J. Robb - Innocent In Death

“Nothing happened to Melodie, and nothing will,” Eve interrupted. “Go on, Melodie.”

“She just asked me to keep it, not to tell about what was going on, not to tellanyone that she gave it to me. It’s private, it’s a diary. It wouldn’t be right for strangers to read her private thoughts. She could trust me because we’re best friends. And I took it back to her last night, just like she asked. Now she’ll be mad at me because I told.”

“No, she won’t.” Angela said it absently, staring at Eve’s face. “It’s going to be all right, don’t worry.” She rose, standing Melodie on her feet. “I’m proud that you told the truth, because that was the right thing to do, and the hard thing to do. You go on, get yourself a cherry fizzy. I’ll be right there.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been mean to you.”

“I’m sorry, too, sweetie. Go get us both a big fizzy.”

Sniffling, Melodie nodded, and left the room, dragging her heels.

“I don’t know why you’d need a child’s diary. I don’t understand how that could possibly pertain to your investigation.”

“It’s an element that requires attention.”

“You’re not going to tell me what I need or want to know about this, and my daughter needsmy attention. But I want you to tell me if I should keep Melodie away from the Straffos. I want you to tell me if her being with Rayleen and the family is dangerous to her.”

“I don’t believe she’s in any danger, but you may feel more comfortable, for the time being, restricting that contact.” Better, all around, Eve thought, and made sure Angela understood it. “It’s important that neither you nor Melodie speak of this conversation or the diary to the Straffos, or to anyone else.”

“I think Melodie and I are going away for the rest of the weekend, maybe take a long weekend trip.” Angela let out an unsteady breath. “She can start school on Tuesday.”

“That sounds like a nice idea,” Eve said. “I’m no authority on kids, Ms. Miles-Branch, but my impression is you’ve got a good one there.”

“I’ve got a very good one there. Thank you.”

Eve gave Peabody a chance to speak as they rode down from the Miles-Branch apartment. When she remained silent, Eve waited until they were in the car.

“Thoughts? Comments? Questions?”

“I guess I’m compiling them.” Peabody puffed out her cheeks. “I have to say, on the surface, it seems pretty innocent, and fairly typical, for a kid to hide her diary, or ask a trusted friend to hold it for her if she’s afraid somebody-an adult, an authority figure-is going to put eyes on it. Girls, especially girls, are hypersensitive about that kind of thing.”

“And under the surface?”

“Which is where you’re looking, and I get that. From that point of view, the fact that there is a diary, that Rayleen went to some trouble to get it out of the house before we searched, adds a certain weight to your theory.”

And Eve heard the doubt. “But from where you’re sitting, it’s still typical girl stuff.”

“It’s pretty hard for me to see it differently. Sorry, Dallas, sheis a girl.”

“What if she were sixteen, or twenty-six?”

“Dallas, you know there’s a world of difference.”

“That’s what I’m trying to decide,” Eve said, and swung toward the curb in front of the Straffos’ building.

It was Allika who opened the door. She looked pinched and heavy-eyed, like someone who’d slept poorly several nights running. She wasn’t yet dressed for the day, and wore a long gray robe.

“Please,” she said, “can’t you leave us alone?”

“We need to speak with you, Mrs. Straffo. We’d prefer to do it inside, where it’s private and you can be comfortable.”

“Why do the police feel being interrogated in your own home is comfortable?”

“I said speak with you, not interrogate you. Is there a reason you’re hesitant to hold a conversation with us?”

Allika closed her eyes a moment. “I’ll need to contact my husband.”

“Do you feel you need a lawyer?”

“He’s not just a lawyer.” She snapped it, then pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I have a headache. I’m trying to rest before I need to pick up my daughter.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but we have questions that require answers.” Eve took aim and pushed the weak spot. “If you feel the need to contact your husband, why don’t you suggest he meet the three of us down at Central? We’ll make this formal.”

“That sounds almost threatening.”

“The three of us here, the four of us there. Take it any way you like.”

“Oh, come in then. Get it over with. You police have a way of making victims feel like criminals.”

She stalked into the living area and, in a gesture very similar to the sulky Melodie’s, dropped into a chair. “What do you want?”

“We have reason to believe there was an item taken off the premises prior to the execution of the search that may be germane to the investigation.”

“That’s ridiculous. Nothing was taken out of the house, and nothing that was ever in it isgermane to your investigation.”

“Your daughter removed her diary.”

“I beg your pardon?” Allika sat up now, and there was a ripple, just the faintest ripple, of fear in her voice. “What does Rayleen’s diary have to do with anything?”

“She removed it prior to the search, and has since taken possession of it again. Do you know where it is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Have you read it?”

“No, I haven’t. We respect each other’s privacy in this house.”

“We need to see the diary, Mrs. Straffo.”

“What’s wrong with you? How can you accuse a child of something so horrible?”

“I haven’t accused Rayleen of anything. What do you think she did? What do you think she’s capable of doing, Allika?” Eve leaned forward. “What has you sick, and sleepless, and scared?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what you mean.” Her fingers began to pleat the skirt of her robe. “You have to stop this. You have to stop it.”

“I’m going to stop it. I’m going to stop her. You know this can’t go on.”

“You need to go. I want you to leave now.”

Eve pressed down hard on the next weak spot. “Why do you keep all your son’s pictures hidden away? Why do you hide a piece of his blanket, his little toy dog, all of those parts of him? Why is that, Allika?”

“He was my baby. He was my boy.” Tears gushed now.

“But you don’t have pictures of your baby, you don’t have memories of your boy sitting out, in the open. Why is that?”

“It’s painful. It’s upsetting to…”

“To Rayleen. She doesn’t like it, does she? Doesn’t like you or Oliver looking at pictures of another child. It needs to be about her, only her. She never liked sharing the attention, did she?”

“It’s natural, it’s perfectly natural for a first child to be jealous of a new baby. To have a period of adjustment. Sibling-sibling rivalry.”

“It was more than that, wasn’t it? Then she finally did something about it, on that Christmas Eve. Why should she have to share those toys? Why should he get your time, whenshe was first. So she got him out of bed, she led him to the top of the stairs. Didn’t she?”

“It was an accident.” Allika covered her face with her hands, rocked. “It was an accident. She was asleep. We were all asleep. Oh, God, please, don’t do this.”

“No, she wasn’t asleep. You know she wasn’t.”

“She didn’t mean…she couldn’t have meant…Please, God.”

“Tell me what happened that morning, Allika.”

“It was just as I told you. We were all asleep, all asleep.” She dropped her hands now, and her face was ghost white, her eyes dull.