Page 25 of Things We Do in the Dark
Paris repeats the same story she told her lawyer, and finds it’s much easier the second time around.
“Tell me, Mrs. Peralta,” the detective says when Paris finishes. “If your husband took his own life, as you both are so certain he did, why do you think he cut his leg? Why not his wrists? That’s what most people would do.”
“I can answer that,” Elsie says confidently, and Paris turns to her in surprise. “When Jimmy attempted suicide before, he did cut his arm. Obviously he didn’t die. But the scar, which ran halfway down his forearm, forever bothered him.”
“That’show he got that scar?” Paris says to Elsie. “He told me he fell through a plate-glass window while he was high.”
“He did. But that’s not how he gotthatscar.”
Paris sits back in her chair. What else doesn’t she know about Jimmy’s past? It seems her husband had just as many secrets as she does.
“To me, it makes sense that he’d choose a spot on his body he could easily hide.” Elsie turns her attention back to Detective Kellogg. “It would have been his way of protecting his future self, in the event that he survived.”
“If I didn’t know otherwise, I might have thoughtyouwere his wife, you know him so well,” Kellogg says to Elsie. She turns back to Paris. “Anyway, we have lots of time to put the pieces together. You never know what might turn up in the next day or two.”
Paris’s stomach burns.
“We’re done here,” Elsie says.
“I figured,” the detective says.
Elsie gets up to bang on the door. Detective Kellogg stays seated, continuing to stare at Paris thoughtfully, as if trying to figure her out. Well, Detective Frosted Flakes can try as hard as she wants, but so far, nobody ever has.
“How much longer do I have to stay here?” Paris asks Elsie as they follow an officer back to the holding cell.
“They can hold you for up to seventy-two hours, at which point they have to formally charge you or let you go.”
“Threedays?” Paris grips her lawyer’s arm. “Elsie, I can’t stay here that long.”
“It won’t be that long.” Elsie pats her hand. “I’ll be back later. For now, just sit tight. And remember, not a word to anyone. We’ll prove what happened soon enough.”
They reach the cell, and looking through the bars at the dingy walls, Paris feels a sudden stab of claustrophobia. She would give anything to not go back in there, and if she feels that way now, how will she ever survive prison? She can’t bring herself to step inside until the officer places a hand on her back and pushes her in. The door locks.
“Paris,” Elsie says, her voice catching, and Paris turns. “Why didn’t Jimmy tell me he was having a hard time? He always told me everything. How did I not pick up on it? If I’d known, I could have…” She chokes up.
Paris reaches a hand through the bars. “You knew Jimmy better than anyone, and you know how difficult it was for him to admit when he needed help. Zoe was at the house nearly every day, and even she didn’t know. So how could you?”
Elsie nods and gives her hand a brief squeeze before letting go. Paris knows that what she just said made the other woman feel better, and for the most part, it’s true. There’s no way Elsie and Zoe could have known Jimmy was struggling.
Because Paris didn’t know, either.
After Elsie leaves, she calls Henry again.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” Paris tells him. “I’m sorry, I know that puts you in a bad spot.”
“I can handle it,” Henry says, but she detects more anxiety in his voice than there was earlier. “The staff all support you. A few members have asked me questions because of the arrest video, but I’ve been reminding everyone that an arrest isn’t the same thing as being charged.”
“I doubt most people will understand the difference. But thank you.”
They say their goodbyes again and hang up.
He’s a good man, that Henry Chu, and Paris knows how lucky she is to have him as her business partner and studio manager. Ten years ago, he walked into Ocean Breath for the first time, stressed and exhausted from a programming job at Amazon that was driving up his blood pressure. She was still in the Fremont neighborhood then, in a tiny studio on the second level of a low-rise commercial building that housed a bead store, a private investigator’s office, and a psychic who only worked on Fridays. Henry took to yoga like a fish to water, and he practiced five days a week. After a few months, noticing that Paris was struggling to attract new members, Henry suggested she do a Groupon, and Ocean Breath’s clientele began to grow.
He eventually left Amazon with a generous severance package. When the studio’s booking system crashed, he offered to come in as a partner and build her a better one. Paris jumped at the opportunity to bring him on board. It took a huge load off the studio’s finances and allowed Paris more time to teach. They then moved Ocean Breath to its current location, a gorgeous space near Whole Foods, which attracted an entirely different level of clientele.
The new location is where she met Jimmy. At least that’s the story they agreed to tell people. Nobody questioned it, because nobody cared. Retired comedian marries yoga instructor? Not exactlyEntertainment Tonight–worthy. Jimmy hadn’t been considered “relevant” for a while, which was just fine with Paris.
And then Zoe fucked it all up.
