A Faint Cold Fear (25 page)

He saw her throat move as she swallowed, and he thought for a minute that she might start crying.

He let her hear the concern in his voice. 'Lena,' he said, 'why are you hurting yourself like this?'

She waited a moment before slipping her hands out from under his, tucking them beneath the table and out of sight. She stared at the file, asking, 'What do you have?'

'Lena.'

She shook her head, and he could tell from the way her shoulders moved that she was picking at her hand under the table. She said, 'Let's get this over with.'

Jeffrey left the file closed, instead taking a folded sheet of paper out of his coat pocket. He saw recognition flash in Lena's eyes as he opened the page. She had seen enough lab reports over the years to know what he had in his hand. He slid the page across the table so that it was right in front of her.

He said, 'This is a comparison of a pubic hair we found on the underwear in Andy Rosen's room and a sample from you.'

She shook her head, not looking at the document.

'You don't have a sample from me.'

'I got it from your bathroom.'

'Not today,' she said. 'You didn't have time.'

'No,' Jeffrey agreed, watching realization dawn on her face. Frank had jimmied the lock to Lena's apartment while she was still at the coffee shop with Ethan.

Jeffrey had been ashamed enough about their methods to keep this information from Sara last night, but he had assumed that no one would ever have to know what they had done. He had assumed they were just helping Lena when she would not help herself.

Lena's voice was small in her throat, and he could taste her sense of betrayal like a piece of sour candy.

'That's illegally obtained evidence.'

'You wouldn't talk to me,' he said, knowing how wrong it was to turn this back around like it was her fault. He tried to explain. 'I thought it would clear you, Lena. I was trying to clear you.'

She slid the lab report toward her so she could read it. He saw her start to pick at the scar on her hand again. Guilt twinged in his chest as a drop of blood pooled on the white page.

She glanced at the mirror on the side of the room, probably wondering who was behind it. Jeffrey had told Frank not to let anyone in there, including Frank.

He asked, 'Well?'

She sat back in her chair, her hands beside her, gripping the seat. Jeffrey was glad to see her angry, because it made her seem more like Lena. She said, 'I don't know what you think you have in there' she indicated the file 'but there's no way anything from me matched anything in that kid's room.' She sat up straighten 'And besides, hair isn't admissible. All you can say is that it's microscopically similar, and you know what? Big fucking deal. Probably half the girls on campus test out similar. You don't have dick on me.'

'What about your fingerprint?'

'Where did you find it?'

'Where do you think?'

'Fuck this.' Lena stood but did not leave, probably because she knew that Jeffrey would stop her.

He let her stand there feeling foolish for a while before he said, 'You want to talk about your boyfriend?'

She cut her eyes at him. 'He's not my boyfriend.'

'I didn't think you were into racists.'

Her lips parted, but he could not tell if she was surprised or just trying to think of a way to answer him without giving Ethan away. 'Yeah, well, you don't know much about me, do you?'

'Is he the one who's been spray-painting shit all over campus?'

She snorted a laugh. 'Why don't you talk to Chuck about that?'

'I talked to him this morning. He said he asked you to track down who's been doing it, but you seem to be dragging your ass.'

'That's bullshit,' she said, and Jeffrey did not know whether to believe Lena or Chuck. Two days ago the choice would have been easy. Now he did not know.

'Sit down, Lena.' He waited as she took her time sitting back down. 'You know Ethan's on parole?'

She crossed her arms. 'So?'

Jeffrey could only stare at her, hoping that his silence might will her into being sensible.

Lena asked, 'Is that all?'

'Your boyfriend nearly beat a girl to death in Connecticut,' Jeffrey said. 'How's the shiner, by the way?'

She touched her finger to her bruised eye.

'Lena?'

If she'd been startled by his information, she recovered quickly. 'I won't be pressing charges against the department, if that's what you mean. Accidents happen.'

'Maybe Tessa's stabbing was an accident,' Jeffrey suggested.

She shrugged. 'Maybe.'

'Or maybe somebody didn't like the fact that a white girl was carrying a black man's child.' She did not react. 'Maybe somebody didn't like two Jewish kids on campus.'

