The Innocent Woman

Tracy went into the outer office, returned a few minutes later. “He’s on his way.”

“What about you? You thought of anything yet?”

“No.”

“We are rapidly passing the point of no return, where it will be too late to do anything.”

“I know that.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He tipped back in his chair, rubbed his head. “Let’s try it the other way around. Forget the time pressure, let’s take it slow and easy, talk it out. Start from the beginning. You’re at home and you get the call.”

Tracy took a breath. “Okay. She called. Right around eight, like I said. I was reading a book. The phone rang. It was Amy. Hysterical. She had to see you.”

“This was the first time you called me?”

“Right. She gave me a number to call back. I called it, told her I couldn’t reach you. She didn’t want to hear it. She wanted your number. I told her I just called your number. She didn’t care, she wanted it anyway, she was gonna call you.”

Tracy pushed the hair out of her eyes. “So, there was no reasoning with her. I gave her your number.” She put up her hands. “I know I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “The least of our worries. You gave her the number, she called up my machine, left a message. What next?”

“She called back. Hysterical. You weren’t home. Well, she knew that. I’d just told her that. But she wasn’t rational. It was like she had to hear the answering machine herself to believe it. And when she couldn’t get you, she wanted to come to the office.”

“She wanted you to go to the office?”

“She thought I was at the office.”

“Why would she think that?”

“Because that’s where she called.”

“What?”

“Because of the trial,” Tracy said impatiently. “I had call-forwarding on. Because I wasn’t going to be here. I was gonna be in court. And there was no reason to come here after. I had the calls forwarded to my own phone and the answering machine on so I could pick ’em up when I got home.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Huh?”

“You can pick up the calls from the office machine from your own phone.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes it fucks up, and-”

Steve held up his hand. “Hey. Sorry. I’m upset, and I’m not rational. Who gives a damn about the answering machine? Anyway, she wanted to meet you here.”

“Right. I ran out the door and hopped in a cab.”

“And?”

“She was waiting right outside. When the cab pulled up, she actually ran up and opened the door. She said, ‘Did you reach him?’”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, right. Like I’d phoned you from inside the cab. I said, ‘No.’ She looked like I’d kicked her in the stomach. She said, ‘Oh god, what am I going to do?’”

“Did the cab driver hear all this?”

“I don’t think so. I had the money out and was paying him off when she opened the door.”

“Then you got out and the cab drove off?”

“Yeah.”

“Before or after she said, ‘Oh god, what am I going to do?’”

“Before. At least I closed the door before that. She asked me about you, I hopped out, slammed the door, said, ‘No.’”

“And she said, ‘Did you reach him?’”

“Right.”

“Is that exactly what she said?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you sure she said him? Or did she use my name?”

“No.”

“What about yours?”

“Huh?”

“Did she say ‘Tracy’? Or ‘Miss Garvin’?”

“No. All she said was, ‘Did you reach him?’”

“That’s a break. What happened then?”

“I was going to bring her up here, but she didn’t want to come. I said, ‘Why?’, but she wouldn’t say. She was acting real funny. They she says she wants me to come with her. I say, ‘Where?’, but she’s so upset that she can’t talk. She’s practically shaking. She just kind of gestures to me, says, ‘Come on.’”

“She took you to the office?”

“Yeah.”

“Showed you the body?”

“Uh huh.”

“She led you right to it? She knew it was there?”

“Oh yes. She didn’t say anything, but she knew.”

“Were the doors unlocked?”

“The downstairs door was unlocked. The upstairs door was ajar.”

“Just the way I found it?”

“Right.”

“Because that’s how you left it?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, give me the rest of it.”

Tracy took a breath. “Okay, we’re in there, we’re in the room, and I’ve seen it and I’m not really feeling great. But I pull myself together and I ask her what happened.”

“And?”

“She can’t talk. She starts blubbering, grabs my arm, drags me out of the room. I had to grab her, slap her, try to get her to calm down. All she says is, ‘I, I-’ And she’s gone again.”

“You ask her if she did it?”

“Yeah.”

“She answer?”

“Not so you could notice.”

“So when she wouldn’t answer your questions, you got her out of there?”

“Yeah.”

“After cleaning up first?”

“Just the doorknob.”

“Nowhere else?”

“That’s the only place I touched.”

“Are you sure?”

“That’s all I remember.”

“What about the petty cash drawer?”

“What about it?”

“Did you see it?”

“No.”

“Amy didn’t point it out?”

“She never mentioned it. First I heard about it was when you asked her.”