Blind Spot (31 page)

“This isn’t an either-or thing,” Suki began to argue, then she caught herself and lowered her voice. “You don’t have to pit us against each other. We’re both suffering. We’re all suffering.”

“Perhaps.” Abby pointed toward the door and motioned for Suki to precede her. “This way.”

Suki did as Abby indicated, but turned when they reached the entryway. “Alexa didn’t kill Jonah,” she said softly, “and I have to talk to people, adults as well as kids, to get the information I need to prove she’s innocent.”

Abby held open the front door. “You’re a nice woman, Suki, and I’m sorry for your problems,” she said. “But if I were you, I’d get someone else to do my digging.” At Suki’s surprised look, she added, “The way this town is feeling right now, I don’t think too many people are going to be willing to talk to you.”

Suki drove home, went into her study and closed the door. She dialed Watkins and asked to speak with Lindsey Kern; it was time to establish the veracity of Lindsey’s claim once and for all. A surly officer informed her there had been trouble in Lindsey’s pod and all inmates had been confined to their cells.

“I’m authorized for unrestricted access to Ms. Kern,” Suki explained. “Check with the superintendent’s office, if you have to, but I need to talk to her right away.” Suki couldn’t quite believe she was calling a women incarcerated in a maximum security prison to help her find someone on the outside, but on the other hand, she didn’t have too much to lose.

“We’ll have to get back to you on that.”

“Transfer me to the superintendent’s office, please.”

After a long wait, Rizzo’s secretary finally came on the line. When Suki explained why she was calling, she was immediately switched over to the superintendent.

“It’s not possible for you to talk to Ms. Kern right now,” Rizzo said.

“Is she all right?” Suki asked, thinking of Lindsey’s black eye.

“She’s in solitary at the moment, and in restraints—but it’s all for her own good—Dr.Hollerand expects she’ll be back in her cell before bedcheck.” Dr. Hollerand was the prison physician and a well-known incompetent.

“What happened?”

“I’m really not at liberty to discuss this, Dr. Jacobs, but I can tell you she had some kind of spell before breakfast this morning. According to an officer who was there, she went pretty wild.”

Suki hung up and called Warren Blanchard. Abby Gasner had said Suki needed a front person, and with Lindsey out of the running, it looked like it had to be Warren. Everyone knew and liked Warren, and they would trust Jonah’s uncle.

As the phone began to ring, Suki hoped Darcy wouldn’t answer. But Darcy did. Suki pitched her voice low and asked for Warren.

“He’s at the rec center right now.” Darcy was friendly and open, most likely assuming Suki was a new romantic interest. “But he should be home any time now.”

“That’s okay,” Suki said quickly. “It’s nothing important.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to return your call.” Darcy definitely thought she was a potential date.

“No, really. I’ll—”

“Who is this?” Darcy interrupted. She suddenly sounded cautious, on guard.

“No one,” Suki said quickly. “I’ll catch him some other time.”

“Hey—” Darcy began.

Suki dropped the receiver back into its cradle. Darcy had recognized her voice. She knew it. The poor woman, probably just feeling the full brunt of her grief now that the initial numbness had worn off. Looking for answers. Looking for someone to blame. To hate. How would she cope with the pain and the horror? The emptiness?

Suki sat at her desk, thinking about all she had lost and all she still had. How each hurt in its own way. Her child was still alive, that was true, but Alexa would forever be wounded. Suki forced back the tears that threatened and went upstairs.

Alexa was layering cheeses and vegetables for eggplant parmesan with the speed and agility of a master chef. She flashed a quick smile, then resumed her rapid-fire layering. “I think I’ll go to school tomorrow,” she said. “I’m feeling much better.”

Suki hadn’t yet told Alexa that the boys were turning state’s evidence, and although she knew she must, the thought of Alexa’s spiraling back down into that black depression was, at the moment, just too unbearable. Instead, she told Alexa she thought going to school was a good idea, then she went downstairs to peek in on Kyle. He, as usual, was at the computer, playing Sim Tower instead of writing his English report. She didn’t chastise him, just rested her hand on his shoulder as he added another suite of offices to his building. He watched her warily as she left the room.

