In this moment, Walsh looks trustworthy, feels trustworthy. “Tell me now, Laura. I can go get him. Just tell me.”
Although it’s a command, he speaks so softly, with such empathy, I almost tell him how I don’t have a good feeling about that guy.
But he’s a cop for fuck’s sake and feelings aren’t evidence of shit.
I shrug and say, “Just rubbed me the wrong way for some reason.”
“Don’t take gut instincts for granted,” Walsh advises and then he seems to remember he has to sign in. He does, marking Melody down as well. “Maybe it’s good I got here when I did.”
A chill flows over my shoulders, as if agreeing with him.
“Maybe,” I agree. Peeking over my shoulder, I watch Mel separate more cups on a new tray.
“You’re here for more questions?” I ask him, changing the subject.
“I thought you would prefer it if I came during visitor hours.”
I don’t hesitate to tell him, “You thought right.” He gives me a tight smile and nods, nearly walking away but then he stops to tell me, “You’re protective of them. That’s a good thing.”
I search his eyes, wrinkled at the edges from his genuine smile and then ask, “Why not bring her in if you think she did it?”
He pauses, looking down at the linoleum floor before slipping his hands into the pockets of his dark blue uniform pants. “She was in a support group before this. She needed to be.”
“She needs more than a support group,” I urge him. I want to tell him that she’s so much better after the therapy sessions. And after a week of regular medication, she’s more active, carrying on more conversations than normal. “She’s doing well here.”
“I’m not suggesting that she’s not.” He runs his hand over his chin and tells me, “Sometimes… people need justice. And it’s hard to define what that is. Five men died that night and in my opinion, they should have been dead long before it for the things they’d done and gotten away with. My job is to protect and serve. It’s not so different from yours when you think about it.”
“So you don’t want to take her in even though you think she did it… because you’re okay that she did it.”
“I didn’t say that,” he replies and shakes his head. “I just need to be sure that what I’m doing will help her.”
“Do you think she really did it? You still have the theory that Marcus helped her and the others get revenge.” Saying Marcus’s name to Walsh seems wrong and makes me uneasy but he doesn’t react, he doesn’t even look away from the sign-in sheet. Not until he speaks again.
“I think she knew and what I found today… I think she knew about the priest being there and I want to know why.”
His admission startles me. “There was only one name on the list of confessors before the priest left. Witnesses verify he left the church a quarter after seven. It was Melody’s name—she was the last one to see him before he burned to death with the rest of them.”
“And still… you aren’t going to bring her in?”
“She has motive for one of the murders. We have circumstantial evidence now for the priest. That’s all I’ve got.”
I nod, understanding. “If she confesses here though… would it count?”
A sad smile graces his lips. “Count?” He rocks on his heels and looks up at the ceiling before swallowing tightly. “I don’t want her,” he admits to me in almost a whisper. His pale blue eyes seek mine out, begging me to understand.
“You want Marcus,” I surmise.
“That’s all I want. If she can give me something on him…”
“What about the others? Her friends from the support group. The ones you think came up with all this? Why don’t you ask them?”
“I have. No one mentioned Marcus or admitted to anything. I know Melody’s case. I’d spoken to her when she came to me a couple of months ago. I think that’s the only reason she’s opened up. She’s the only one who’s given me anything. She’s the one with remorse.”
I could point out that she’s also drugged and not in her right mind, but I bite down on that thought in favor of something else. “Have you brought them in? The others to question them?”
“I don’t want to. The thing is, there isn’t an ounce of me that thinks they’ll do something like this again. I also don’t believe they would have done it at all had Marcus not urged them to do it. Given them the solution and laid out the plan.”
“Do you know that’s what happened for sure?” I ask him. “Sometimes people do things… you don’t expect.”
“Trust me, I’ve seen my share. It’s my gut feeling. Marcus will never stop. Since I’ve shown up, the death rate has only increased. He’s keeping me busy.”