Silent Witness by Richard North Patterson Page B

Softly, Tony asked her, ‘How was it?’
    Sue seemed to consider what answer to give. ‘Hard,’ she said at length. ‘Alison’s father tried to speak, and couldn’t. Her mother looked like someone else.’ For a moment, she stared at the gray linoleum. ‘I’m glad that you weren’t there.’
    â€˜I wanted to be, Sue. Their minister told me not to.’
    Sue looked up at him. ‘I know.’
    The simple phrase resonated with unspoken meaning. Steeling himself, Tony asked, ‘People think I killed her, don’t they?’
    Sue did not flinch. ‘People weren’t talking much,’ she answered, then seemed to decide that this was not enough for a friend. ‘The ones who know you don’t think that. I guess some people don’t know what to think. I mean, it was just last Friday. . . .’
    â€˜It’s unbelievable.’ Sam broke in, and Tony saw that his eyes were suddenly moist. ‘I keep thinking about that night. That we were at the maple grove, safe, while this was happening to you. That if I’d just made you two come with us, it never would have happened. . . .’
    Sue gave him a look of silent remonstrance. But it did not matter: for hours on end, Tony had imagined himself and Alison safe in a parked car with these friends. So recently, he thought, there had been four of them; without Alison, it seemed that the organism that had been two couples had been maimed beyond healing.
    â€˜It’s like a dream,’ Tony said at last. ‘Like maybe tomorrow I can talk to her about it . . .’
    Sam folded his hands in front of him. At length, he said, ‘The papers say you told the cops you found her like that. . . .’
    Tony touched his eyes. ‘Yeah.’
    â€˜Was she . . . dead?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Sam watched him, hesitant. ‘The cops came out to see me, Tony.’
    Tony felt leaden. ‘What did they want?’
    â€˜It was mostly about what happened that night, whose idea it was for us to split up.’ Sam fixed Tony with his clear blue eyes. ‘That prick Dana asked me if you two ever fought. I told him never.’
    Tony exhaled. ‘They know better, Sam.’
    Slowly, Sue nodded. ‘They talked to me too. They wanted to know if Alison ever confided in me about your problems.’
    Tony reddened. ‘Did she?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    Shame made Tony silent: Sue must know how much of that was about whether Alison would sleep with him. He could not bring himself to ask what Alison had said about him, or what Sue had told the police. Then Sue said quietly, ‘It’s okay, Tony. It’s confusing for women, that’s all. She said you were never mean about it.’
    Tony could think of nothing to say. ‘Is there any way you can help things?’ Sam asked. ‘Like, did you see anyone?’
    Tony touched the bridge of his nose. ‘I heard someone in the park, I think running away from Alison’s body. It was too dark to see him.’
    â€˜That’s all?’
    â€˜Pretty much.’ Tony drew a breath. ‘After that, I found her.’
    Sam leaned forward. ‘Look, Tony, maybe we can help you. It could be rough for you around school for a while. If Sue and I know what you told the cops, we can explain things, tell everyone your side of it. This can’t be as bad as the papers made it out.’
    There had been much more talk, Tony realized, than Sue had wished to say. But he should have expected this in Lake City: there was never an unwed girl whose pregnancy was not followed avidly, to the moment of delivery, or whose prior ‘affairs’ – swollen in numbers by her supposed teenage lovers – were not recounted by her peers. How much more, then, for a murder. All at once, Tony saw that his weakness was that the folk opinion of the town had rewarded him until now; aware of his own