Yet, how did the detective know about Taylor coming to their house Monday night? Steve must have told her, but why?
"What time do you think Taylor stopped by?"
Carrie's throat felt dry. Should she answer the question? The detective already knew.
"Carrie?" Detective Greiner gently prodded. "We're just trying to put together a timeline. It helps if we talk to everyone who saw Taylor Monday night."
Carrie nodded and let go of the armrests of the chair, putting her hands in her lap.
"I don't know exactly."
"Was it after ten?"
"Um…"
Detective Greiner waited, her expression encouraging.
"Yeah. But I don't know exactly when after ten."
"That's okay," Detective Greiner says. "Can you tell me what happened after Taylor stopped by?"
"She only came over for like a minute. We didn't want her at our house."
Carrie blanched inwardly, recalling how pale Taylor looked when she showed up at their front door. She'd been swaying like she was drunk, and Carrie had felt a red hot rage seeing her there.
"I don't know why she came by after what happened with our dad."
"The incident where you found her on your dad's lap?" Detective Greiner affirmed.
Carrie nodded. "But it was all Taylor. She was that kind of girl." Carrie launched into the story Bets told her. Detective Greiner nodded sympathetically.
"So why did Taylor stop by?"
"Didn't Steve tell you?"
"I'd like to get your version of that night."
"She wanted to come in and lie down, and I told her no. I told her to go away. She looked drunk."
"And where was Steve?"
"He was the one who answered the door." Carrie felt the muscles in her face jump as she recalled what she did. Taylor must have already been hurt when she knocked on their door.
"Did Steve hit her?" The detective asked.
"No! Is that what he told you?" Was her brother trying to protect her? Take the blame for her pushing Taylor?
The detective didn't respond and instead waited patiently for Carrie to tell her part.
"No. He would never do that. I nudged her toward the door, and she sort of fell on her butt. Steve helped her up and told her to leave. He opened the door and told her to go to Enzo's if she wanted to lie down. So she left."
"And was it Enzo who called to say something was wrong with Taylor?"
"It was Bets." Carrie squeezed her entwined fingers together and then burst into tears.
"Did Taylor hit her head against anything when you nudged her, and she fell?"
Carrie's breath caught. "No. I barely touched her. I thought she was drunk."
"Carrie," Detective Greiner's voice became softer. "Taylor's injury is to her right temple. A hard, blunt force, like a fist. Steve is left-handed."
Carrie opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. The detective's bare facts had winded her. "My brother never touched her," she was finally able to say.
"Carrie, I'd like you to come down to the station to give a formal statement of that night," the detective said.
"What? I want to call my dad."
"Of course. He can come in with you."
Carrie realized she'd made a mistake when her dad blasted her over the phone. Within fifteen minutes, he stormed into the office, demanding to know why his daughter was being harassed at school. Face filled with blood, Ron lit into principal Morgan. The principal tried to reason with him, but he would have none of it and threatened to sue. Officer Hernandez, who stood in the office, quiet and superfluous up until that point, told Ron to calm down.
"We just need Carrie to come down to the station and give a formal statement about Taylor coming to your house Monday night," Detective Greiner explained in her calm, casual way. The shock on Carrie’s father's face rendered the detective silent.
"What are you talking about?" He managed.
Carrie couldn't look at her dad anymore. She couldn't look at any of them. All she could focus on was Officer Hernandez's shiny black boots. Their parents had been asleep. Her dad knew nothing about Taylor's short visit before she was found dead. Steve and Carrie had decided to keep that part secret. When Bets called and said something was wrong with Taylor, that she wasn't waking up, Carrie had broken down in tears, hardly able to breathe from the news.
“I barely touched her,” she'd gasped. Her brother had grabbed her shoulders. “She was drunk, Carrie, that's why she fell. It's probably alcohol poisoning.”
Later, much later, when the prosecutor questioned her in court, Carrie found out that Taylor hadn't been drunk. She did have alcohol in her system, but not an amount that would cause alcohol poisoning.
33
Serene - June 1996
The wolf whistle had Serene whipping around. It was Bets, pulling up in her old, faded electric blue Ford Mustang convertible.
"What are you up to?" Bets called out, grinning.
Serene shrugged.
Bets looked her up and down. "Where's your board?"
"Thought I'd walk it today."
"Where you off to?"
"Nowhere. Just whatevas." Ramani and Aarav's arguing had driven her out of the house. Lately, it seemed all they did was argue.
Bets laughed. She liked it when Serene lapsed into Hawaiian pidgin. "Where's Steve? You guys are usually glued at the hip."
"He had something going on with his family."
"Wanna hang?"
"What are you up to?"
"I'm off to the mall."
Serene chewed at the side of her lip. "Shoots." She climbed in the car and reached over her shoulder for the seatbelt, grabbing at nothing.
Bets laughed. "This thing is ancient. The belt only goes over the lap. I wanted something that at least came out in this decade. Even the eighties would have been okay, and I've got a major crush on VW Bugs, but beggars can't be choosers." Bets pulled out into the light traffic.
"But this car's pretty cool," Serene said, stroking the
