Page 42 of We Are All Guilty Here

“That’s two questions.”

“Let me answer both of them for you,” Lionel offered. “It’s either gonna be Dooly State Prison, where they house all the other pedophiles, or it’s gonna be the Georgia Diagnostic and Classification State Prison, where you’ll spend about fifteen years in isolation inside a cell before they walk you down the corridor, strap you to a gurney, stick a needle in your arm, and kill you.”

Dale’s lips parted. His sharp breath whistled through the speaker.

“Look around this shitty little room, man. This is the TajMahal compared to what your cell is gonna be like. You can stretch out your arms and touch the walls on either side.”

Dale couldn’t stop himself from looking around the room.

Lionel said, “We know Cheyenne’s already dead.”

Dale bit his bottom lip to keep his mouth closed.

Lionel asked, “Is Madison dead, too?”

Emmy heard another whistle of a sharp breath. Dale cleared his throat. He stared at the wall across from his chair. His expression was blank, but Emmy saw a thick bead of sweat roll down from his sideburn.

He said, “This is all a mistake.”

“Do you know how many dudes are in prison because they made a mistake?”

“I didn’t sayImade a mistake. I saidyoumade a mistake.” Dale took a moment to calm himself by finishing off the water. The plastic cup made a popping sound when he returned it to the table. “Why would I need two laptops? My MacBook Pro is the far superior machine. As I’ve stated repeatedly, I haven’t laid eyes on the old one in months.”

Emmy felt all the air leave her body. He’d used silence to think of another excuse.

“Okay,” Lionel said, rolling with it. “How did you know the laptop was hidden behind the filing cabinet?”

“Everyone knew it was back there. It wasn’t hidden. It was stored there.”

“Stored by who?”

“By whom, and I wouldn’t know.”

“How long has it been there?”

“No idea.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Lionel said. “What you’re telling me happened is: Cheyenne Baker and Madison Dalrymple are kidnapped, and by some weird coincidence, you show up at the school bright and early the very next morning to get a laptop you haven’t laid eyes on in over a year, or a year exactly, or in months, or you don’t know how long, but you know it’sstoredbetween a filing cabinet and a wall, that somehow everybody has seen but nobody else has ever touched, because you wanted to copy some sheet music, but unbeknownst to you, the onlyfile you copied onto the thumb drive you brought from home is the only file on the laptop that has nearly 1,000 photos of child pornography.”

Dale licked his lips again. He knew it sounded preposterous. “Yes.”

“Esther was at her sister’s house up in Carrolton to watch the fireworks with her kids. Said she talked to you on the phone, but didn’t see you in person. Neighbors were all at the firework shows. Nobody saw you. You don’t have an alibi.”

“I was at home.”

“Your neighbor says you were in your driveway this morning washing and vacuuming out your car. Do you usually wash and vacuum your car at five thirty in the morning?”

“Is it not summer in Atlanta, too?” Dale’s smugness had returned. “You do things in the morning because it’s too hot later in the day.”

“That makes sense,” Lionel agreed. “But what gets me is, I’ve never heard of a man using bleach to clean out his car. Leastwise, not an innocent man.”

Dale’s gaze returned to the blank wall in front of him.

“On those forensic shows, they always tell you bleach can destroy blood evidence and DNA. Tricks all the tests we have, right?” Lionel paused, but there was no response. “The thing is, it’s the fact of you cleaning the car with bleach that’s the red flag. Tells me that you were worried we’d find DNA and fingerprints and trace evidence from Cheyenne and Madison.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Dale countered. “I drive kids home from practice all the time. I always get permission from the parents first. You can ask Hannah and Ruth.”

“We did,” Lionel said. “You drove Cheyenne home a lot. Verona’s a twenty-minute drive in the opposite direction from your house.”

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