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“What were you supposed to do for your brother, Ms. Boswell?”
Hesitation flashes through her eyes, making me pray extra hard.
“He had me ask Jacob if he could borrow his car. I didn’t know why at the time. I guess it’s obvious now, but…anyway, supposedly he used Jacob’s car to run an errand. When he got back, he told me to take Jacob’s car and go to this food truck that parks out on the highway. He said to drive there, order something, and then leave. That was it.”
“Just show up and then leave?”
“Yes. He said to park in back, order some food at the front window, and then leave when we got it.”
“Anything else you were supposed to do?”
Reagan’s pretty blonde hair ripples as she shakes her head. “No.”
“And he didn’t tell you what the errand was about?”
“No.”
“So, you left the house that day intending to carry out his instructions, but then Officer Blum pulled Jacob over?”
“Right.” Reagan surprises me with a direct look. “I’m sorry, Ms. Carpenter. For getting Jacob in trouble. I promise you, he didn’t know about any of this until last night. He only never mentioned Alex because I begged him from the start not to.”
My mind reels, and I try to smile at her. The truth is, the simmering anger is bubbling up. How dare she. These last weeks…the misery. The fear.
And Jacob? The dogged insistence on lying. On one level I get it—love. On the other, I can barely keep from yelling my frustration. How darehe?
She continues. “I assumed Alex had put something in the car, or that maybe I’d be picking something up, but I didn’t know anything for sure.”
“Given your brother’s history and activities, you had to suspect drugs were involved?”
“Yes. But not the gun. And I had no clue about any shooting!”
Jacob swings his head. “Why’d you say anything, Rea? Now you’re going to be in trouble. You can’t go to jail with our baby!”
Reagan winces. “I’ll be okay, Jake.”
My fingers press into my thighs. The baby. Surely it’s the baby making my son talk crazy right now. No, jail isn’t a place for a woman with child—but it isn’t a place for my son, either. Murder? I shake my throbbing head.
“We’re not after your girlfriend, Carpenter, and thanks to her, you probably get to go home for dinner tonight.” Detective Little shifts back to the young woman I’m increasingly disliking. “I do have one more question, however. Is it correct, Ms. Boswell, that you were contacted by the district attorney’s office this morning and granted full immunity?”
What?
Reagan nods, hands still twisting in her lap.
“Then can you explain why you still walked in here today and lied? You seem to care about this young man, so lying doesn’t quite make sense to me. One word from you and your boyfriend could have been absolved.”
Yes…why? Why let Jacoblie?
I can’t see his face, but I feel confusion overtake him.
Detective Little folds his arms and waits.
Reagan nests her arms over her stomach. “I…was afraid. I didn’t—don’t—want Alex to know I talked.”
“Do you think your brother would hurt you? Because you should know, your information means our officers will be picking him up ASAP.”
“No. I’m not worried he’ll hurt me physically, but…” She glances to Jacob’s and my side of the room. “He told me he’d tell.”
“Tell what, Ms. Boswell?”
