Inside, the same cop meets me atthe counter. He makes a quick call and then directs me to a smallwhite room just off the lobby. As soon as I walk in, I feel a coldshiver come over me and I start to shake.
There are four chairs and atable in the center of the room. It’s a room I’d only seen inmovies; a room I had never dreamed I’d be in.
The cop leaves and shuts thedoor behind him. What the hell could Dickson want to know now? I’vetold him almost everything. Thank God Tim had the wherewithal tosay that he didn’t know Denny. If Tim had told the truth—that Dennyhad been at the reception, that Denny had stayed and drank andlaughed= the cops would know that I’m a lot closer to Denny thanI’d let on.
Still shivering, I put my handsin my hoodie pocket. I feel something firm and square. I pull itout. Denny’s wallet. I’d forgotten that I’d put it in mypocket.
I quickly stuff it back in mypocket and hope to hell this room isn’t monitored. What if I standup at some point in the interview and the wallet falls out? Worseyet, what if they do a routine pat-down and find it? Aside from itsolidifying very obviously my connection to Denny, I don’t evenknow what’s inside it—what if he keeps a little tinfoil ball ofcoke or some other drug?
My palms are sweating, and myface is starting to feel flushed. The second the detective sees me,he’s going to know I’m freaking out about something. Every possiblescenario speeds through my mind, all of them ending with me inhandcuffs.
God, how the hell did I get intothis mess. My life was so quiet before my father died. Ever sincethen I feel like I’ve been in a tornado that carries me, kickingand screaming, from one disaster to another.
I hear the doorknob rattle. Evenmy knees are shaking now. Dickson walks in, clipboard in hand. He’swearing blue jeans and a blazer with a light blue turtleneckunderneath. In this outfit he looks more like a professor than acop.
He grabs the back of the chairacross the table, pulls it out then sits down. The whole time, hiseyes are fixated on me. “How are you, Jade? You look likesomething’s bothering you.”
“Well, that would make sense,” Isay, keeping my voice tight and firm. “I was on my way home after along day of work when I was pulled over and asked to meet you here.So, yeah, I guess I feel a little bothered. I thought we alreadycleared up all of the questions you had.”
He smiles and puts his clipboardon the table in front of him. Taking a pen out of the pocket of hisblazer, he clicks it and then taps the end on the paper. “You didanswer the questions I had. At the time.” He leans forward, asthough to tell me a secret. “However, this is an investigation andas new things come to light, we need to look at other things alittle closer. Turn over every stone, so to speak.”
“What new things have come tolight?”
“I don’t want to burden you withthat. Plus, we’re trying to piece everything together before wedisclose any information. However, we’re getting close.” His smilevanishes and he stares right through me. “Did your wife tell youthat she was here today?”
“Of course. We tell each othereverything.”
“Do you?” He nods and jotssomething down on his clipboard.
What the hell does that mean? Ifold my hands on the table, squeezing them tightly in case he seesme shaking. “Detective Dickson, you called me here. What is it Ican do for you? I’m really tired and I just want to go home.”
He taps his pen on the paperagain. “After you missed the ferry the night that your brother andRobbie were at your house, what time did you get home the nextmorning?”
“I don’t know. I took the firstferry over. I would’ve been on Gabriola by seven A.M. ish, and homeabout fifteen minutes later.”
Dickson writes 7:15 and thencircles it. “Did you notice anything different in the yard when youcame home?”
I frown. “No. I mean, I wasgroggy. I had just spent the night in my truck with a strange dog.I wasn’t really focused on the yard.”
He nods.
“Why?”
“Oh, it’s just standard stuff.Process of elimination.”
Next, Dickson asks me about whatI saw when I first entered the cottage. Were their signs of astruggle? No. Was Annie bleeding or calling out for help? No. Werethere drugs around her, pills, pot or anything else? No.
“All right, Jade. I just have acouple more questions for you.”
I look at him.
“Were you ever made aware ofwhat your brother Denny’s condition is? His state of mentalhealth?”
“Denny’s mental health issues?”I repeat his words, so I have time to think of an answer that isn’ttoo incriminating. “I don’t really know. He was okay when he wasyoung. I think he just has bad anxiety. He saw a lot of therapistsgrowing up. They gave him meds for when he had panic attacks. Ithink he still takes them.”
“So, he’s had debilitatingmental health issues since he was young, and you grew up in thesame house, but were never made aware of what exactly his conditionwas?”
There’s no way he’s buying it.Just by the way he’s squinting his eyes at me right now, I can tellhe knows I’m lying. I’ve got to give him something.
“Well, he did have a doctor thatsaid he was bi-polar, but my father never believed it.”
Dickson writes down something Ican’t make out on the paper.
“Detective Dickson. You’reasking me a lot about Denny and I don’t know why. We aren’t close.I saw him once since that night, and it was brief. He lives in WestVancouver and I live here.”
“I am just trying to get to thebottom of a murder investigation. A man in his twenties was lastseen at your home, after which he went missing. Then he was found acouple bays down from where you live. You’re a smart girl, I thinkyou can understand why I
