Something in the Way(48)

"We'll get to that," he said. "Need anything before we start? Water? Coffee?"

"Sure." What I wanted most was a cigarette. My head hurt all over from  lack of sleep and now this. The bracelet felt like no more than a hair  on my wrist, but I hadn't forgotten it was there. This was a special  circumstance, though. I'd quit tomorrow. "Any chance of me getting a  smoke?"

Vermont laughed as Krout stood at a table against the wall, separating  paper cups by a coffee urn. "This isn't a TV show, son. But nice try."

The gray, concrete room, lit by a single lamp, did look a little like a  set. Not to mention short-and-fat and tall-and-skinny would've made a  fine pair for a primetime courtroom comedy. I kept it to myself. I  respected the police. They might have the wrong guy, but they were just  doing their jobs.

Krout set three waters and coffees on the table. My mouth had gone tacky from my cravings, so I went for water.

"Do you have any guesses?" Krout asked. It was the first thing he'd said.

I swallowed my water in one gulp and set the cup down. "About?"

"Why you're here."

"Gary relayed what you told him." Gary had convinced the cops to wait at  the gate for me, their presence upsetting the kids. "There was some  kind of robbery last night?"

"A house in town, nice, upstanding folks," Vermont said. "We just have a  few routine questions for you, but it's our duty to go over your  rights."

I sipped coffee as he read my Miranda rights. I had nothing to worry  about, and the longer the process went on, the more this became a thing.  I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "I'm good. We can continue."

"For the record, please state your name, age, and occupation."

"Manning Raymond Sutter. Age twenty-three. Camp counselor, construction worker, and anything else that pays the bills."

"Where are you based?"

"Long Beach, California."

The detective made notes in his folder. "Did you grow up there?"

"No. Pasadena."

"Have any family in California?"

"My mom's still in Pasadena I think."

"What about your dad?"

I wiped my temple, my hairline getting hot. "I'm not sure. Last I heard, he was in Pelican Bay, but that was a while ago."

Krout looked up at that. "Penitentiary? What for?"

Having a dad in prison probably didn't look so good. Fucking me over from afar, no surprise there. "Assault."

"I see." Detective Krout's pen continued to scrawl across the page. "Tell us about your evening."

I blew out a breath. It was simply, really. At least, what they'd know  of it. "I was at camp most of the night. We ran out of alcohol, so since  I was the only sober one, I was volunteered to do a run. I went into  town, got some, and went back to the campsite."                       
       
           



       

"What time did you leave?"

"I'd say just before ten."

"And you went right back after you got the alcohol?" Krout asked. "Because that's not what we heard."

That caught me off guard, that they'd heard anything. I swallowed to buy  myself a second, then remembered the officer from last night. Of course  they knew I didn't go straight back. I'd been with one of their own.  "Yeah. No. I had some car trouble so it took a little longer."

"Nobody seems to know what time you returned. According to one source,  you said you'd be right back, but by the time your peers went to sleep  at one in the morning, you still hadn't returned. We figure, being  generous, it's half an hour into town and half an hour back. If you left  just after ten, you should've been back well before midnight."

"Like I said, I had car trouble. It wasn't my truck, believe me, that  hunk of metal had its problems. You can go take a look. Better yet, ask  your officer."

Both men's eyebrows dropped. "What officer?"

Were they fucking with me? There was no way they didn't already know.  How else had they pegged me as a suspect? "I forget his last name. He  found me on the side of the road, made sure I wasn't drinking and  driving, then gave me a jump."

Krout sat back in his seat with a sigh. "I didn't see any record of it."

I shrugged. "Maybe because there was nothing to say. I wasn't doing  anything wrong." I had the urge to swallow again, but I worried they'd  read into that. I resisted and ended up coughing. "Can I get some  water?"

Vermont and Krout exchanged a look. "Was Anderson on duty last night?" Krout asked him.

"Don't know off the top of my head, but he's most likely sleeping right  now." He turned to me. "We'll be sure to talk to Officer Anderson. What  was the truck you were driving?"

"Ford clunker. Seventy-nine, I think. It belongs to-Vern. You know him? He works at the camp."

Vermont ignored me. "Color?"

"White."

"And where'd you stop for alcohol?"

"The liquor store was closed so I tried a bar. The bartender, or maybe it was the owner-he sold me something from the back."

"And that's it? From there, you headed back and the truck broke down?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where was that?"

"About a mile from camp."

Vermont tapped the end of his pen on his notepad, nodding. Nobody spoke  for a few moments. Krout checked his watch and got me a refill that I  immediately downed.

"Thing is, Mr. Sutter," Vermont said, "we have two witnesses placing  your vehicle in the neighborhood where the crime occurred, at the time  it occurred. Not too far from Phil's bar. But I can't think of no reason  you should've been near that residence. It's not on the way back to  camp."

Fuck. It'd been such a blip in time, I hadn't even really thought about  our drive through the neighborhood. Lake popped into my head first.  She'd hung out the window, and I'd let her, like a fucking idiot. I'd  been too caught up in her, in our last night together. Did they know  about her? As long as they didn't, I was fine. I hadn't done anything  wrong. I shifted in the plastic chair, suddenly aware of how hard it  was. "I went for a drive. Never been to the area, so I was curious."

The men just stared at me. It was about the truth, though. "Why didn't you mention it?" Vermont asked.

"Guess I forgot."

Vermont blew out a sigh, looking over his notepad. "Two different  neighbors say they spotted a loud, white truck outside their houses.  Same plates as yours. Couldn'ta been driving more than ten miles an  hour. With the headlights out. To me, that sounds like someone casing  the neighborhood."

The lamp over our heads got brighter. I willed my heartrate to slow  down; I needed my wits about me. Sitting up a little straighter, I said,  "I don't really have a good explanation for that. I just like that time  of night. The peace. Stars."

"Not peaceful up at camp, smack in the middle of the woods?" Krout  asked, his voice a little harder, wryer. "Can't see the stars up there  where it's dark? Had to go looking for it in town?"

I massaged my face. "It looks bad, I agree, but it's not like that. I  just-there are kids everywhere up there, I needed some time to myself. I  work construction. I'm not-not used to being around all those kids."  The officers let me ramble, probably hoping I'd trip myself up. I took a  breath. "They say anything else?"                       
       
           



       

"Like what?"

I shook my head. I just needed to know about Lake. If anyone'd seen her.  "Just trying to figure out-I mean, I didn't do anything wrong. I  didn't. You can search the truck. My cabin. All I brought up here with  me was a bag, not like I could fit any stolen goods in it. What'd the  robber take?"

Vermont looked at Krout. "Nothing. He was interrupted. The woman who  caught him described him as tall with dark hair and clothes."

"So then it wasn't actually a crime?"

"Of course it was," Krout said. "Someone came into a family's home and  confronted the wife. Her kids were there. What we have to figure out is  who and why."

I knew from my criminal justice class that first-degree robbery was a  felony, and a felony charge could fuck me long after I served time. "Was  anyone hurt?"

"Fortunately not. The woman wrestled her wallet from him and he ran.  She's all right. He knew enough to pick a lock. No major damage done.  You know how to pick a lock?"

"No." Of course I did, for fuck's sake. My breathing shallowed. I needed  more water, but it didn't look like I was getting a refill. "Can I get  an aspirin or something?"

"In a minute." Krout looked over his notes. "Vermont's niece was at  Phil's, that bar you visited last night. She ID'ed a tall, dark-haired  man and your vehicle, so we know you were there."