Page 63 of Good and Gone

"I love you, Hailey," I say.

She looks up at me. Her eyes are full of tears. She's struggling to keep her composure. I know the cops are coming, and I know I'm going to be arrested. I know I'll be fired and probably lose my license, and I know that I'm probably looking at prison time. None of that matters to me.

"I love you too, Tyler," she says.

The police are outside. They're shouting commands at us. Everything feels so weird and surreal. They want us to come out one at a time. "You first," I say. "And remember, stick to the plan. No matter what. Don't speak to anyone without an attorney present."

"Okay," she says.

I nod and watch her walk out. Then it's my turn. The cops are surrounding the house, weapons drawn, and I hold my hands in the air.

"I'm coming out," I say.

"I got him," a cop shouts when I walk outside. "I got him."

I'm not sure what that means. I don't know if the cop was going to shoot me or what. I do know it all goes downhill from here. I know that this is not like the movies, where you say your piece and everyone shakes hands and goes home to their own beds. Justice has its process, even for the good guys. And who are the good guys? I know the DA in this county, and I know it would be easy to make an example out of me. People, especially those in positions of authority, don’t particularly like it when you try to do their job for them. I could hang for making certain people look incompetent, and who really knows how deep this operation goes?

"Stand over by the car," the cop says.

I look over and see Hailey seated at the curb, a female officer beside her.

"I said over by the car," the officer yells at me.

I walk over to the squad car. Hailey looks at me, and I smile at her. I smile because it's the only thing I can do. She looks sad, and I just want to hold her and try to make it all okay. I don't know how I'm going to make it okay, only that I don't have another choice. Same as doing what I did in that house.

"Tyler," Hailey calls out. "I forgot to tell you...your dad is on his way."

I think about the situation at the farm. The “situation” that led me here.Shoot. Shovel. Shut up.I may have missed a step, but I bet he didn't. I nod and I take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay.

I have to believe that.

47

Hailey

I'm seated on the curb, picking at my cuticles. I'm surrounded by cops with their guns drawn. I see Tyler being led out of the house with his hands in the air, and my heart sinks. This is all my fault. If I had just been able to remember more about what happened to me, if I hadn't gone running that day—or any other day I suppose—if I had been more careful about what I posted online, none of this would be happening. But I was too stubborn, too naive, and now Tyler is going to pay the price.

I watch as the officer's question him. They're grilling him, and I can see the fear in his eyes. The thought that he might go to prison is agonizing. I want to tell them everything, but I know that there's no point. If we admit this was anything other than self-defense, they won't need a trial. They'll throw him in jail, regardless. We did come looking for trouble, and if we try to deny what happened, all the evidence will be stacked against us.

The female officer begins to question me. Her voice is stern and demanding. I feel like a criminal as she demands answers from me, her questions tinged with suspicion and doubt. "I need to know everything that happened in that house," she says to me. "Start again and go slower this time."

I hesitate, my heart pounding in my chest. My stomach knots, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. How can I tell her about what happened to me? The memories are still so fuzzy, like a dream that was half-remembered upon waking up, and I know this isn't like a movie where justice prevails and we live happily ever after. Instead, my worst fears are coming true: Tyler is going to be charged with a crime, possibly murder—accused of killing my kidnapper. And I'm not sure if he's going to make it through this ordeal without paying a heavy price for his actions. Sometimes, it’s better not to say anything.

The officer's voice breaks into my thoughts. "Miss, I need you to focus. This is very important."

I nod and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I say. "I'm going to need to wait for my attorney."

"In that case, we'll need to take you down to the station."

"I understand," I reply, and she reads me myMirandarights, and if I thought this nightmare couldn't get any worse, I was wrong.

48

Tyler

As I sit in the interrogation room, my heart races and my palms sweat. This is it—the moment of reckoning. I know I did what had to be done. But I have to make other people see it that way, too, and well, let's face it—there are a lot of stupid people, and my fate rests in their hands. It's a crap shoot as to how this is going to turn out. If they find me guilty of murder, I could end up behind bars for the rest of my life.

“Let's start from the beginning, Tyler,” the investigator says. He’s young, with bright eyes and an eager face, and taking into consideration the crew cut and freshly pressed khakis he’s sporting, it looks like it could very well be his first day on the job. It almost makes me long for Barry Coburn.Almost.“Why don't you tell us what happened—what led up to the events that ended with Mr. Simpson dead? Why did you initially go to 16421 Laverty Lane?”

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