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“What do you mean?”
“Have the cops been around to visit you?”
“That detective, the one that gave me such a hard time back when it happened, came by when I was out. Remember her?”
“Yeah, I remember her. So if she’s coming to see you, have your guard up.”
“I’m not reading you, Greg.”
There was a pause. “It could be a trap.”
“A trap?”
“Yeah.”
I stood and walked out of the kitchen and to the living room window, wondering if Jayne was out front. “What do you mean, a trap?”
“Look, the odds that it was really Brie are like a million-to-one, right? But I’m thinking, you’re supposed to think it’s her.”
“And who would want to make me think that?”
“The police. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that you did it. That you did something to Brie.”
“For fuck’s sake, Gre—”
“Hear me out, man. But that’s what this detective has always believed. So, if Brie suddenly shows up, that’s designed to put you on edge. Throw you off your game.”
“Greg, you can’t—”
“I’m almost done. If you’re the killer, suddenly you start doubting yourself. You go check and see if the body is where you left it. Like, say, in some concrete foundation or in the wall of a building. And when you do, bam! Hardy’s waiting for you like Columbo.”
I sighed. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Agreed. But I bet they’re watching you. Probably got a tracker on your car. And they’re clever, letting it be your old neighbor who sees her. Knowing he’ll call you. Maybe he’s even in on it.”
I said nothing.
“You still there?”
“I’m still here.”
“The thing is, Andy, I’ve got your back. Always have, always will. No matter what you’ve done.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
There was silence at the other end.
“Greg?”
“You don’t remember,” he said.
“Don’t remember what?”
“I mean, it’s not a surprise that you wouldn’t. You were so shit-faced at the time.”
I remained at the window, wondering if Jayne was still on the property, or whether she’d gone for a walk.
“What are you talking about?” I was starting to lose patience with my friend.
