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Will watched John sit uncomfortably. He was still handcuffed. His expressions moved through anxiety, anger, and dreaminess. This was the sweet boy with the fine singing voice, now an adult under arrest. Will shook his head.
The interrogation room door opened and Diane Henderson stepped inside. She was dressed in jeans and a peach-striped shirt, carrying a tan portfolio. She pulled up a chair across from John and sat. They could only see her back. Will imagined that Cindy was frantically trying to get a good criminal lawyer. They didn’t have much time.
Henderson started a tape recorder, gave the date, location of the interview, suspect’s name, and her name and badge number. She Mirandized John again as he stared down. He mumbled that he understood his rights. Then she slowly laid out sheets of paper like playing cards. Soon they covered the table.
“Do you recognize the photographs, John?” Her voice was calm and almost motherly. It was obvious from his face that he was surprised by the images.
He managed, “Do you know who my dad is?”
Will wanted to melt into the floor.
“I do,” she said. “How about answering my question.”
“I know what they are. Can you take off these handcuffs? They’re really uncomfortable.”
She ignored his request. “So tell me what they are?”
“They’re me and Kristen.”
“Kristen Gruber.”
He nodded.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” He stared angrily at her in a face that looked alien to Will.
“Who took them?”
“She did.”
“When?”
He hesitated, then told her: last fall.
“So you knew her?”
“We were friends.”
“Some of these show you naked in her bed,” Henderson said. “Looks like you were more than friends. Why didn’t you tell me this the last time we talked?”
He stared down. She prompted him with his name.
“I was scared,” he said. “She and I had a fling.”
“Last fall?”
“Yeah, last fall.”
Will felt acid boring a hole in his stomach.
“So you picked her up? What? She was a good deal older than you, and a celebrity to boot. Why would she want a kid like you?”
He didn’t answer.
“I’m about her age,” Henderson said, her tone changing from sympathetic to mocking. “I can’t imagine a bigger turn-off than some baby barely out of his acne stage…”
“She picked me up, okay!” He wiggled in the chair, trying to find a comfortable position without success.
