“Let’s put that number up on the screen right now for all our viewers to see.” Renetta motions to one of the technicians. “And cut,” she calls afterward. She takes her mic off and sets it on the table. “Wow. That was good, Genevieve. That was really good.”
I blush. “I was just doing my best to be real and genuine. People need to see us as real people, you know? That makes all the difference in the world.”
THEN
Little pink man with your little pink hands.
Stay away from me. No.
She said. Run. Three steps. Four steps. Five steps. Six.
I hate the color red.
She’s not supposed to be red. She said. Only run. That’s all you have to do.
Not one or two. Just three steps. Four steps. Five steps. Six.
Look at me.
Little pink man with his little pink hands. All over her. I won’t.
You can’t make me even if she says.
Simon says. Play.
I don’t want to. This game isn’t one I like.
I never get to quit. She does. Always. She makes the rules.
Rule maker. Life taker.
There are screams inside of me. So loud you can’t hear them. Then.
I let them out. Yell so loud. I don’t stop. Won’t stop.
Run.
Three steps. Four steps. Five steps. Six.
THIRTY-THREE
CASEY WALKER
I spot Detective Layne huffing and puffing his way through the police station parking lot. I’ve been waiting for him to come outside for almost two hours and hurry to catch him. He spots me coming and waves me off, his keys in his hands.
“It’s over, Ms. Walker. Go home.” His car alarm beeps, and he heads toward the sound.
I shake my head. “It’s not over.” I catch him quickly.
“We made an arrest. You have to let it go,” he says. Just like he’s said every time I called him, but that’s not good enough. Not for me or Mason.
“This can’t be over. We don’t even know what happened.”
“We don’t need to. We made an arrest. The boy’s been charged, and given the circumstances and his family, the matter will be settled privately and the details of his sentencing kept as secret as possible. It doesn’t really get any more case closed than that.” He reaches his white SUV with the black-tinted windows and opens the door. He spreads his arms and leans casually against it.
“Are you kidding me?” I struggle to keep my voice down.
Maybe that’s good enough for him, but it’s not good enough for me.
“Ms. Walker, I’m sorry, I don’t know what more I can tell you.”
“You can start by telling me that you’re not going to let an innocent boy suffer. You’re not going to let him take the blame for something he might not have done. And even if he did do it—which I still don’t believe he did, but let’s just say for a minute that he did—there’s no way he did it of his own volition.” I shake my head adamantly. “He’s at her mercy and under her control, a drugged-out puppet carrying out her wishes. You can’t hold him responsible. You just can’t.”
“We’ve been through this.” He shifts his weight like he’s going to get inside the car, dismissing me that quickly. I grab the door so he can’t shut it. We’ve barely spoken since Genevieve gave her bogus confession. He tossed me aside the moment he didn’t have a use for me anymore, and I’m not letting him get away with that.
“Don’t you even care that he might not have done it? That she’s been playing you and everyone else all along?”
“Of course I care. I care just as much about the truth and justice as you do, but you’ve got nothing, Ms. Walker. Nothing but theories. And they’re some good theories, I’ll give you that. But there are no records. No concrete evidence. Nothing on paper that suggests she’s anything other than a doting mother with a really dramatic southern flair. The only person who thinks otherwise . . . well . . . you’ve seen the psychiatric reports . . . I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to let it go.”
“I can’t.” I glare at him. “And I don’t know how you can either.”
He shrugs with the confidence of someone who’s been through this numerous times before. “Give me something to work with, and then maybe we can talk.” He tugs the door, and I reluctantly let go. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get home for dinner. The wife’s cooking meatloaf tonight.” The door slams tight behind him before I can say anything, and he pulls out of the parking lot, making his way onto the street. I watch his taillights until they disappear.
I’m going to find something. She’s not getting away with this.
THIRTY-FOUR
GENEVIEVE HILL
The sky is growing dark as I leave Mason’s group home and hurry across the parking lot to my car. Of course they didn’t let me see him, but at least I got to drop off some of his clothes. I left a special note for him tucked inside his favorite jeans. The note explains everything. I hope he understands. I dig in my purse for my keys. Why can’t I ever find them, and when am I going to clean this stupid thing?
Nobody was near me.
And then suddenly someone is. I can’t see his face. He’s behind me with something hard pressed against my back. The hairs on my neck stand at attention. My entire body goes stiff.
“Keep walking,” he hisses into my ear. His breath smells like beer and spearmint gum. “There’s no cameras in this lot. Nobody can see you. I’ll shoot you if you scream, got it? Now move.” He jabs his gun into my rib cage.
The ground vanishes beneath me. All the air gone from my lungs like the wind’s been knocked out of me.
“Move.” He jabs me again.
But I can’t. I silently scream at my legs to move, but they’re not listening. Neither are my hands or my mouth.
He grabs a chunk of my hair and snaps my head back. “I don’t think you’re understanding me. You’re going to do like I tell you to do, or I’m going to shoot you.”
His threat startles me into action, and I start moving forward in jerking motions like I’ve forgotten how to walk.
“You are one messed-up lady, you know that? I’ve got to admit I didn’t see that one coming. I never imagined a mother would throw their son under the bus to save themselves. There’s got to be a special place in hell for people like you.” His other hand grips my shirt as we near my car. “Keep moving.”
“Where are we going?” A trembling voice comes out of me.
“We’re going to take a little walk around the block. Just long enough for us to get a few things straight.” His breath is hot and fast in my ear as he urges me across the parking lot. “All you have to do is listen to me and do what I say. We got no problems you do that.”
My eyes scan the lot. Isn’t anyone seeing this? How is nobody seeing this? But there are only three other cars parked in the lot, and nobody’s around. The place is too beat up and run down to have cameras. He planned it this way on purpose.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg. I’m afraid of what happens if we leave this lot. There could be a car around the corner for him to throw me inside. My heart speeds up even faster. Or Simon. That Monster. He could be waiting for us. Nothing good happens if we leave this parking lot. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please. Anything. Just tell me what you want.”