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“Just buzz when you’re done.” He nodded toward a button on the wall, and then he let himself out. A moment later, a bolt thudded home.
For a moment, Dalton sat there, shoulders curling in, and the pose made Auggie think of a crushed bug.
Then John-Henry stood. “I’m going to step outside, Mr. Weber. These men have some questions for you. As always, you have the right to refuse to answer them.” John-Henry gave Theo and Auggie a last look, and Theo nodded. John-Henry let himself out of the room, and Auggie had that feeling again of the silence tightening around them.
Auggie broke it. “Mr. Weber, we’d like to ask you some questions.”
Dalton’s eyes flicked toward him. Then they came back to Theo before sliding away again.
“They’re about Leon,” Auggie said. “We spoke to Leon’s father, and he said something we didn’t understand. We’re hoping you can help us.”
“Dalton,” Theo said, “are you listening?”
Auggie fought the urge to dry his hands on his jeans. “Do you know anything about Leon meeting an older man? Another older man, I mean. Not you.”
Seconds ticked past. Theo leaned forward and said, “You’re making a mistake right now. The best thing you can do is answer our questions.”
“I’m not talking to you,” Dalton said. His voice was constricted, like he could barely get the words out. “You piece of shit.”
Theo let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry for what happened.” He stopped and started again. “I’m sorry for what I did. I crossed a line.”
Dalton let out an indignant squeak. He sat a little straighter, and a hint of color came back into his face. “You’re sorry?”
“I know that doesn’t—”
“You put my head in a fucking toilet!” The words exploded out of him, and they kept coming. “And now I’m here! Do you know what it’s like here? I can’t think. I can’t think!” And then, like he couldn’t hold the rest back: “I’m going to die in here!”
Theo looked down. The light from the fluorescents left little crescent shadows under his eyes. Not deep shadows. Barely anything at all, really.
“Mr. Weber—” Auggie tried.
“You’re sorry?” Dalton said. “You’re so fucking sorry? You’ve got to get me the fuck out of here!”
“Mr. Weber—”
“Tell them I didn’t kill that girl! Tell them I didn’t do anything!”
“Shut up!” Auggie barked.
Dalton pulled his head back, the movement oddly snakelike. The cuffs rattled on their chain. Theo looked over to examine Auggie.
“Shut up,” Auggie said again, leveling out his voice, “and listen to me very carefully. You think what Theo did to you was bad? You didn’t like getting pushed around a little? You didn’t like getting a swirlie? What do you think is going to happen when you get convicted of murder, Dalton? For murdering a teenage girl to cover up the fact that you were molesting a teenage boy?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Do you know what they do to guys like you in prison? They’re going to cut your dick off and choke you to death with it. That’s not an exaggeration. They might rape you to death while they’re at it. That’s your future if you don’t get your head straight right now.”
Dalton stared at him. The hint of color had drained away, and his lower lip trembled. Theo was still staring, and then, to Auggie’s horror and surprise, his eyes crinkled at the edges.
Before Theo could ruin everything, Auggie said, “Merlin Purdue said he warned his son to stay away from, quote, ‘that kiddie-diddler.’”
“I told you,” Dalton said, “I never touched Leon. He slept at my apartment. He was sweet. But we never did anything!”
It was the way Dalton said it, the shrill protest, the indignant raise of his chin, that gave him away. Betrayed by his own dramatic talent, Auggie thought. He tried not to roll his eyes.
“You’re dodging the question,” Theo said. “Which means you do know something. You know we’re not asking about you. We’re asking about someone else. Who did Leon meet?”
The change came again—one costume discarded, another pulled on. Dalton shrank in his seat and shook his head.
