Slowly, Jane said, “Well, there’s Andrew...”
“Yes, Mr. Carville,” Hardy said. “Presumably he was good enough to take Tyler in because he was living with you. But once you’re out of the picture, will he still want that responsibility? And let’s say he does. There’s still a cloud hanging over your Andrew. Brie remains missing. There’s a strong likelihood she was murdered. Andrew remains atop the list of suspects. One day his luck may run out. If he’s charged and convicted and sent to prison, and you’re already there, what becomes of Tyler then?
“Stop,” Jayne said.
“I simply want you to consider the consequences of this impulsive, no doubt well-intentioned confession you’re determined to make,” Hardy said.
Jayne said something under her breath.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I’m going to have a baby,” Jayne said.
Hardy sighed. “I see.”
“I found out last week,” she whispered.
“Do you want to give birth in jail, Ms. Keeling? Is confessing to a crime you didn’t commit, to spare your brother, worth giving birth behind bars? There are facilities that will allow you to raise a baby, in the early months, while incarcerated. But is that what you want?”
A tear ran down Jayne’s cheek.
Hardy said, “Maybe, if I were you, I’d be thinking of doing the same thing. You’re terrified for Tyler. But the smartest thing you can do is find him a good lawyer. Someone who can cut a good deal for him.”
Jayne reached into her purse for a tissue.
Hardy pushed back her chair and stood. “You’re welcome to stay here a moment while you pull yourself together.”
Hardy left the room.
As Jayne finished drying her tears, she heard the ping of a text on her phone. She took it from her purse, saw that it was from NORMAN, which meant, of course, that it was from Andrew. The text read:
I’m here.
Fifty-Four
Andrew
Jayne appeared within a minute of my text, entering the police station lobby from an adjacent hallway. I could tell she’d been crying, and at the sight of me she ran into my arms and hugged me, but not before taking in my appearance.
She let go of me, gave me a one-second appraisal, and said, “My God, what’s happened to you?”
I glanced down, having almost forgotten what a sight I was. My clothes were covered with grit, my face and hands smudged with soil, dirt under my fingernails. There was probably some blood mixed in with it if you looked hard enough. I had, after all, just killed a man.
“Your story first,” I said. “But let’s get out of here.” It was more than privacy that prompted me to find another place for us to talk. I didn’t want to run the risk of Hardy seeing me like this, and having to explain. It wouldn’t be long before she learned about what had gone down in those woods.
I led Jayne outside the headquarters building, a broad, one-story, drab red-brick structure with a foreboding, massive black entryway. There were no park benches around, so I led her over to my Explorer and got her into the passenger seat. I went around and slipped in behind the wheel, turning the key only so that I could put down the two front windows to let in some air.
“Talk to me,” I said.
She told me about Tyler’s arrest for the murder of a woman named Candace DiCarlo, as well as the pantomime orchestrated by Albert and the dead woman. That left me speechless. Albert’s stupid stunt got a hit man to second-guess himself, and nearly got me killed in the process. I wanted to find him and smash his head up against a tree.
And now Tyler had been ensnared by the entire mess.
“I’m scared to death for him,” Jayne said.
“They’ve got a witness, they know he was there, and there’s blood,” I said. Jayne nodded. “Do you think he did it?”
She shook her head. “No,” she said confidently. “He would never do that to anyone. Except...”
“Except what?”
“There’s something I never told you. About why Tyler’s aunt wouldn’t look after him anymore.” She told me the story. About Tyler’s angry outburst with Clara, that Detective Hardy had found out about it. “I’m sorry I never told you. I should have. You had a right to know.”
I didn’t see where I had anything to complain about, given how much I had kept from Jayne. “It’s okay. But, shit, it makes him look bad where this Candace woman is concerned. And he ran away from the scene?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t call the police?”
“No.”
“Christ, Jayne, forgive me, but it kind of looks like he did it.”
Jayne nodded. “It looks that way, but...” She paused, sniffed. “I tried to confess.”
“What?”
“I told Detective Hardy it was me. I told her I did it. She wouldn’t believe me.” Her voice briefly adopted an almost dreamlike quality. “Maybe I can still convince her.”
“For God’s sake, Jayne,” I said, “there’s got to be a better way to help him than doing something crazy like that.”
“I love him,” she said. “He’s my brother. I was never there for him. It’s time that I was.”
“Listen, Jayne, I have to tell you what happened to me today. Why I’m such a mess.”
She focused on me and said, “Tell me.”
“I know what happened to Brie.”
Her focus became sharper. “Oh my God.”
I related the events of the afternoon. How Brie was murdered by a hit man named Matt, then buried in the woods north of town. How Norman showed up at the right time and that Matt was dead. I didn’t get into the shoelace story, or that I got some significant information out of Matt before he died.
“Dear God, he made you dig up her grave,” Jayne said, looking as though all that had happened, to both of us, in the last few hours was going to cause her to faint. “Andrew, how are you even putting one foot in front of the other? What are you doing sitting in the car talking to me for? You need to go in there and tell all this to Hardy.”
“In time.”
“Now that you know who killed Brie, maybe she can figure out who it was who hired him.”
When I didn’t say anything right away, Jayne whispered, “You know.”
“I know.”
“Tell her. Tell me.”
I shook my head. “I want to be sure. There needs to be a conversation.” It was time for a change of subject. “We need to find a lawyer for Tyler.”
“I don’t... I can’t think of anyone.”
“I hired a woman named Nan Sokolow a few years ago when Hardy was harassing me. See if you can get in touch with her.”
“And what are you going to do?” But she knew. “Don’t do this yourself.”
“I have to.”
“I don’t think... I’m not sure I can drive. I’m a total wreck.”
“I’ll drop you.”
She started looking in her purse for something. Seconds later, I heard the jangling of keys. “I’m not sure I locked my car.”
Jayne was reaching for the door handle when I said, “I’ll do it. Where are you parked?” She pointed to the far end of the lot. “Be right back.”
I jumped out of the Explorer and strode off in the direction of her car. As I got closer, I saw that she’d most likely not only left it unlocked, but the driver’s window was down.
When I got back to my car, Jayne said, “What took so long?” She was correct in thinking that I had been gone longer than it should have taken.
“The windows were down,” I said. “Had to get in and turn the key to get them up. Engine didn’t want to turn over at first.”
“Oh,” she said.
I started the Explorer. We hardly said a word to each other on the way. When we got back to our place and were in the driveway, Jayne said, “You really need to clean yourself up.”