Page 79 of You Know Why

“Is this necessary right now? Brooklyn has had a very long day, and she needs her rest. When she’s released from the hospital, we can make an appointment to talk.”

“Unfortunately, yes, it is necessary right now,” the man says. “As you know, we’ve been searching for Mr. Locke, and we’re hoping Mrs. Locke can tell us where he might be.”

“Trust me, she has no idea.”

“I’d like to hear that from her, if you don’t mind.”

I shift in the bed. The sheets crackle. The FBI agent is looming over me. Even if I did remember something that would help them find Trey, my natural inclination is not to cooperate. Not until I can rearrange my own thoughts into a semblance of order. Not until I know what’s happening. My breath starts to come short, and Detective Lee puts a hand on my arm, speaking softly.

“Hey. It’s all going to be okay. Just tell us what you remember.”

I get it now. Good cop, bad cop. Fine. Two can play that game.

“My sister is right. I don’t know where Trey is. And I certainly don’t know about any criminal acts. You can’t really think he did something wrong.”

Sheehan coughs, and it sounds sarcastic. “Yeah, we can.”

Lee gives him a censorious look. “Right now, Mrs. Locke, we’re looking at several quite serious charges against your husband. Embezzlement. Money laundering. Fraud. And unfortunately, attempted murder.”

“Attempted murder? Of who?”

Sheehan looks me deep in the eyes, and my world implodes.

“You.”

This Is Madness

I am frozen. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

“You,” the man said. “You.” Me. My husband is wanted for my attempted murder.

Trey tried to kill me? Impossible. That I would remember.

“You’re out of your mind,” I say at last. “Trey would never hurt me.”

“And yet here you are.”

“My husband isn’t capable of trying to kill me. What a ridiculous thought.”

Sheehan ignores my pleas. He has an iPad in his hand and sets it on my side table. “This is a video from the night you were hit by the car. Detective Lee saw the whole thing. She was talking to you at Eden Barrow’s house. They’d just told you about the murder of Andrew’s first wife. You got upset and ran into the street. The car that hit you was captured on several neighborhood video cams.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“It’s crucial for you to see. It might jog your memory.”

The video is queued up on the screen, but before Sheehan can hit play, Margot makes a noise of pain or derision—I can’t tell which—and slams the iPad case shut. “That’s not fair. You can’t show her the accident.”

“That’s up to Mrs. Locke,” Lee says. “I agree that she needs to see this.”

Margot’s voice is soft but frantic. “Brook, you don’t have to watch that. They can’t make you.”

It strikes me that my sister doesn’t want to see the video of her twin almost dying. I don’t particularly want to, either.

“Why is it so important for me to watch myself get hurt?”

“Because you don’t believe us. You will once you see this.” Sheehan is staring at me with narrowed eyes. “For someone who’s just learned she is a target, you don’t seem terribly concerned.”

“Because I don’t believe you. Nor do I believe that Trey is on the run from you for some nefarious deeds. That’s preposterous. My husband is not a criminal.”