Leigh closed the video when Tammy Karlsen was escorted from the room and Burke ended the recording. She searched for a particular crime scene photo. Tammy’s purse had been located shoved under the driver’s seat of her BMW. Her clothes had been found at the scene. They were neatly folded in the corner of the pavilion.
As an obsessive compulsive, Leigh appreciated the careful symmetry of the staging. Tammy’s gray twill skirt had been folded into a tight square. On top of that was the matching suit jacket. The black silk blouse was tucked inside the jacket the way you’d see the set displayed in a store. A black thong was laid across the pile. The matching black lace bra was clasped around the bundle like a bow on a gift. Tammy’s black high heels were to the side, upright and carefully aligned to the tight square.
Leigh remembered the way Andrew used to play with his food at snack-time. He would layer cheese and crackers in a Jenga tower, then try to slide one out without toppling the pile. He did the same thing with apple slices, nuts, leftover kernels of popcorn.
The desk phone rang. Leigh wiped her eyes, blew her nose.
“Leigh Collier.”
Walter asked, “Is side dick like side boob?”
She took a long moment to realize that he was talking about Maddy’s lip-synch video. “I think it’s like a dick you fuck on the side.”
“Ah,” he said. “Well.”
She had to give him credit for not saying, Like mother like daughter, because when Leigh said she was honest with her husband, she was honest about everything.
Almost everything.
“Sweetheart,” he said. “Why are you crying?”
Her tears had stopped, but she felt them threaten to fall again. “I saw Callie last night.”
“Would it be stupid to ask if she’s in trouble?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Leigh would tell him about the unregistered Glock later. Walter had gotten the gun from one of his firemen buddies when she had started working on her own. “She looks bad. Worse than usual.”
“You know it goes in cycles.”
What Leigh knew was that, eventually, Callie wouldn’t be able to pull herself out of a dive. She wasn’t even sure that Callie could taper off. Especially with Phil around. There was a reason Callie had turned to heroin instead of her mother. And maybe there was a reason she hadn’t turned to Leigh. When Leigh had seen her sister’s dope kit in the motel last night, she had wanted to throw it against the wall and scream, Why do you love this shit more than you love me?
She told Walter, “She’s too thin. I could see the outlines of her bones.”
“So, you feed her.”
Leigh had tried. Callie had barely managed half a cheeseburger. She’d made a face like Maddy the first time she’d tried broccoli. “Her breathing was wrong. Labored. I could hear her wheezing. I’m not sure what’s going on.”
“Is she smoking?”
“No.” Phil had smoked enough for the entire family. Neither one of them could stand the stench. Which was why it was doubly cruel that Leigh had let Callie go to their mother’s last night. What had she been thinking? If Andrew or one of his private detectives didn’t terrorize her into overdosing, then Phil would.
It was her fault. It was all her fault.
“Sweetheart,” Walter said. “Even if it’s Long-Covid, every day you hear about some people finally getting better. Callie’s got more lives than a cat. You know that.”
Leigh thought about her own battle with Covid. It had started with four hours of uncontrolled coughing that had gotten so bad she’d burst a blood vessel in her eye. The hospital had discharged her with Tylenol and instructions to call an ambulance if she couldn’t breathe. Walter had begged Leigh to let him take care of her, but she’d sent him to find Callie instead.
It was her fault. It was all her fault.
“Honey,” Walter said. “Your sister is an incredibly kind and unique person, but she’s got a lot of problems. Some of them you can fix, and some you can’t. All you can do is love her.”
Leigh dried her eyes again. She’d heard the stutter on Walter’s line. “Is someone trying to call you?”
He sighed. “Marci. I can call her back.”
Marci was Walter’s current side piece. Unfortunately, he hadn’t opted to spend the four years since their split pining for Leigh’s return.
She felt the need to tell him, “It would take ten minutes to file a no-fault divorce online.”
“Sweetheart,” Walter said. “I’ll be your side dick as long as you’ll be my side boob.”