Chapter 34 - The Woman of the House

The cop at the front desk nods to Officer Ryan while he leads me into the station. We walk through a door on the right that spits us out into a larger area that’s filled with rows of desks. It smells like bad coffee and cheap aftershave. A cluster of officers standing by a filing cabinet fall silent as we walk by.

“After you,” Officer Ryan says as he opens a door on his right.

Inside, there’s a metal table in the middle of the room with two chairs on either side.

“Go ahead and have a seat,” he says.

The lump in my throat grows. My hands are shaky at my sides and my feet feel like cinder blocks beneath me. This doesn’t feel routine, like Officer Ryan said it would be. This feels like I’m a suspect being brought in for questioning. I try not to panic, but my insides are shaking and my heart is beating so hard it feels like it might jump out of my chest.

“What did you say this was—”

“Someone will be right with you.”

With that, he closes the door, leaving me alone in the interrogation room.

The light above me buzzes from the electricity flowing through it. White cement bricks line the walls, and the room is bare aside from a clock over the door. A chill starts at the top of my neck and wiggles its way down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself to warm up, but it doesn’t help. I shift my weight in the stiff metal seat. It’s no use trying to get comfortable. I stare at the clock on the wall. The second hand refuses to move.

I pace around the room. First, to warm up. Then, to keep my mind from wandering. I don’t have a lawyer, but I wonder if I should. No, only guilty people need lawyers. I didn’t do anything wrong. Helen was old and more than halfway to death when Frances and I visited her. Her lungs gave out, simple as that. I pull my phone out of my pocket to call Brian, but there’s no service. Coming here was a mistake.

So get up. Go ahead and leave.

I grab my purse off the chair and grab the door handle. It’s locked. The cement walls inch toward me. I try the handle again, but it just rattles in my sweaty palm. The chill I had a few moments ago is gone. Now, heat is emanating off my body. The walls are getting closer and closer.

Get out of here. Now.

“Hey! Hey!” I scream as I bang on the door. “Someone let me out of here! Can anyone hear me? I said let me out—” The door flies open and I almost fall into Officer Shepard.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Mrs. Crawley. You all right?” He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “I’m sorry about the wait. Please, have a seat.” He motions to the metal table and chairs in the middle of the small room.

The walls are back where they’re supposed to be, but my heart is still trembling in my chest.

“Why was the door locked?” I ask, still standing.

“You know, we’ve been meaning to get that fixed. It’s a finicky thing,” he says with a small laugh. When I don’t move from the doorway, he raises his eyebrow. “This will only take a few minutes.”

I want to storm out of the station like I know Frances would, but I’m too afraid of what it might mean if I leave right now. Officer Shepard’s gaze leads me back to the other side of the table, where I sink into the metal seat like a wounded animal.

“How can I help?” I try to sound relaxed, but I’m failing. My eyes stay on the door.

“We’re still checking out the nurse and her alibi. Thanks again for that, by the way.” He sits down and opens up a pile of paperwork in front of him.

“Sure. Anything I can do to help.” I sit on my hands to keep them from shaking.

“You know, it’s good to hear you say that.” Officer Shepard clicks his tongue and snaps his fingers. “Because we’d like to collect a sample of your DNA.”

“My what?”

“Today.”

“Why do you need my DNA?” The room is getting smaller again.

“It’s routine.”

“That’s what the other guy said.”

“It’ll only take a minute. Darlene!” Officer Shepard leans over in his chair and yells out the partially opened door.

“I don’t understand. I was just visiting Helen that day. We talked for a little while and then I left.”

Shut up. Don’t say another goddamn word.

“It’s the nurse’s DNA you should be getting. Not mine.”

You’re going to make things even worse, you idiot.

My voice echoes in the small room. Officer Shepard nods along with me, but something tells me he isn’t in agreement. He’s waiting for me to say something I’ll regret. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying anything else.

A few seconds later a woman in brown slacks and a black polo comes in. Darlene. She places a vial on the table in front of me and removes a large Q-tip from a wrapper.

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” I say, wanting to hold up my hand to stop her, but falling short.

“Well, it is voluntary,” Officer Shepard says. His swollen forearms are piled on top of each other like overstuffed throw pillows. Darlene looks from me to Officer Shepard. I know it will just be worse if I refuse. I nod. Darlene shoves the Q-tip in my mouth and skims the side of my cheek. The cotton swab rubs against the indentation my teeth just made. When she’s done, she puts the Q-tip in the vial and leaves the room almost as quickly as she entered. “Very good,” Officer Shepard says.

“What happens now?” I ask as Officer Shepard makes some notes in the paperwork in front of him.

“You’re free to go,” he says.

As I get up from my seat, the room slants. I steady myself against the metal table. It’s cool on my damp hands.

“Mrs. Crawley, is everything all right?”

I nod. When I close my eyes to escape the dizziness, I see her. Her shoulders are hunched and her head is tilted to the side at an unnatural angle. Water drips from the ends of her stringy hair and seaweed hangs from her bony body. The whites of her eyes are wide and bulging, and her mouth, a black hole, hangs open. She’s screaming, but I don’t hear her cries—I feel them in the pit of my stomach. I stumble backward against the wall. When I open my eyes, Officer Shepard is standing in front of me. His hands are wrapped around my forearms, steadying me.

“I’m fine!” I yell, shaking him off. “I’m fine,” I say again as I walk out of the room.

The cops who were huddled together when I walked in are at their desks with their ears perked in my direction. I feel their eyes on my back as I leave.