'Two?'

'Don't lie to me, Lena. I know you know about Ellen Schaffer.' He tapped the file with his finger. 'Tell me about your boyfriend.'

Lena sat up. 'Ethan wasn't involved in this, and you know it.'

'I do?' he asked. 'Let me tell you what I know, Lena.' He counted the points off on his fingers. 'I know that you were in Andy Rosen's room at one time or another, and I know you lied about it. I know that Andy Rosen and Ellen Schaffer are dead, and I know that both of those deaths were staged to look like suicides.'

Jeffrey paused, hoping she, would say something.

When she did not, he continued, 'I know that Tessa Linton was stabbed by a man with a lean build, close-cropped hair, and no alibi on Sunday afternoon-'

'I saw the attacker,' she interrupted. 'It wasn't Ethan. This guy was taller and had a thicker build.'

'Yeah? Matt's description's a little different from yours, funny enough.'

'This is bullshit. Ethan wasn't involved.'

Tut it together, Lena.'

She found the same hole in the scenario Sara had kept coming back to last night. 'You think somebody staged Rosen's suicide and then just hung around, hoping Tessa Linton would come along to pee so he could stab her? That's fucking stupid.' She paused, gathering her thoughts. 'And who the fuck knows who Tessa Linton is, let alone that she's banging a black guy? I sure as hell didn't know. You think people on campus give a flying fuck what some plumber is up to?' She scowled at him. 'This is a waste of time. You don't have anything.'

'I know you're drinking too much.' He watched her body tense. 'Are you having blackouts now? Maybe there's something you don't remember.'

'I told you I didn't know Andy Rosen,' she insisted.

'Why did you sound surprised on the hill when I said his name?'

'I don't remember that.'

'I do,' he said, tucking the lab report into his pocket.

'What about Chuck?' she tossed out.

Jeffrey sat back, staring at her openly, wondering if she was drinking so much that her brain was going soft. 'Chuck was with you the morning we found Andy Rosen, right?'

She gave a tight nod, her face tilted down so he could not read her expression.

He walked her through it like he was talking to a third-grader. 'And then he was with Andy when Tessa was stabbed.' Jeffrey paused. 'Unless you think he sprouted wings and took off after her and then flew right back when it was all over?'

Lena shot him a look, and Jeffrey thought she must be pretty desperate to be grasping at straws. Of course, desperation came from fear. She was hiding something, and Jeffrey had a pretty good idea what that was.

He turned the file around and opened it on the table in front of her, asking, 'Ethan tell you about this?'

Lena hesitated, but curiosity eventually got the better of her. Jeffrey watched her read through Ethan's arrest jacket. She seemed to be skimming, quickly turning the pages over as she read about Ethan's sordid past.

He waited until she got to the last page before saying, 'His father's some kind of white supremacist.'

She nodded toward the pages. 'It says here he's a preacher.'

'So was Charles Manson,' Jeffrey pointed out. 'So was David Koresh. So was Jim Jones.'

'I don't know-'

'Ethan grew up in the middle of that, Lena. He was raised on hate.'

Lena sat back, her arms crossed over her chest again. Jeffrey studied her closely, wondering if any of this was news to her or if White had already explained, putting his own spin on the story.

Jeffrey said, 'He was charged with assault when he was seventeen.'

'They dismissed the case.'

'Because the girl was too scared to testify.'

She waved her hand at the file. 'He's on parole for kiting some checks in Connecticut. Big deal.'

Jeffrey stared at her, because that was all he could do. He tried to walk her through the evidence. 'Four years ago tire marks from his truck placed him at the scene where a girl was raped and killed.'

'Placed at the scene like I was?' Lena asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

'The girl was raped before she was killed,' Jeffrey repeated. 'Sperm taken from her rectum and vagina proved that at least six guys raped her before she was beaten to death.' He paused. 'Six guys, Lena.

That's plenty to hold her down while each guy takes his turn.'

She gave him a blank stare.

'Ethan's truck was there.'

Lena shrugged, but he thought he saw her composure begin to slip.