Suki wandered back into her study and called Mike. She wasn’t surprised when he was unavailable, nor was she encouraged when Betty promised he would return her call in the next few hours. She placed the phone back in its cradle and stared through the small window over her desk. What else had she wanted to speak to Mike about? She knew she had to talk to him about Alexa, about what the boys’ plea bargain was going to mean, about their counterattack. But there was something else, something tickling at the edge of her brain.

She looked around the room and noticed her briefcase standing in the corner. Lindsey. Of course. She needed to tell him about Lindsey. About her aberrant test scores, about what had, or hadn’t happened at the prison this morning. It crossed Suki’s mind that if she determined Lindsey was indeed insane, she would make more money than she had projected when she expected her verdict to be sanity. Evaluations with conclusions in opposition to the client’s expectations did not result in court testimony—which could run up to ten hours, including pretrial prep, waiting time and testimony. At one hundred dollars an hour, every hour counted.

As Suki calculated how many additional hours this might entail, the phone on the desk rang. She picked it up immediately, hoping it was Mike. But it was Warren. He told her that Darcy had recognized her voice.

“I’m sorry if I upset her,” she said.

“It’s not your fault,” Warren assured her. “She’s having a real tough time. It doesn’t take much to upset her.”

“I bet.”

There was an uncomfortable silence, and then Warren asked, “So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, right,” Suki said, “I called you, didn’t I?” She managed a short laugh, and started again. “Remember the other day when you offered to help me?”

“You’re having a tough time, too, huh?”

Suki knew Warren’s question was rhetorical, so she continued, “I’m calling to take you up on your offer.” Then she quickly explained what Kenneth had told her about the boys’ deal with Teddy Sutterlund.

“Those guys are all slime wads,” Warren said, his voice full of disgust. “What can I do to help?”

Suki described her methamphetamine-witness theory and then told him about her visit to Teen-Scene.

“I’d be glad to help you, Suki,” he said after a long hesitation, “but I can’t imagine that this is the route to go. How likely is it that this witness is connected to the drugs? Seems like a real long shot to me. And, if by some wild coincidence, he—or she—is, then it’s too dangerous.” He paused again. “I suppose the police are useless.”

“Kenneth Pendergast said he’d check around about the meth, but that he’d have to keep it separate from Alexa’s case.”

“Pendergast’s a good guy,” Warren said. “We’ve coached together, and he’s not like the others. I’ll bet he also told you not to do any investigating on your own, didn’t he?”

Suki chuckled despite the bleakness of the situation. “Touché,” she said.

“Well, maybe you should listen to him.”

“As I told Kenneth, I don’t have the luxury.”

“So what are you going to do?” Warren asked.

“I’m going to go out and find the truth,” Suki said, aware as she heard her own words that she sounded self-righteous and rather obnoxious. “I mean, I’ve got to find out what really happened. It’s Alexa’s only chance.”

“But what if no one’s willing to talk to you?”

“Oh, I’ll get someone to talk to me,” Suki said. “I’ll find out what went on the night Jonah was killed. You can bet on it.”

Warren sighed and Suki could hear in the long rush of air that the man was exhausted, worn out by grief—his own and everyone else’s. “Okay,” he said, “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

They made plans for Suki to pick him up at the commuter rail station, as his car was in the shop, discussed a few details, then hung up. Suki stretched her arms to the ceiling and turned around in her chair. She froze.

Alexa was standing in the open doorway. Her cheekbones cast deep shadows over her face, and her skin was so bloodless it was almost translucent. Suki could see a narrow blue vein pulsing next to her right eye. “Am I going to be arrested?” Alexa asked in a hoarse whisper.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

K
yle and Suki had cold eggplant parmesan for breakfast. It was overcooked and chewy. Kyle ate three helpings anyway, indifferent to everything but filling his hollow teenage-boy stomach, while Suki wrestled with sinewy pieces of blackened cheese. Alexa had gone into her room after overhearing Suki’s conversation with Warren last night, and she had not appeared since. Suki knew they had to talk. She was fortifying herself for the encounter with black coffee and burnt provolone.

When Kyle was finally satiated, he pushed back his chair and stood up, sending it to the floor with a crash. He righted the chair and told Suki he had a soccer game after school. “Scott’s mom is taking us to McDonald’s after and Scott said she could bring me home when we’re done.”

