Page 45 of What Happened Last Night

Testing the water was one thing. Leaving the house in handcuffs was something else entirely. Something I didn’t need to do. I hadn’t done anything wrong, and while William was smug now, that wouldn’t last for too much longer. All he had done by making further trouble for me was ease my guilt at the thought of telling the police the truth about what he had done. It was almost like he wanted to push my back against the wall and make me tell them what I knew. He really was arrogant to a level I hadn’t even anticipated. He really thought he could pin this on me and that I’d just take it lying down. Well, he was in for a big surprise.

I ignored William and followed Officer Dumont out of the house and to the waiting car. I got in and the officer drove away from the house. I looked back for a moment and saw William standing on the doorstep, grinning to himself. Bastard.

We drove to the precinct in silence, and when we got there, Officer Dumont opened my car door for me and led me through the precinct and back to the interview room all of this nightmare started in. He nodded at me to sit down and then left the room, leaving me to stew. It was working, but not for the reasons I thought he was imagining. I hadn’t killed anyone. I was just terrified of what lies William might have told them.

I didn’t know how much time passed before Officer Dumont returned, but I knew it was a long time. It had to be have been at least an hour, probably much longer. He moved toward the desk and sat down, not offering me anything to drink or giving me any platitudes. It was straight down to business now.

“So, Mrs. Alden, here we are again,” he said.

“Yes,” I replied.

“It appears that last time you were here, you led us in quite a dance,” he said.

I raised an eyebrow, but I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to know where he was going with this, find out exactly how much he thought he knew. I knew enough about these interrogations to know that silence was more often than not my friend. The police left gaps, long, awkward gaps, hoping a suspect would start babbling to fill the silence. I could see how that would work, but most people didn’t live with William. They weren’t used to being in a room with another person and not talking. Especially if they were being goaded. I was. I lived it every single fucking day.

“Now, don’t get me wrong. I understand why you lied,” Officer Dumont continued with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, murder is a pretty serious crime, and you thought you would get away with it, didn’t you? You really thought your husband would keep your secrets and this would just go away. He talked, Mrs. Alden. And this right here is your chance to confess. Tell us the truth yourself, and you will be viewed a little more favorably.”

I snorted down my nose, faking indignation.

“You want me to confess to something I didn’t do? I thought it was your job as a police officer to find out the truth. It seems you don’t much care about that, though. You just want someone to blame,” I said, forcing my voice to come out low and calm.

Inside, I was a wreck, but I thought I was doing a good job of hiding that fact.

“Well, damn. It looks like I owe my colleague fifty bucks,” Officer Dumont said, shaking his head. That threw me, and although I tried not to show it, I’m sure my surprise was evident on my face. Officer Dumont went on. “See, I said you would see sense and tell the truth now, do the right thing. But my colleague said you wouldn’t. She said your type never admit to their mistakes. In fact, she said that somewhere deep down, you probably view yourself as the victim in all of this.”

“Wow. Where did she get her psychology degree? Off the back of a cereal box?” I said sarcastically.

“Harvard, actually, but that’s not the point,” Officer Dumont said. “That’s not the point at all and you know it. The point is you can still turn this around. You can show her that she doesn’t know you at all. You can just tell the truth and have this whole thing over with.”

That sounded nice, but I knew at this point that anything I said would be ignored or disregarded. Officer Dumont had decided I was guilty and there was no point in trying to reason with him. I just had to hope that Detective Del Rey was a bit more analytical and open to hearing the actual truth rather than letting my husband get into his head.

“Where’s Detective Del Rey?” I asked. “You said he wanted to talk to me.”

“He does want to talk to you, but he got caught up in some other business and asked me to have this talk with you,” Officer Dumont said.

A likely story. Detective Del Rey was good. He was having Officer Dumont work me over for a bit first, and then he would come in and offer a sympathetic ear, expecting me to spill my guts. Well, I would, only it wouldn’t be with the confession he was expecting. It would be with the actual truth.

“Well, I’m afraid that just doesn’t work for me. I’ll talk, but only to Detective Del Rey,” I said.

“You might have quite a wait for him,” Officer Dumont said.

“Fine,” I said. “My day is already ruined. What’s another couple of hours?”

Officer Dumont nodded and stood up. He walked away and turned back when he reached the door.

“Are you sure you want to wait for the detective and not just talk to me?” he said.

“Certain,” I said.

He nodded once and left the room. I could feel my insides churning. I was more scared now than I had been since this whole thing started. What if the detective didn’t believe me? What if William was believed simply because he had spoken first? I had to get that thought out of my head. I had to trust that the detective was good enough at his job to sniff out the truth when it was handed to him on a plate.

It hadn’t hit me exactly how much my refusal to speak to anyone except Detective Del Rey had backfired on me until an officer I didn’t recognize had come to the interview room hours after Officer Dumont left. She had told me to follow her and taken me to a holding cell. I had argued with her about going into the cell, and she reminded me that I had choices, and this is the one I had chosen. I could speak to one of the officers if I didn’t want to wait until the morning when the detective was free.

By then, I felt like I couldn’t back down, so I found myself locked in a holding cell with three other women. It was clear to me almost instantly that I didn’t fit in with the cell’s other inhabitants. One of them was drunk and one of them was clearly as high as a kite on drugs. The third woman seemed sober, but she had a mean look about her and communicated in nothing but grunts and curse words.

I soon gave up trying to make the best of the situation and lay down on my bunk and faced the wall. I was scared, more scared than I had ever been in my life, and while I knew exactly what the police were doing here, it was still working. This was clearly intended to show me what prison would be like and remind me that I would never handle it. After an hour of listening to the sober girl swearing and threatening the drunk girl and the drunk girl and the druggie arguing between themselves, I was ready to talk to anyone who was available.

I got off my bunk, keeping my head down, not making eye contact with any of the other women. I shouted to the police officer who sat at a desk down the hallway from the cell. He rolled his eyes and walked toward me.

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