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“Officer Zane already called and told me.”
I couldn’t see if he frowned at that because of the way his bushy mustache held his mask away from his face, but his eyebrows—also bushy—drew together, so I think he did.
“Well, good. Good.”
Bullshit you think it’s good, I thought, and thought roll us roll us you’ll feel better you know you will.
We walked back to the house. The boardwalk was too narrow for us to go side by side, so I led the way. The thoughts—mine, that I couldn’t banish—were giving me a headache.
“Still waiting on the toxicology, of course.”
We reached the end of the boardwalk and strolled across the courtyard past his truck, me still leading the way. He wasn’t here just to tell me about the autopsy. I knew that and knew I needed a clear mind to deal with him.
“So Officer Zane said. Also that I’ll still have to be at the inquest. Do you have something for me, Deputy? Because I was sitting out there, doing some thinking and trying to be peaceful. Meditation, you might call it.”
“And I’ll let you get back to it. Just a few questions, is all.”
We went into the garage, where it was marginally cooler. I went to the stroller. As I neared it, the thoughts ramped up: DRESS US! ROLL US! SEE US!
For a moment I did seem to see them, not as monstrosities but as the children they’d been when they died. Just for a moment. When I gripped one of the stroller handles, they were gone… assuming they’d been there at all. And the maddening litany in my head ceased. I rolled the perambulator back and forth.
Just something to do with my hands, Andy. Think nothing of it.
“I looked you up a little,” Andy said.
“I know you did.”
“Terrible thing what happened to your own little boy. Just terrible.”
“It was a long time ago. Andy, are you on this case? If there is a case? Were you assigned to it? Because somehow I doubt that.”
“No, no,” he said, raising his hands in a perish the thought gesture. “But you know how it is—you can take the man out of the cops, but you can’t take the cop out of the man. Probably the same in your business. Advertising, wasn’t it?”
“You know it was, and the answer is no. On the rare occasions when I watch network TV instead of streaming, I mute the ads. You really have no business here at all, do you?”
“Now, I wouldn’t go that far. I just… man, I’m curious. This is a funny business. Meaning funny-peculiar, not funny-haha. You must see that.”
Back and forth went the stroller, a few feet ahead, a few feet back. Soothing the kids, keeping them quiet.
“Why would she leave you everything? That gets me. And I bet you know.”
That was true. I did.
“I don’t.”
“And why do you keep bringing that stroller back from her place? Because it’s got to be you, doesn’t it? No one else out here this time of year.”
“Not me.”
He sighed. “Talk to me, Vic. Why not? If her tox screen comes back negative, you got away with whatever you got away with.”
So there it was. He thought I’d killed her.
“Help an old duffer out. It’s just the two of us.”
I didn’t like this Wilford Brimley lookalike, who had interrupted me while I was trying something delicate. It probably wouldn’t have worked, but that didn’t make me feel any better about him, so I pretended to consider what he was asking for. I said, “Show me your phone.”
Even the bulge of his mustache couldn’t quite hide the smile on his mouth. I couldn’t gauge the exact quality of that smile, but I’d be willing to bet it was of the you got me, partner variety. The phone came out of the baggy shorts, and yes, it was recording.