Suki ripped another piece of cheese off the top of the casserole and watched Kyle shifting awkwardly, biting the inside of his cheek. The poor kid. All his friends knew what was going on. How bad things were. “She’s quite the supermom,” Suki said. “This Mrs. Fleishman.”

Kyle shrugged. “She just likes soccer.” He worked the toe of his sneaker into the floor, closely observing how the shoe flexed under the pressure.

Suki observed, too. Both the sneaker and Kyle. He seemed taller than the last time she had bothered to notice, thinner, older. Alexa was aging them all. “What is it, honey?” she asked. As if she didn’t know. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothin’,” he said, still engrossed in his foot.

“It’s going to be all right, Kyle. I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to Alexa.”

“It’s not that.”

“I’ve been trying to reach your dad,” she said. “Almost every day. I’m sure he’ll call soon.” Thoughtless, self-centered son of a bitch.

Kyle looked up at her for a second, then looked back down.

“Is it Dad?” Suki felt as if all the nerves in her body were being stretched toward their breaking point. She strained to keep her voice even, not to take out on Kyle what Stan and Alexa had done. “Is that what’s bothering you, honey?”

He shrugged again.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.” Suki was unable to control the frustration that colored her words.

He patted her shoulder. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re a good mom, too.” Then he grabbed his backpack and was gone.

Suki stared at the empty doorway for a long time, then she took a final swig of coffee and slowly climbed the stairs.

Alexa was awake, lying fully clothed on her bed, staring at a piece of black chiffon hanging over her head. She had attached it to the ceiling with masking tape. Alexa didn’t acknowledge either Suki’s knock or her presence when she stepped into the room.

The room smelled faintly of patchouli incense, and Alexa had moved her candle collection from her bookshelves to the floor. An elongated semi-circle, constructed from three dozen candles of varying heights, widths and colors, ringed the bed. The grouping was disturbing. Suki raised her eyes and regarded her daughter. She couldn’t just let Alexa lie here, surrounded by unlit candles and self-pity, contemplating an old piece of cobwebby material.

“Do you feel up to school today?” Suki asked cheerfully.

“Will I be sent to the same prison Lindsey’s in?” Alexa answered.

“You’re not going to prison.” Suki sat down on the bed and took Alexa’s hand. Alexa let her, but the hand lay there, limp and unmoving. Suki put it back down and said, “Honey, you’ve got to believe me, I promise you, I will not let that happen, and neither will Mike Dannow.”

Alexa continued to stare at the ceiling. “Mike Dannow didn’t do a particularly good job of keeping Lindsey out of prison.”

“That was a completely different situation,” Suki said. “And Kenneth Pendergast is working on a lot of angles, too. These are good people who believe in you. Who are going to help you get out of this mess.”

Alexa didn’t respond. The black gauze undulated in the breeze from the open window.

“And I’ve got an idea for how we’re going to get the boys to admit the truth.” Suki said. “You want to hear how?”

Alexa shook her head almost imperceptibly.

“I can’t do this alone.”

Alexa moaned softly and Suki recognized the pain in her eyes: Alexa was thinking of her father. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

“I need you to be there with me,” Suki said. “To help me.”

“I thought you had Mr. Blanchard to help you.”

“Is that what this is all about?” Suki asked softly. Alexa
was
thinking about Stan. As if the kid didn’t have enough to worry about.

Alexa twitched her shoulder.

Suki turned and stared out the window, at the weeds choking her garden, at the asphalt crumbling at the end of the driveway, at the morning sun climbing the sky. “I’m sorry if this is upsetting to you, honey, but the truth is, we need Warren Blanchard. And when I asked him to help, he was nice enough to agree.” The front lawn needed mowing. She turned to her daughter. “We
have
to let him help us, Alexa. We’ve got no choice.”

“I’m afraid,” Alexa whispered.

As a child, Alexa had been overrun with fears. Fear of the night. Fear of fire. Fear of strangers and beaches and swings. Suki and Stan had worked hard to rid her of these anxieties, using Suki’s variation of desensitization and lots of coddling. When, at age twelve, Alexa had taken off by herself down an expert ski slope, Stan and Suki had decided they had been
too
successful.