'That's how they got him to flip, Lena. The tire marks matched his truck. They already knew where to find him, because he was on their sheet for this kind of thing.' He tapped the file. 'You know what he did? You know what your boyfriend did? He ratted out his friends so he could save his own ass, and, like every good rat, he admitted he was there, but he swore on a stack of Bibles he didn't touch her.'

She said nothing.

'You think he just sat in that truck, Lena? You think he just sat there while everybody else was taking their turn? Or do you think he was out there getting his piece? You think he helped hold her hands down so she couldn't scratch them? Maybe he helped keep her feet apart so they could get a better angle, or maybe he had his hand over her mouth so she couldn't scream.'

Still she was silent.

'Let's give him the benefit of the doubt, though.

You wanna do that?' Jeffrey asked. 'Let's say he sat in his truck. Let's say he just sat there watching them rape her. Maybe that was enough to get him off, watching them hurt her, knowing she was helpless and he could save her but he didn't.'

She started to pick at the scar again, and Jeffrey kept his eyes on hers, trying not to watch her hands.

He said, 'Six guys, Lena. How long did that take, for six guys to rape her while your boyfriend sat in the truck watching - if that's what he was really doing, just watching?' Lena was silent. 'And then they beat her to death. Hell, I don't know why they bothered.

By the time they were finished with her, she was bleeding from every place they could fuck her.'

She chewed her lip, looking down at her hands.

Blood was flowing pretty steadily from her palm, but she did not seem to notice.

He let his guard down for just a moment, unable to stop himself. 'How can you protect him?' he asked.

'How can you be a cop for ten years and protect scum like that?'

His words seemed to be striking home, so he continued, 'Lena, this kid is bad. I don't know what it is you've got going with him, but… Jesus Christ!

You're a cop. You know how this kind of asshole can slip around the law. For every piece-of-shit little thing he's been picked up on, there are twelve big things he gets away with.'

Jeffrey tried again. 'His father's spent hard time - federal time for selling guns. We're not talking handguns.

He was trafficking sniper rifles and machine guns.' He paused, waiting for her to say something.

When she did not, he asked, 'Ethan tell you about his brother?'

'Yes,' she said, so quickly that he was sure she was lying.

'So you know he's in prison?'

'Yes.'

'You know he's on death row for killing a black man?' He paused again. 'Not just a black man, Lena.

A black cop.'

Lena stared at the table, and he could tell she was shaking her foot, though who knew if it was from nerves or anger.

'He's a bad kid, Lena.'

She shook her head, though she had enough proof in front of her. 'I told you, he's not my boyfriend.'

'Whatever he is, he's a skinhead. It doesn't matter if he let his hair grow out and changed his name. He's still a racist bastard, just like his father, just like his cop-killing brother.'

'And I'm half spick,' she shot back. 'You ever wonder about that? What's he doing with somebody like me if he's a racist?'

'That's a good question,' he told her. 'You might want to ask yourself that the next time you look in the mirror.'

She finally stopped picking at her palm and pressed her hands together on the table in front of her.

'Listen,' he began, 'I'm only going to say this once.

Whatever you're messed up in, whatever it is with this kid, you need to tell me. I can't help you if you get yourself dug into this any deeper.'

She stared at her hands, not speaking, and he wanted to grab her and shake her, to make her say something that made sense. He wanted her to explain to him how she could be mixed up with a nasty piece of shit like Ethan White, and then he really wanted her to tell him that it was all some kind of big misunderstanding and that she was sorry. And that she was not going to drink anymore.

What she said was, 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

He had to try again. 'If there's something you're not telling me about all this…,' he said, hoping she would fill in the rest. Of course she did not.

He tried a different tactic. 'There's no chance you'll get back on the job with this guy around your neck.'

She looked up, and for the first time in a while he could read her expression loud and clear: surprise.

She cleared her throat, like she was having trouble finding her voice. 'I didn't know that was an option.'

Jeffrey thought about her working for Chuck now, and the situation rankled as much as it had the first day he had heard about it. 'You shouldn't be working for that jerk.'

'Yeah, well,' she said, her voice still low. 'The jerk I was working for before kind of made it obvious I wasn't wanted.' She looked at her watch. 'Speaking of which, I'm late for work.'