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“Were they ever involved in anything or with anyone illegal? This isn’t about protecting them,” Eve added.
“They believed in doing the right thing, in setting an example for their children. Grant used to joke about his wild college days, and how he’d once been arrested for possession of some Zoner. How it scared him enough to straighten him out.”
She curled her legs up in a way that told Eve the gesture was habitual, thoughtless. “They didn’t have a strong family base, either of them. It was important to them to make one, and to raise their own children on that base. The closest either of them would have come to doing something against the law was jaywalking or cheering too loudly at one of Coyle’s games.”
“How did you arrange to have Linnie stay the night in their house?”
Jenny shuddered once. She uncurled her legs, sat very straight with her busy fingers twisted tight in her lap. “I . . . I asked Keelie if she’d be able to have Linnie over after school, keep her for the night. A school night. Normally, she didn’t allow sleepovers on school nights. But she was happy to do it, pleased that Matt and I were able to get the suite, have the anniversary celebration.”
“How long ago did you arrange it?”
“Oh, six, seven weeks. We’re not spur-of-the-moment people. But we didn’t tell the girls until the night before, in case something came up. They were so excited. Oh God.” She clutched her belly and began to rock. “Linnie said, she said, it was like a present for her, too.”
“Nixie came here a lot, too.”
“Yes, yes.” She kept rocking. “Play dates, study dates, sleepovers.”
“How would she get here?”
“How?” She blinked. “One of them would bring her, or one of us would pick her up.”
“She and Linnie ever go out by themselves?”
“No.” Her eyes were wet now, and Jenny wiped at them in the same absent way she’d curled her legs up on the cushion. “Linnie would complain sometimes because a lot of her schoolmates were allowed to go to the park by themselves, or to the vids or arcades. But Matt and I felt she was too young to be on her own.”
“The Swishers, with Nixie?”
“The same. We had a lot in common.”
“With Coyle?”
“He was older, and a boy. I know that’s sexist, but it’s the way it is. They kept a tight rein on him, but he could go out with his friends, on his own, as long as they knew where. And he had to carry a pocket ’link so they could check on him.”
“Did he ever get in any trouble?”
“He was a good kid.” Her lips trembled. “A very good kid. His biggest rebellion, that I know of, was sneaking junk food, and Keelie knew about it anyway. He was sports mad, and if he screwed up, they’d limit his activities. Coyle wouldn’t risk not being able to play ball.”
When Eve sat back, Peabody touched Jenny on the arm. “Is there someone we can call for you? Someone you want to be here with you?”
“My mother’s coming. I told her not to, but then I called her back. My mother’s coming.”
“Mrs. Dyson, we’re going to need to talk about arrangements for Nixie.”
“Nixie?”
“You and your husband are her legal guardians.”
“Yes.” She pushed a hand through her hair. “We—they wanted to make sure Nixie and Coyle had . . . I can’t, I can’t think—” She shot off the sofa when her husband came down the curve of the stairs like a ghost.
His body swayed; his face was slack with drugs. He wore only a pair of white boxers. “Jenny?”
“Yes, baby, right here.” She dashed toward the stairs to enfold him.
“I had a dream, a terrible dream. Linnie.”
“Shh. Shh.” She stroked his hair, his back, staring over his shoulder at Eve as he bowed his body to hers. “I can’t. I can’t. Please, can’t you go now? Can you go?”
7
