“Well, thanks,” Griff said.
“For what?” Sam said.
Griff shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head, exhausted. “I don’t know,” he said, sounding defeated.
“I’m being weird, aren’t I?” Sam said.
Luna had told him on one of their first dates that he had an extremely cold conversational style. She’d likened him to HAL from 2001. Sam had been amused by the comparison, or by Luna’s bluntness. He would be less amused now if he knew how often Luna and Owen mocked his affectless tone.
“A little,” Griff answered. “No judgment. A strange man just broke into your home.”
Sam nodded, agreeing. “She told me about you once,” said Sam.
“Good things?” Griff said.
Sam’s eyes squinted in confusion, then amusement. “You broke her fucking heart, man. No. Not that good.”
Griff had backed all the way to the front door. His phone rang in his pocket, visibly startling him. “I gotta go,” Griff said.
“Don’t forget the dog,” Sam said.
* * *
—
Sam was fairly drunk when Luna returned from her third police interview. He showed no obvious signs of inebriation. A layman would never know. But Luna recognized the way his face relaxed, the jaw muscle resting, the molars taking a break from their constant grind.
“Hey. You’re back,” Luna said to her husband.
Luna was unsettled to find Sam home. Even though logic told her that he didn’t kill Irene, his freshly won person-of-interest status, and her participation in it, made their reunion profoundly uncomfortable. Luna had made the bland statement because she had to fill the air, but she knew it was the kind of thing that got under his skin. Sam didn’t believe in using words to state the obvious, or fill up silence, or attempt to ease discomfort.
“Your powers of observation are impeccable,” Sam said.
Luna decided to give Sam the efficient conversation he craved. “Mason found your phone. Your secret phone, I mean.”
Sam remained silent as he considered every possible response.
“Detective Goldman was trying to figure out whose number it was. He called. I answered.”
“You gave him the phone, I take it,” Sam said.
“Yes. I also gave him your toothbrush so they could test your DNA.”
“They could have gotten that from the phone,” Sam said.
“Good to know,” said Luna. “So, you and Irene?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Luna.”
Grief over Irene’s death undercut emotions that would otherwise have been in the conversation. Luna and Sam both felt as if they were going through the motions of talking about infidelity. Still, they went through them.
Luna opened the refrigerator and retrieved another beer. “For how long?” Luna asked, uncapping the pilsner.
“About a year.”
Sam paced around the couch, noting a few dog hairs trapped on a throw rug. Neither Sam nor Luna made eye contact during their entire conversation. As usual, they spoke concisely, using as few words as possible.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because she understood.”
“Understood what?” Luna asked.
“How fucking lonely it is being married to you,” Sam said.
The statement stung, but Luna had to concede that it was reasonable.
“I should pack,” Luna said.
“Where will you go?”
“Not sure.”
Sam was about to mention his brief meeting with the infamous Griff, but then the landline rang.
“Answer that. It’s for you,” Luna said.
Her tone was cold. Sam wondered if she was imitating him, if that was how he sounded to her. It was creepy, he thought. Sam answered the call. He could feel his blood pressure rise as his heart thumped, trying to sustain the oxygen level that his brain required.
“Hello,” he said.
“Dr. Burroughs, this is Detective Margot Burns. We should talk.”
March 2004
After Luna spoke to Owen, she phoned Griff at the Berkshires house. She and Griff had exchanged a few emails over the past few months. He’d mentioned staying at the Berkshires house over spring break. Griff immediately got in the car and drove to Deerkill. He arrived at the police station an hour after his brother’s interview began and just a few minutes before it would come to its natural end. When Griffin Mann identified himself to the desk clerk, Mrs. Hayes went on a tear. Police had to intervene again. An officer ushered Griff down the hallway, where he was reunited with Owen. At which time, Detective Oslo patted Owen on the back and thanked him for his cooperation.