Finn flinched. “Yeah, all right, I’ve spent my life sitting in a park with God flying overhead crapping on me. Is that what you want to hear? I’m a loser.”
“What I want to hear is whether you told Tish the truth.”
“Man, what do you care? I mean, what are you after? Everyone from back then is old or dead.”
That was true. Stride didn’t really have an answer. He hadn’t asked himself why he cared so passionately about this case, thirty years after Ray Wallace called it solved. It wasn’t about Tish. It wasn’t about Pat Burns asking him to turn over rocks, in case the national press started asking questions. He had begun to realize that Laura’s murder had changed the course of his life, and it was disturbing to discover that he knew much less about the case-and about Laura-than he had ever believed.
“If the guy who killed Laura is alive, then he still has a debt to pay,” Stride said.
“You don’t need to be behind bars to pay a price. You think living with something like that for thirty years doesn’t eat you up?”
“Is there something you feel guilty about?” Stride asked.
Finn swallowed hard. “I just want to go home. I don’t want to get involved.”
“Talk to me, Finn.”
“I already told the whole story to Tish.”
“I don’t like getting stories secondhand. Tell me again.”
Finn rubbed sweat off his bald head. “All right, all right.” He repeated his memories of the night Laura was killed in the park, which followed the story as Tish had recounted it. He skimmed over the details, but Stride let him continue without interrupting him. Finn ended with his claim that Dada had followed Laura into the woods, leaving the bat in the softball field.
“Is it possible you misunderstood what was happening between Laura and the boy in the field?” Stride asked.
“What do you mean, misunderstood?”
“Maybe they weren’t fighting. Maybe they were making out.”
Finn shook his head. “No way.”
“You’re certain that the black guy, Dada, left the baseball bat in the field?” Stride asked.
“Yeah.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I saw him throw it away, okay?”
“What else do you remember?” Stride asked.
“Nothing. I don’t remember a thing.”
Stride watched Finn’s eyes. The man was lying.
“You told Tish there are gaps in your memory,” Stride said.
“There are gaps in my life,” Finn replied.
“Sometimes people aren’t sure what’s real and what’s a dream, you know what I mean? Are there things like that?”
“I said I don’t remember, okay? Nothing means nothing.”
But it didn’t. Finn was keeping something from him. Stride was sure of it.
“Why were you following Laura?” he asked.
“I liked her.”
“Did you follow her to the park?”
“No, she wandered by. Her and her sister.”
“Did you know someone was stalking Laura? Threatening her? Sending her obscene messages?”
“No,” Finn replied.
“It wasn’t you?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. All I did was follow her.”
“You knew Laura pretty well, didn’t you? Why not tell her you were there? Why spy on her?”
Finn opened his mouth and closed it. “I don’t know,” he muttered.
“Is that the best you can do?”
“I didn’t-I mean-I just liked to watch her. I was embarrassed.”
Stride nodded. “Is any of this story true, Finn?”
“What do you mean?”
“Your sister says you weren’t in the park at all that night.”
Finn shook his head. “Rikke doesn’t think I can fight my own battles. I’m still just a kid to her.”
“So she lied.”
“Hey, she said we were watching fireworks, right? Well, you were there that night. It stormed. There weren’t any fireworks.”
Stride remembered. Finn was right.
“Why would she say that?” Stride asked.
“To protect me.”
“Do you need protection?”
“Back then, yeah, I probably did.”
“Did you kill Laura?”
“No.”
“How do you know? You said you don’t remember a thing. You said Dada left without the bat, and the boy who attacked Laura was unconscious in the softball field. That leaves you and the bat, Finn. Maybe you picked it up. Maybe you did what you’d been doing all night. You followed Laura to the north beach.”
Finn squeezed his head with big hands. His fingernails were chewed and bloody. “No.”
“How do you know?” Stride repeated.
“Leave me alone,” Finn said. His yellowing skin burned crimson. He covered his eyes.
“I think Rikke lied for you because she thinks you killed Laura.”
“No.” His voice was muffled. Sweat dripped down his face like tears and spilled off his chin.
“How can you be sure?”
Finn clutched his fingers into fists and beat against his forehead. “I’m not sure! Does that make you happy? I don’t know! I don’t remember! For all I know, I took that fucking bat and beat her into a pulp. Okay? You try living with that. You try
He shoved his way past Stride and ran for his car.
As Stride watched Finn climb into his vehicle, he remembered talking to Rikke about geometry and realized he was seeing the parallel postulate at work again. He was watching two lines intersect.
Two lines he would have preferred remain parallel, never touching, so that the past didn’t infect the present.
Finn drove a silver RAV.
24
