that there was no denying it.”
Archie laid his hand on her arm. “He was wrong.”
She rested her fist on Archie’s chest. “Well, anyway,” she said, “this is going to sound dorky, but thanks for saving my life.”
“It doesn’t sound dorky at all.”
She leaned forward and kissed him. It was a light kiss on the lips. He didn’t move. He didn’t reciprocate, but he didn’t pull away, either. When she opened her eyes, he smiled at her gently.
“You’ve got to get over that,” he said. “The older men in authority thing.”
She made a face. “Right. I’ll get right on that.”
Susan walked out of the office into the foyer of the patrol office. She saw her mother before her mother saw her. Bliss’s red lipstick was faded and she looked small in her big leopard-print coat. Quentin Parker, Derek the Square, and Ian Harper were huddled a few yards away from her, and Bliss stood by herself against the wall. Ian saw Susan and smiled, but Susan barely gave him a glance as she went straight to her mother. Bliss looked up and burst into tears and wrapped her arms around Susan. She reeked of menthols and wet old fur and pressed against Susan like they might merge into one person. Susan was aware of her colleagues watching, but she was only slightly mortified.
“They told me about Reston,” Bliss said in a shaky whisper. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Susan said. She peeled her mother off of her and kissed her on the cheek. “I think it’s going to be okay now.”