Page 44 of Long Way Down

The mother – Elaine, she remembered – didn’t look up, gaze fixed on her daughter.

Tim Wheatly glanced around at the sound of their entrance, and nodded a hello. Where his wife looked wired and distraught, he looked quietly furious, the sort of anger that left a person pale and drawn, too often mistaken for illness. “She’s awake,” he told them, in a whisper, “but they gave her painkillers.”

She was out of it, then.

“We’ll be quick, Contreras assured, and glanced at Melissa.

She nodded. They’d discussed their approach on the ride over, and it seemed wise, given what had happened, that in her current state, Melissa’s face hovering out of the drug ether would be less frightening than a man’s.

When Elaine gave no sign of moving, Tim stepped back and motioned Melissa forward. She did so slowly, movements telegraphed, and Lynn’s head shifted on the pillow toward her. Elaine reached up to smooth her hair back, and Melissa saw swollen, slitted eyes close briefly, wet at the corners with tears from even that small touch.

She adopted her softest voice, and hoped it was soothing enough. “Lynn, I’m Detective Dixon. If you’re up for it, I’d like to go over what happened last night.”

She’d seen the photos in her bedroom: Lynn was a pretty girl. Tall, slender, with coppery hair and a sweet smile. She looked like she could have been Lana Preston’s cousin, actually: they both had that casual, summers-in-Montauk look about them. Casually, effortlessly beautiful, without a lot of pomp or ornamentation.

Now, her hair was dull and tangled, her face swollen and mottled with bruises. Her nose had been broken and reset with bulky white bandage strips; her breath whistled on each exhale.

She wet her lips and blinked, movements slow from the drugs. “Yeah,” she said, weakly, voice hoarse like she’d been strangled. Judging by the dark bruises around her throat, she had been.

“Your mom said you called to let her know you were on the way home,” Melissa prompted. “And that they left the house around six. Do you remember what time you arrived?”

“You texted me,” Elaine said. “Remember? You texted ‘I’m here.’ At six-twenty.”

Melissa spared her a glance, noting the white-rimmed eyes, the quick breaths. “Ma’am,” she said, finally drawing a glance from the woman. “I really need to hear it from Lynn, okay? We’ll take things nice and slow.”

Elaine smoothed Lynn’s hair, again and again, as if stroking a talisman.

Melissa said, “Is that right? You texted your mom?”

“…I think. I always do.”

“I have it right here on my phone,” Elaine said. “You can look at it.”

“Ma’am,” Melissa said again.

“Honey.” Wheatly stood. “Why don’t we step into the hall and–”

“I’m not leaving her,” Elaine snapped, eyes flashing, hand tightening on the top of her daughter’s skull until Lynn winced and let out a quiet grunt of pain. One of the monitor’s steady beeping accelerated.

Shit, Melissa thought.

“Would you mind showing me?” Contreras said, approaching the bed. “We want our notes to be thorough, so it’s important to take down the exact time stamps.” His attentiveness, his tone, drew Elaine’s gaze, and she released her daughter’s skull so she could dig around in her bag for her phone.

Melissa said a silent prayer of thanks and refocused on Lynn. Quietly: “Was the house empty when you got there? No one was inside?”

Lynn took a labored, whistling breath, but the beeping of the monitor slowed again. “No…no, I was alone. The door was…locked.”

“Front and back?”

“I didn’t check.” She frowned, which must have hurt, because her bruised, swollen face contorted further with pain. “I came in the…back. The lock always sticks, and it did then. I…dropped my portfolio.” She shook her head, clearly fighting the fog of meds, and then groaned.

“Baby?” Elaine asked, shrill, reaching for her. “Baby, are you–”

“Remembering can be difficult,” Contreras said, catching the woman with a firm grip on the shoulder. “It’ll be best if we let her speak – let her get it over with quicker.”

Elaine didn’t look convinced, but settled for taking Lynn’s limp hand.

Melissa said, “The door was locked. You picked up your things and got inside, yeah?”