'We were downstairs when it was going on.'
'Downstairs, right. And Jenny was upstairs with Mindy and Jeff. Who else could have killed them? And we're not even talking about…about her…condition…or whatever you want to call it.' He glanced around the restaurant, as if watching for eavesdroppers. 'She may not even be human, Diane.'
'Of course she's human. She's a sweet little girl who nearly died when her own sister tried to kill her. Don't you think that's enough turmoil in her life?'
'So you're willing to let her walk away? Even if she's a killer?'
Diane knew this was not the answer Robert wanted. 'Yes.'
Robert shook his head and dropped his gaze.
'Living with me, she's going to get the love and guidance she's never had,' Diane said. She hated the slightly defensive tone that had crept into her voice.
'How do you know that she won't turn on you?' Robert said. 'Even if there isn't anything…supernaturally wrong with her, there's every possibility that she's deeply disturbed, maybe even sociopathic.' He kept thinking about the official police version-that Jeff had savagely murdered Mindy, and then killed himself. Even now, Clark wondered what had really gone on there that night.
'Oh, God, Robert. Saying something like that-' She locked her jaw, and then surprised herself by standing up. 'I'm just afraid we shouldn't see each other anymore.'
He grabbed her hand. 'Diane, please don't say that. You're upset, but-'
She saw the grief in his eyes. It was the same kind of grief she felt at this moment. First she'd felt she could never love anyone with the same passion she'd felt for her first husband, and then she'd met Robert and…
She took her hand away. 'I'm sorry, Robert. What you're asking is for me to choose between you and Jenny. And I guess I've given you my answer.'
She saw anger fill his gaze. 'What happens if I report what really happened that night? Demand an investigation?'
Softly, knowing that many diners had started watching them, Diane said, 'If you do that, Robert, you'll be thrown off the force for covering up the evidence in the first place. I don't think you'd be that foolish. You like your job too much.'
She left the restaurant.
The police officers-one in uniform, one in a brown suit his wife had bought him at Sears for his last birthday- stood in the doorway of the Chief's office, nudging each other and shaking their heads in operatic disapproval.
Inside the office, the Chief had his feet up on the desk and was reading a paperback called The Supernatural Explained by Dr. T. J. MacGregor, M. F. A., the exact meaning of which was lost on the two men.
'What the hell's gotten into him these days, anyway?' the uniformed officer asked the other.
All the man in the brown suit could do was shake his head again.
Clark had been reading The Supernatural Explained for the past two hours, ever since his disappointing lunch with Diane.
Glancing up, becoming aware of the two officers in the doorway, he said, 'Help you with anything, men?'
Steinberg, the man in the brown suit, said, 'We were just wondering why you'd be reading a book like that.'
Clark took the book away from his face and stared at it. 'What's wrong with this book?'
'Well, you know,' Maloney, the uniformed man, said.
'No, I don't know.'
'Well, supernatural and stuff like that,' Steinberg said.
'Oh, you mean you don't believe in it?'
'Yeah…uh…right. I mean…uh…yeah, we don't believe in it,' Maloney said, apparently repeating himself for emphasis. 'Uh…do you?'
'Are you going to start laughing if I say 'yes'?'
'Hell, no,' Steinberg said. But he said it too quickly to be convincing. 'I mean, what you believe in is your business. This is America, after all.'
Clark put the book face down on the desk and then sat forward in his chair, elbows on the desk. 'Well, for what it's worth, you two, I don't believe in the supernatural.'
They started to smile, obviously happy that the Chief had taken the trouble to convince them of his sanity.
'On the other hand,' Clark said, 'I don't disbelieve it, either.'
'Huh?' Maloney said.
'In other words, it's possible. You mean you don't even think it's possible?'
Maloney looked at Steinberg. 'You think it's possible?'
Steinberg looked at Maloney. 'You go first, Maloney. Do you think it's possible?'
'Well…uh…I…uh…'
Clark smiled. 'You don't have to commit yourself, Maloney, don't worry.'
Maloney seemed relieved.
'Maybe I'm just trying to expand my horizons a little,' Clark said. He purposely kept the good-natured tone in his voice. It was his blue gaze that was troubled. He patted the book. 'So if you two don't mind, I guess I'll get back to my reading.'
Maloney said, 'Oh, we don't mind, Chief. Do we, Steinberg?'
'No, Chief, we don't mind at all.'
But before they left they gave each other worried looks. Whatever happened to the Chief Clark whose main concern was how the Red Sox were doing?
Clark spent the rest of the afternoon in his office, except for two trips to the bathroom and one trip to the pop machine.
On the other side of the wire mesh that covered his office windows, afternoon gave way to purple dusk and purple dusk to velvety black night. Shifts had changed, pizza and burgers and submarines had been delivered and devoured, and the more officious proceedings of the day had shifted to the more rowdy business of the night: drunks, derelicts, and drug addicts.
All this time, Clark read. He could not recall ever reading a book with so much intensity, except perhaps for Kiss Me Deadly by Mickey Spillane, a copy of said novel having been given him at age thirteen by an older cousin who had kindly underlined all the good parts.
By the time he had finished The Supernatural Explained, he had a headache, an empty stomach, a full bladder, and a singular desire to talk to Diane, even before he dealt with that full bladder.
Gazing at the spray of stars across the nighttime sky, he dialed her number. She picked up on the second ring. 'Hello.'
'Possession.'
'What?'
'Possession.'
'Is this Robert?'
'Who else?'
'You're certainly in a lot better mood than you were at lunch.'
'I'm sorry.'
She sighed. 'So am I. I've been miserable ever since.'
'Me, too.'
'So what's this about possession?'
'That's her problem. Jenny's. Listen to this, all right?'
'Give me a minute. She's running a bath upstairs and I want to make sure she's got fresh towels.'
'You really love that girl.'
An uncomfortable pause. 'She's my…daughter. Now, Robert. I hope you can…understand that.'
'I think I can.'
'It doesn't have to be a choice between you and Jenny. It really doesn't.'
'I hope not.' His bladder was starting to hurt. 'So is it all right if I stop over?'
