Page 93 of The Night the Lights Went Out
Since all three of them knew that she was free to go, she walked out of the interview room, Detective Harrell holding the door open for her—this was Georgia, after all—and almost made it to her minivan before she threw up.
Thirty-one
MERILEE
Lily and Jenna practiced their cartwheels at the public park while Colin climbed on the jungle gym with another boy around his age he’d met on the swings. It was warm for early November, and both boys had discarded their sweaters, hanging them over the pretty picket fence that divided the play area from the grassy one. But Merilee shivered inside her own sweater. Ever since the interview with the police detectives, she’d felt exposed. Laid bare. She was all too familiar with the feeling and remembered how long it had taken to recover the first time. She wasn’t sure if she had the energy to survive it again.
Lindi had met her at home when she’d returned from the police station, and Merilee was too numb to be angry with Wade for calling her. Too upset with herself for calling her parents, which had done nothing except magnify Merilee’s helplessness. Her aloneness. She was on the brink of another depression, like the horrible darkness that had descended after John’s death and her arrest. She’d even considered calling her old therapist but had been unable to break through the inertia to even look for her contact number. She’d thought she’d recovered from John’s death and the aftermath, had moved on, with fading scars. But the wounds she’d sustained were like driftwood from a wreck, resurfacing again and again no matter how much she tried to push them away.
Despite Merilee’s protests, Lindi forced her into an outing to the park, saying the fresh air would help clear her mind as they figured out what to do next. It hadn’t occurred to Merilee until she was parking her minivan at the park that Lindi had included herself in the planning.
Lindi sat next to her on the bench, scribbling in a small notebook everything Merilee told her about the police interview, her handwriting as neat and precise as she was. As if to test Lindi’s limits of friendship, Merilee had told her about John and his death and the accusations that had led to her arrest. But Lindi had just taken notes and nodded when Merilee told her all the charges had been dropped.
“Why are you doing this, Lindi? Your life would be a lot easier if you didn’t associate with me.”
Lindi looked up from her notepad. “Who said I wanted an easy life? People with easy lives are boring. They haven’t had any reason to build their character. And it’s good for Jenna to see me stand up for something I believe in. And to see what real friends are.”
Merilee felt her lips tighten, reminding her of Sugar when things were getting to the point where she might have to show emotion. “Stop or you’re going to make me cry. You don’t even know me, Lindi. Not really.”
“I know you enough. I also know Sugar Prescott and I trust her judgment. She doesn’t like many people, as you know. And the fact that she does like you is enough for me. Not to mention I like you. It’s not every woman who can deal with what you’ve had to face in the last year or so and not be a crumbling mess.”
“Who said I’m not a crumbling mess?”
Lindi’s face was serious. “You’re a lot stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for.”
“I said the same thing to Sugar. After she’d told me a story from her past. It nearly broke my heart to hear it.”
“Yes, well, you and Sugar have a lot in common—not that I’d ever let her hear me say that out loud. There’s a resiliency about you two that I hope I can teach to my daughter. Although I will say you’re sniveling a little bit now—but I’m sure it’s temporary.”
Merilee tried to look stern but ended up laughing instead. “I hope you’re right about this being temporary. Sugar’s going to wear out her lips the way she presses them together in disapproval every time she sees me.”
“Yes, well, she has a point.” She reached down and slid something out of the outside pocket of her computer bag. “Before I forget, here’s the business card of my friend I was telling you about, Cynthia Turlington. She’s a criminal defense attorney. She’s very nice, but very, very good at what she does. You need to call her today.” She tapped her pencil against the notebook. “I don’t like any of this. It’s all circumstantial, but Daniel was a very prominent man. I know they must be itching for an arrest to be made.”
Merilee took the card and stared at it without really seeing it. “I feel so stupid, allowing myself to be interviewed by the police without an attorney. I knew better—I’ve been through this before with John. I had no idea where their questioning was headed—I thought I was just one of the many partygoers who were being interviewed. Just following procedures. Besides, wouldn’t asking for an attorney at that point have made me look guilty?”
“No. It would have made you look smart.”
Merilee sighed. “Okay. I’ll call her. But first I want to head over to Heather’s house and speak with her face-to-face. If I just talk with her, ask her to tell the police everything to clarify all these... misunderstandings—”
“No,” Lindi said, cutting her off. “Absolutely not. I’m not your lawyer, so you can do anything you want. But I am your friend, and I think that’s the stupidest idea I’ve heard since my husband—and father of our young children, I might add—said he’d like to try skydiving. You told me that the police had already questioned her and that her side of things didn’t exactly mesh with yours. I want to give her the benefit of the doubt right now, seeing as how her husband was just found murdered, but I’ve known her too long to believe that she doesn’t know exactly what she’s saying and doing at all times. Even in the throes of grief. You need to be very careful around her is all I’m saying.”
Maybe that was the thought that had been bothering Merilee. The fact that the police had already talked to Heather, and yet her story was different from Merilee’s. There had to be a reason. Weren’t guilt and anger two parts of the grieving process? Maybe Heather was going through those stages now. Still, it shouldn’t be affecting Heather’s memory, especially when what she wasn’t remembering correctly skewed the truth of actual events that involved Merilee.
Lindi bounced the eraser end of her pencil on the notebook. “Oh, one more thing.” She reached down into her large bag, and pulled out a small laptop. “You should shut down all your social media accounts until all this has blown over. Even in family law, I advise my clients to do this. Warring parties usually end up taking the ugly accusations and barbs online for the world to see, and that doesn’t help anybody’s case. Rest assured the detectives in charge of your case are checking out your social media to see what’s there and what people are saying.”
“Oh, well, that should be easy. The only thing I have is a Facebook account, and I haven’t put anything on it except for a profile picture of the kids.”
“I know—I saw that when I friended you. Cute pic. Anyway, we should still shut it down. Trust me—people think Facebook is like picking your nose while driving in your car. You might think you’re alone and anonymous, but you’re not. We can still see you. It’s really amazing what people think is okay to post on someone’s Facebook page.”
She opened up the laptop and typed something onto the keyboard, then waited a moment. She squinted as a page popped up, then moved back. “Are you sure you only have one Facebook account?”
“Yes. I barely use one, so I certainly don’t need more than that.”
“Wellll,” Lindi said slowly, “it appears you have what’s called a ‘fan page,’ too. There’s a link to it right on your personal page. It’s a public page, so anybody can view your photos and posts without you knowing they were there.”
“Are you sure it’s me?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s you.” She placed the laptop on Merilee’s lap and tilted the lid to give Merilee a better view. Merilee stared at the page for a long moment, trying to remember when she’d taken these photos. And when she might have posted them.But she hadn’t.
