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“You make an imaginary sexual complaint against me—”
“Prove it. It’s your word against mine.” He leans back again, crosses his hands behind his head. “All of it is your word against mine.”
Then suddenly the door opens, and I’m thinking,Finally. Thank God.For a moment there, I was seriously concerned it wasn’t working. That it really would all end up being his word against mine.
Geoff is on his feet. “June, I said—”
“I think we’ve heard enough!” the dean bellows. Behind him are the four committee members, and Steve too. He gives me a thumbs-up.
“You’re fired, Geoffrey,” the dean yells. His face is red with anger. “Effective immediately. Get out. Now.”
“Me? No! Roy! Come on, man! Why?” Geoff is looking from one person to the other like he’s going to cry, and I start to laugh. I can’t help it. I think it’s my nerves, the tension uncoiling.
“They’ve heard everything, Geoff!” I say finally. “No, wait, theywatchedeverything.”
“We’ll refer the matter to the police immediately,” the dean adds.
“That’s right! I set you up!” I raise my hand. “Sorry, probably not fair to complain of you doing it to me, then to do it right back at you, but there you go. I told the panel—actually, June did—that you had a video for them to watch before the formal interview.”
I give a little bow in Steve’s direction. “My cellphone is positioned on the shelf to your right, see? It’s streaming everything directly to that giant video screen mounted on the wall in the admin building. You know the one. I don’t think your interview is going too well, Geoff, by the way. Just saying. Oh my god! You should see your face!”
I’m still laughing when I realize everyone is looking at me now. Even the dean. “Would you like a glass of water, Anna?” he asks.
I cough, tap my chest. “No, thank you. Sorry.” I quickly wipe tears off my face.
Geoff is closing and opening his fists and for a moment I think he’s going to spit at my feet. Then June pops her head in and says.
“The police are here.”
“Already?” I turn back to Geoff. “Wow, impressive. That wasveryfast. I told you it was against the law. Or maybe I didn’t, I can’t remember. Anyway.” I check off my fingers one by one. “Assault. Taking an intimate photo without the person’s consent,anddistributing it. Spiking your colleague’s drink for nefarious purpose. Vandalizing private property—that’s my car by the way. Am I missing anything? Well, off you go, Geoff, what are you waiting for? Go on, hands in front of you for the handcuffs. You know the drill.” My voice is rising with every word, sounding increasingly hysterical. I’m about to shout, “Come on in! He’s all yours!” when June tugs at my sleeve.
“They’re here for you.” Then, eyebrows knotted, she mouths,Sorry.
I freeze, turn around slowly and come face to face with Detective Jones.
Thirty-Seven
They just wanted to talk to me, they said. Detective Jones and the other one, Detective Dalloway, a woman with short black hair and a scar over her top lip. I wonder if it’s the same one who interviewed Luis the other day. I let myself be led away, head bowed, cheeks flushed with humiliation. I followed, obedient and meek and so frightened it made my legs feel like rubber, and was put into the back of a black sedan that stank of stale cigarettes.
They have brought me to a small room with white walls and a plastic table. They both introduce themselves even though I know who they are already. It’s for the camera, Jones says. He asks me to do the same.
“My name is Anna Sanchez,” I say, my voice shaky. “Am I under arrest?” I ask finally, staring at the manila folder on the table.
“No,” Jones says. “We just have a few questions. Just a few things to clear up and you’ll be out of here in no time. Would you like a lawyer present?”
A lawyer? I feel faint. I ask for a glass of water. There’s a water fountain in the corner of the room and Dalloway fills up a white plastic cup for me. I drink it and some of it dribbles on my chin, like my mouth can’t function properly.
They wait, patiently, while I try and think if I want a lawyer. Everybody says you should have one, no matter what, but I don’t know where to get one. I consider asking to call Luis, but I desperately want to know what this is about first, and didn’t Jones just say I’ll be out of here in no time? That doesn’t sound like I’m in any trouble. It sounds like they need my help. I just need to remember that’s why I’m here. To help. I’m fabulous at helping. I’m a team player.
“No, I don’t need a lawyer. What did you want to ask me?” I say, my voice stronger now that I’m on familiar territory, rallying to the cause.
“I should tell you first that we’re now conducting a murder investigation around the death of Ms. Wilcox.”
My heart skips a beat. I wonder how many I have left, how many more I can skip before my heart gives up completely. I stare at him, replaying the words in my mind. “You think she was murdered?”
“Mrs. Sanchez, you said the last time you saw Isabelle Wilcox was on the Friday when you and your husband hosted a small dinner party.”
I think of June’s sad face as I walked out.Sorry.
