Page 20 of Things We Do in the Dark
“I asked for an interview room, but they’re all full.” The older woman speaks briskly. “So we’ll have to talk here. Even though we’re alone, keep your voice low and your head down at all times. You never know who’s listening.”
“Thank you for coming,” Paris says quietly.
Elsie doesn’t answer. Instead, she opens her briefcase and takes out a lined notepad, her reading glasses, and an elegant black-and-gold pen with the name of her firm stamped on the side. Elsie is a partner at Strathroy, Oakwood, and Strauss, and while she’s no longer a criminal defense attorney, she used to be. She got her start working as a public defender for afew years before switching over to private practice. She’s now in litigation, and Jimmy has always said she’s fierce in court.
Paris isn’t sure how much Elsie can help with her situation, but she’s grateful the lawyer at least showed up. The other woman has always been fiercely protective of Jimmy, and she was suspicious of Paris from the beginning. The night she and Elsie first met, Elsie had asked outright whether Jimmy’s new and much younger girlfriend was just in it for the green card. The woman was on her third glass of chardonnay at the time, but still.
“It’s like it didn’t even occur to her that I’m already a US citizen,” Paris had fumed to Jimmy later. “Would she have asked me that if I was white?”
“She asked you that because she’s jealous.” Jimmy moved a lock of hair off her face. “Full transparency—she and I dated back in high school. I was the class clown, she was the school valedictorian, and I broke her heart when I moved to LA after graduation. She’s never nice to any of my girlfriends at first. But she’ll come around. She always does.”
Over time, Paris and Elsie learned to tolerate each other, especially once they discovered they were on the same page about two important things: both were concerned about Jimmy’s comeback at the age of sixty-eight (though for very different reasons), and both completely blamed Zoe for the fact that it was happening. If Paris can get Elsie to believe that she didn’t kill Jimmy, she might have a shot at getting everyone else to believe it, too.
“I didn’t murder Jimmy,” she finally blurts, unable to stand the silence any longer.
“If I thought you did,” Elsie says calmly, “I wouldn’t be here.”
Paris exhales, slumping back against the wall with relief. But her hair catches on something sticky, so she straightens up again.
Elsie clicks her pen, tests the ink. She checks her reading glasses and uses the hem of her blouse to wipe away a smudge. Her hands won’t stop moving, as if she’s channeling everything she’s feeling into them, as if she’s afraid to be still because it will force her to fully process that something terrible has happened.
Because something terrible has.
“Elsie, I’m so sorry—”
“We don’t have much time, so let’s talk about all that later, okay?” Unlike her hands, Elsie’s voice is steady. “Right now, I need you to answer all my questions as accurately as you can. We’re meeting with Detective Kellogg in ten minutes. Has she tried to question you without me here?”
“I asked to call a lawyer as soon as I got here,” Paris says. “Elsie, Jimmy had—”
Elsie puts a hand up. “Save it for later. Just let me do my job. I need you to answer all my questions.”
Paris shuts up.
“Have you talked to anyone since you were arrested?”
“No.”
“What about since you were brought in?”
“No.”
“What about Little Miss Sunshine, the woman who just left?”
“I haven’t said anything to anyone.”
“Good.” Elsie’s voice turns brisk again. “Okay. You’ve been arrested on suspicion of murder, but that’s not a formal charge. The case is too high-profile, so they can’t afford to make mistakes. From what I’ve read in the arrest report, everything they have is circumstantial. You were married to Jimmy, you live in that house; it’s normal and expected that you would be in the bathroom and… touch things. Now, I want you to think hard. When did you discover Jimmy was dead?”
“Last night,” Paris says. “I had just gotten back from Vancouver—”
“What time?”
“Uh, two… maybe two thirty in the morning. Very late.”
“Did you drive or fly?”
“I drove.”
“So you crossed the border around midnight?”
