“What the fuck is this all about?”
“I just need to know.”
Richie frowned, shook his head. “Of course I didn’t fucking kill her, man. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“Technically, I shouldn’t ask you that question. Most lawyers don’t want to know if their clients are guilty or not. But I figure it helps me. Knowing, I mean. If they’re innocent, I handle it one way. If they’re not, I handle it another way.”
“Well, I’m innocent.”
“Great. So what did you do when you got home?”
“Went to bed.”
“Right away?”
“Right away.”
“No phone calls.”
“No.”
“Any snacks?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember shit about any of this, do you, Richie?”
“Some of it, I do.”
“You remember actually getting home?”
“Yeah. Because I had to break one of the panes in the front door.”
“Oh?”
Richie held up his right hand and showed O’Brien the long scratches on his knuckles.
“The police see those?”
“Yeah.”
“They ask you about them?”
“Uh-huh. Sam did.”
“Sam’s a good man.”
“I’m glad you like him so much.”
“You’re a real hothead. You’ll want to watch that, Richie. You pull shit like this in front of a jury, you’re dead.”
At the word “jury,” Richie felt molten acid work its way up his stomach to his throat.
“I’m hoping this won’t get as far as a jury.”
“So am I, Richie. But that’s generally good advice whether you go to court or not. Your temper, I mean.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
“Yeah, you said that.”
Richie wanted to hit him. Plant his fist right in the middle of that smug, patrician face.
“Your biggest trouble is you don’t have any alibi.”
“Amy said you were gonna be this big help. You aren’t helping me for shit.”
Richie looked around the large office. Everywhere you looked — walls, desk, table, atop the glass-and-mahogany bookcases behind O’Brien — everywhere you looked, O’Brien had pictures of his kids.
Little towheaded boy, little towheaded girl. Richie wanted to be his kid. You’d have it made, being his kid. He’d spoil you rotten, you’d live in one of those big-ass new houses out at the big-ass yuppie enclave that was turning Crystal Falls into a bedroom community, and you’d have all the goodies you ever wanted. Plus, the kind of social circles you ran in, you’d be bopping all those sweet little rich girls who had a treasure chest of jewels and diamonds between their legs.
O’Brien sighed. “Your sister’s a damned nice woman, Richie.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“So I agreed to help her.”
“You want a medal?”
“No, but what I do want is you to help me. I can’t do this by myself. You’ve got a big problem here, Richie, and you giving me all this macho bullshit isn’t helping me at all.”
“I didn’t kill her.”
O’Brien leaned forward. “Richie, personally, I don’t give a shit if you killed her or not. That’s not the issue here.”
“It isn’t?”
For the first time, Richie began to suspect that for all his slick, sleek ways, O’Brien was not a candy-ass after all. There was a hard, almost cold intelligence at work here.
“No. The issue is can we prove you didn’t kill her.”
“I said I didn’t.”
“Richie, for God’s sake, listen to me. It’s not enough that you say it. We have to have some proof. Can you remember talking to anybody on the phone last night?”
“No.”
“Can you remember watching TV at all?”
“TV?”
“Yeah. If you got home around nine, maybe you stayed up and watched the news.”
Richie shook his head. “I’m not much of a news watcher.”
“So you drove straight home—”
“And went to bed.”
“Did Sam ask you which route you took to get home?”
“Yeah.”
“And you said—”
“I said I took the old bridge.”
“Which was,” O’Brien said, “washed out at the time.”
Richie felt his cheeks burn. This was like sitting in the principal’s office and having him humiliate and degrade you for a full period.
“You have any idea which way you took home?”
Richie shrugged. “There are only two other choices. I obviously took one of those.”
“Your knuckles.”
“Yeah?”
“Sam check out the windowpane you said you smashed?”
“Yeah, he did.”
“He say anything about it?”
“Just wrote something in his little notebook.”
O’Brien sighed again. “The Fullers are two of the most important people in this town, Richie.”
“Tell me about it.”
“They’re going to want this case resolved very quickly, and that means they’ll grab at the first guy who looks right for it.”
Richie watched his hand. The trembling was back. “And I look right for it?”
“You didn’t invite her to Riley’s last night?”
“Hell, no. It was a complete surprise.”
“She always follow you around like that?”
“We played a lot of games.”
“You ever heard of the term ‘jailbait’?”
“I didn’t sleep with her.”
“You ever kiss her?”
“Yes.”
“Do anything more?”
“Felt her up a little.”
O’Brien didn’t look happy. “Anybody ever see you making out?”
“Not that I know of.”
“How about the country club? They know what was going on between you two?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. We were very careful.”
He almost gagged on his own words. They were lies. They’d taken all kinds of reckless chances.
Richie said, “It doesn’t look so good, huh?”
“We just need to get our defense together. We just need to have you remember a whole hell of a lot more about last night. Does it usually come back to you?”
“Most of it.”
“Close your eyes.”
“Huh?”
“Close your eyes and concentrate.”
Richie did as he was told. “Do you have any recollection at all of seeing Darcy after you left Riley’s last night.”
“No.”
“Don’t say it so quickly. Think as hard as you can.”
There was... something.
Something that whispered to him... but he couldn’t quite hear the words. Just the faint hissing of the whispers themselves.
Something...
“Shit,” Richie said.
“Well, keep at it. That’s the important thing.” He shot his sleeve and looked at his watch. “I’m due in court in ten minutes.”
“Then that’s it? That’s all the time I get?”
Richie knew that he sounded like a small, helpless child who’d just been deserted, but he couldn’t help it.
“Richie, I’m sorry. I know you’re scared. But I’ve got to go. Call me later this afternoon and we’ll talk some more.”
Richie reached out his hand.
Looking surprised, O’Brien joined his hand with Richie’s and they shook.
“I’m sorry I was such a prick to you,” Richie said. “I... it’s just the way I am sometimes.”
“You don’t owe me any apologies, Richie. I’d probably be just as angry as you are if I woke up and found myself in this mess.”
“I really have to rely on you helping me, Tom. You’re my only hope.”
Richie could hear the tears in his voice, feel them in his eyes. He’d never cried in front of anybody before. Not even Amy. Ever.