Finally, she wrote out a sign that read:
Dick Wilson, ever the smart-ass, then wrote out his own sign and raised it for her to see.
That was pure Dick Wilson.
When she finally hung up, Wilson said, “What’s his problem this time?”
“He said that he caught Brenda smirking after he gave one of his rulings.”
“She must’ve forgotten to genuflect in front of him this morning.”
Being with Dick almost made her forget the scene she’d just left, the dead girl on the hill, and Amy’s confused and disheveled brother in the cabin below. Dick obviously didn’t know about any of this yet.
“So,” Dick Wilson said, “is this finally the morning?”
“The morning?”
“Yeah, that we have sex on your desk there.”
She laughed and shook her head. She probably should give him her speech about sexual harassment, but there was an innocence about him that made him funny instead of threatening.
“I guess I’d better tell you where I’ve just been,” she said.
He immediately picked up on her mood and dropped his joking.
When she finished relating the events of last night and this morning, he said, “Leaving Richie right in the middle.”
“Exactly.”
“Sam won’t move unless he gets some very good proof.”
“I know.”
“But you’re in the middle, too.”
“Yes, I am, Dick. And that’s why I asked you to come in here.”
Her phone buzzed again. “Damn,” she said under her breath. Then she leaned forward and spoke on the intercom. “Unless it’s the president of the United States, I don’t want to talk to him.”
“It’s Jimmy.”
“Oh. I’ll take it.”
Maybe Jimmy was ready to explain why he’d run away this morning. Maybe he was ready to explain that he knew something about Darcy Fuller’s death.
She saw line two flashing. “Thanks.”
She punched line two and said, “Hello, Jimmy?”
But there was just a dial tone.
Sighing, she spoke into the intercom again. “Jimmy wasn’t there.”
“He must’ve hung up.”
Got scared, Amy thought. Called her and then got scared.
She put the phone down.
She said, “I want you to take over this case, work with Sam.”
“Wow. You sure?”
“Positive. He’s my little brother, Dick.”
“I know. But Amy, you’re a professional.”
“I’m not that professional, Dick. I’m not sure anybody is. When Sam was asking him questions this morning, I almost interrupted several times. You know, trying to protect Richie.” She shook her head. “I just couldn’t handle it, Dick.”
“I’ve got to ask you something, Amy.”
“All right.”
“What if I do take over the case and I start to believe that Richie killed her?”
“Then you bring charges against him.”
“And head up the prosecution?”
“And head up the prosecution.”
He leaned forward. “You sure you don’t want to think about this a little longer?”
“I’ve thought about it enough, Dick.”
“Well, I guess I can’t say no. I just hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, Amy.”
“All you have to worry about is the case, Dick. Handle it the way you normally would. You can’t afford to worry about my feelings. And you know I’m right.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I guess you are.”
“You should probably give Sam a call and get things started.”
“Yeah, I probably should.”
Then he stared at her a moment. “I’m sorry about all this, Amy.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m sure Richie didn’t do it.”
“I hope not.”
She felt guilty saying that — as if she had betrayed Richie — but she had to be realistic. Richie was the prime suspect...
Her phone buzzed again. “I’d better take this.”
He stood up. “You’re sure about this?”
“Very sure.”
“You can always change your mind.”
“Thanks, Dick. But I won’t be changing my mind. It’s better for this office if you handle it. That way people won’t start whispering. If I handle it—”
The phone buzzed again.
She waved good-bye to him and then picked up.
It was the Rotary Club wanting to know if she’d be the luncheon speaker a month from now.
2
Jimmy wanted to cry.
He felt scared and confused.
Sometimes he had nightmares of being trapped in a vast midnight forest, the way Hansel and Gretel had been. He felt scared and confused at these times, too.
Sometimes, he woke up from his nightmares with hot tears streaking down his cheeks.
Scared and confused.
He looked at the phone next to his cot.
He’d called Amy’s office three times since running away from her this morning.
Twice, he’d hung up when the woman at the desk had answered. The third time he’d asked for Amy.
He was really going to do it, really talk to her, really tell her the truth about last night.
But then the woman said one moment please.
And he got scared again.
Couldn’t help it.
And hung up.
And now it was as if his legs and arms wouldn’t work. Felt so bad. Really bad. Should have told her the truth.
And then he saw the wren in the window and he felt better.
He talked to birds sometimes and they talked back to him. He used to tell people about this but they’d laugh at him and say, “So you’re talking to the birds again, huh, Jimmy?”
And then they’d wink at each other.
And Jimmy would know they were making fun of him again. He hated it when they made fun. He’d get real mad, like he wanted to hurt them or something; and then he’d get sad. Sad was the worst part.
He’d ride his bike home. He’d always take the alleys until he got out into the countryside. By taking the alleys, he made sure that nobody saw him. Sometimes he didn’t want to be seen at all. Sometimes people watching you, the way they smirked and whispered and pointed, sometimes that hurt even more than people hitting you or throwing things at you.
Maybe that was why he liked Amy so much, why he wanted to marry her.
Because she’d never once made fun of him in any way. Never once. And she was so pretty, so very pretty. And she smelled good. Like flowers. And she had a nice shape. He thought of her breasts and legs sometimes and then the heat would start in his groin and he’d feel uncomfortable. God, how he wanted to marry Amy.
The phone rang.
He stared at it a long time.
Six, seven, eight rings.
What if it was Amy? What if she was calling and said that she wanted to know the truth about last night?
“Hello,” he said.
“Jimmy?”
“Yes. This is Jimmy.”
“This is your friend Helen.”
“Hi, Helen.”
“I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m doing fine.”
“Do you remember our talk last night?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And our secret?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And what would happen if you told anybody our secret?”