Page 19 of One Last Secret

I stand and smile at Celeste again. “I’ll be right back.”

Evelyn takes my place at Celeste’s side. The place is crawling with police officers, so I’m not worried about Evelyn trying anything here, but I still hesitate before following the detective outside.

Instead of leading me outside, though, she takes me up the stairs. We walk into the theater and through there to the schoolroom.

“Trying to get out of this heat,” she explains as she takes a seat.

She's a thick-bodied woman of around forty with a flat face and hair, a cross between a crew cut and a pompadour.

She gestures for me to sit. The only other chair here is Celeste’s school desk, so I reply, “I’ll stand, thank you.”

She shrugs and folds her hand on top of the table. “I’m Detective Andrea Reyes, Monterey Bay Police Department.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Detective. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.”

She smiles slightly. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry that you’re all going through this right now.”

“Me too. Poor Celeste.”

“How has she been?”

“Celeste?”

“Yes.”

She looks at me with the peculiar bored but shrewd expression I’ve seen on the faces of so many police detectives. I wonder if that’s something they train to affect or if it’s just anatural look for the sort of people who gravitate toward police work.

“She’s devastated,” I reply. “Up until five minutes before you arrived, she was hysterical.”

Reyes nods. “Yeah, I can imagine.” She leans back and folds her hands across her midsection. “How long have you worked for Mr. Holloway?”

I chuckle mirthlessly. “This is my second full day.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really. I arrived at nine in the evening two days ago.”

“Hm. And what was your impression of Mr. Holloway?”

I hesitate briefly. I want to help, but I don’t know how much I can say that will be of use to them.

Reyes seems to sense my uncertainty. “Just answer the questions, Mary. I’ll take into account that you didn’t know him well.”

I take issue with her use of the past tense. “Do know him well. Until we know that he’s dead, let’s not assume.”

“Of course. Please answer the question.”

I still hesitate. I have had mixed experiences with police officers, and I fear that what I have to say could predispose them to think that Victor hurt himself. Admittedly, that looks likely to be the case, but I don’t want them to dismiss the possibility of foul play the way the Boston Police dismiss the possibility that Annie could have come to harm and not simply chosen to leave.

Then I remember the painting and the evidence Sean finds of Annie’s arrival in Monterey. It hits me rather hard that the evidence now suggests that Anniedidchoose to leave.

I realize I haven’t spoken yet. With no convenient lie coming to mind, I have no choice but to offer the truth and hope that Detective Reyes uses it well.

“I thought he was distracted.”

“Distracted?”

“Yes. He… well, he seemed to be all over the place. When I arrived, he didn’t know who I was at first.”

---