I think back. Everything is so fuzzy and unclear. ‘I dropped Laurie home, then picked up June . . . About eleven, maybe a few minutes before? I don’t know.’
‘When you got home were you aware of any cars in the drive or parked on the street, or anyone following you?’
‘No, not then,’ I say, shaking my head, ‘but later . . . yes, there was a car in the drive. Gene . . .’ I stop. I don’t want to get Gene into trouble.
Too late. ‘Go on,’ Nate presses.
‘Well, just that I was closing the blinds . . .’
‘Where? In the living room?’
‘Yes. I saw Gene leaving his apartment. It’s over the garage.’
‘What time would this have been? Do you recall?’
‘I don’t know, a few minutes after I got back. Maybe just after eleven? I saw him get into a car that was parked halfway down the drive.’
Nate’s pencil stops scratching and he looks at me. ‘The car didn’t pull up to the house?’
I shake my head.
‘And did you get a look at the car? Make? Model? Color?’
I shake my head again. ‘It was too dark. I think it was an SUV but I couldn’t swear on it. Why don’t you just ask him? I’m sure he’ll tell you.’
‘I’ve spoken to him already. He didn’t mention it but I’ll check with him again.’ He looks back down at his pad and underlines something.
Why didn’t Gene tell him he went out?
‘So, Gene left the property,’ Nate goes on, ‘and you don’t know where he was going and you didn’t see him return?’
‘No, but I wasn’t watching out for him. He lives his own life. Comes and goes as he pleases. I went upstairs and took a shower.’
‘And you were in the shower when you heard the break-in?’
I nod. A shudder runs up my spine and I have to close my eyes to stop the room from spinning. June’s scream echoes around my skull and the pain is so great, for a moment I think my head is going to explode.
‘Ava?’
I’m pulled back into the present by Nate’s hand on top of mine. ‘Are you OK?’ he asks me. I open my eyes and I nod, an action I instantly regret.
‘Are you sure?’ Nate asks. ‘Do you want to take a break?’
I shake my head, careful to keep my movements to a minimum, the pain settling to a low thrum. I just want this over with.
He lifts his hand and once again my body betrays me by pining for his touch. ‘OK, so what happened next?’ he asks. ‘Do you remember?’
I start to tell him and as I do I can feel my heart beginning to race, adrenaline piston-pumping into my system. As I describe every detail it’s as if I’m there, reliving it all over again. I can feel the bump as I fly into the side table, the vice-like grip of his hand around my ankle as he drags me across the bed. The bruises on my body start to throb.
When I finish, Nate waits a beat then asks, ‘Is there anything else? Can you remember what they were wearing?’
I try to picture the men but it’s a blur. ‘Just black. All black.’
I watch Nate write that down.
‘The first one was about five foot ten or eleven maybe. Shorter than you. Medium build.’ I try to remember the details but they’re all fuzzy and indistinct. ‘The other one was smaller – maybe five eight or five nine? He was the one who took June upstairs.’
‘Why did he take her upstairs?’ Nate asks, suddenly alert.
I close my eyes and try to remember. The pictures are so out of focus. ‘He . . . um . . .’ My heart pounds. ‘I . . .’ The pain in my head crescendos and I fall back onto the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut.
‘OK,’ Nate interrupts gently. ‘It’s OK.’ He waits a minute, until I’ve opened my eyes again. ‘Let’s go back. Did you hear either of them speak at all?’
‘Yes.’
‘Can you tell me anything about the way they spoke? What did they say? Did they have accents?’
‘The taller one he didn’t really say much. I don’t know. He just sounded normal.’
Nate looks frustrated. ‘Could you tell if he was white? Hispanic? Black?’
I shake my head. ‘No. I’m sorry.’ I feel like I’m failing a test somehow. Why couldn’t I have remembered more? Is it the head injury? Has it affected my memory?
‘And the other one?’
‘He spoke more.’ What’s your fucking name? Which way’s your bedroom?
‘Ava?’ Nate presses.
‘Um . . . he sounded maybe, I don’t know, southern? There was a kind of twang to his voice but it was hard to tell, because of the mask. It was muffled.’
Nate nods. ‘You’re doing great. This is all really helpful.’ I look at him and he smiles encouragingly. Our eyes stay locked for a while before he drags his gaze back to his notebook. ‘OK,’ he says, flipping back through the pages.
‘You said he had a gun. Do you remember what the gun looked like?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know anything about guns. It was a handgun, small – I guess.’ I glance at the gun holstered on Nate’s waist. ‘A little like that one,’ I say, pointing.
‘Like this?’ he says, taking the gun out of its holster and showing it to me.
I cringe back against the headboard. Oh God. Just seeing a gun again makes my hands start to shake. Nate sees my reaction and quickly reholsters the weapon.
‘I think so. I can’t really remember though.’
‘And when you got to the kitchen, Robert was already there with June?’
I nod. ‘The other one, he was holding a gun to Robert’s head and he . . .’ I struggle to remember the order of it. ‘June was crying. And . . . and he, um, he made her come over to him and then he said that they were going to go and open
