Page 90 of Dying to Meet You
“Wait. At Mick’s Rock Café?” My heart starts thudding even harder.
“The police are all over that. Plus, they keep asking me why I turned off my phone that night. But I always turn it off on gig nights. You don’t need it vibrating or whatever in the middle of a set. They still think it’s suspicious. They keep asking who else I saw on my break. When exactly did I leave, and when did I come back? We took an hour between sets. They also find that suspicious.”
“Anhour,” I whisper. “Shit.”
He sighs.
“Do you have a lawyer?”
“Sure. You know—a public defender. He says if they charge me, the police will have to share whatever they’ve got. Then we can try to find proof that I couldn’t be the one responsible. I’m just hoping they figure it out themselves first.”
My hand finds its way into my bag, and my fingers close around the card Beatrice gave me. “This is a good lawyer. Maybe you need more help.” I offer it across the barrier, and Harrison reaches for it.
“Ma’am,” a nearby guard says abruptly, “you can’t give him anything.”
Harrison drops his hand. “Honey, the truth is I can’t afford it anyway. Thank you for the thought.”
Honey.
I tuck the card back into my bag. “What if I called her for you? Just to ask how much it is. Natalie would want me to.”
He props his chin on a hand and gives me a gentle look. “Can we just talk about Natalie instead? I’ve probably only got a few minutes left. What does she like? What does she do for fun?”
“Um...” My mind whirls at the sudden change in topic. “She’s smart, but not too smart to spend a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom, working on makeup techniques and chatting with her friends on the phone. Ice cream is her favorite treat. She gets straight As, but if you askher about her college plans, she runs out of the room. She uses a lot of words that I don’t understand. Last week she told me my outfit was ‘drip,’ and she meant it as a compliment.”
His sudden smile breaks my heart.
“She is shockingly competent. She can find anything on Google. She went through a poetry phase last year, and some of it was breathtaking. She makes really good bruschetta. But she doesn’t ever rinse a dish if she can just leave it in the sink. And her dirty socks are just everywhere. All over the house.”
His grin slips a little, and I can’t imagine having to ask someone else what my own daughter is like.
And now my throat is closing up again. “Is there anything you want me to tell her for you?”
He drops his head. “God, I can’t imagine there’s anything I have to say that she needs to hear. But I have a favor to ask. I wouldn’t, I swear. But there’s nobody else...”
We lock eyes for a second, and my heart quavers. “What?” I rasp.
“I have a cat, and my three roommates are mostly strangers to me. I’m worried they’ll forget to feed her. Could you, uh, go to my place and grab her? The animal rescue is in Westbrook. They would take her back. She’s a good girl. And if the hearing doesn’t go my way, I’ll go back to prison...”
I swallow hard. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I need your address.” I pull out my phone and make a note, while he rattles off an address.
“The cat’s name is Zoe. There’s a soft-sided pet carrier in my room. If Rick answers the door—he’s the nicest one—maybe you could also grab my bass. It’s the only valuable thing I own, and I also keep my most important stuff in the case. Like my bankbook.”
I look up from my phone. “All right. Natalie can hold on to it for you.”
“And if I don’t get out of here next week?” He looks away. “Just... don’t let Natalie come to see me. Not here. If she wants to write me a letter—great. But I don’t want her anywhere near this place.”
“Okay,” I say quickly. “Sure.”
He rubs his forehead like it pains him. “Tell her I’m fine, okay? And I’m so sorry.”
My eyes feel hot again. “I’ll tell her. I promise.”
32
Natalie
With the help of the FriendFinder app, Natalie locates her mother in the tiny park on Exchange Street. She’s sitting on a bench, holding a cup from Bard Coffee and talking to a stranger in a denim skirt and big owl-shaped glasses.
