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Tyler: I don’t know.
Detective Hardy: I imagine your sister would have been devastated. A lot for her to deal with. I wonder if she would have found looking after you more than she could deal with. Maybe she would have to find another place for you to live. Is that what you were thinking?
Tyler: I don’t know what I was thinking. But it wasn’t that. I panicked. That’s why I ran. Maybe I figured that cops like you would find a way to blame me for it so I had to get out of there.
Detective Hardy: It doesn’t look very good for you, Tyler. You were there. You had Ms. DiCarlo’s blood on you. A witness saw you fleeing the scene. Got it on video, even. And you had a reason for what you did. You know what might help, Tyler? If you just got it off your chest. Unburdened yourself. Admit what you did. That you were overwhelmed. That you struck out at this woman, she fell and hit her head on the way down, and she died. I don’t think you ever meant for that to happen. But that’s the way it went down.
Tyler: I swear, I—
There is a knock on the interrogation room door. Questioning suspended.
Hardy exited the room. A uniformed officer was standing there.
“She’s demanding to see you,” he said.
“The sister?”
“That’s right.”
Hardy nodded. “With lawyer in tow, no doubt. Check in on him in there every once in a while. Get him a drink of water or something.”
Hardy found her way to the police station entrance, where Jayne Keeling was sitting alone on a bench, looking at her phone. When she saw Hardy, she tucked the phone into her purse and stood.
“Ms. Keeling,” Hardy said, approaching her.
“How is Tyler?”
“He’s fine.”
“I want you to release him,” Jayne said.
“When I heard you were here I thought you might have brought a lawyer.”
“You can’t hold him. He’s a kid.”
“I’m afraid we can hold him, Ms. Keeling. He’s the prime suspect in a homicide.”
“He didn’t do it,” Jayne said.
“Ms. Keeling, if you love your brother, and it’s obvious to me that you do, the best thing you can do for him is get him legal representation. Like I told you before.”
“You don’t understand,” Jayne said. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why are you here, Ms. Keeling?”
“I’m here to confess,” Jayne said. “Tyler didn’t kill that woman. I did.”
Fifty-Two
Andrew
I sat there, in the woods, until it was clear Matt was dead, then worked my way back to my car. The keys were in it. As I got in, I tucked Matt’s gun into a pocket in the driver’s door, turned the vehicle around, then drove back out to the main road, where I found Norman leaning up against his silver Nissan. I powered down the window.
“Ambulance should be here any second,” he said.
I nodded, like there was still time. “They better hurry,” I said.
“You’re not leaving?” Norman asked.
