Blood on My Hands

her urging me to cooperate with the police and do whatever they tell me. After all she’s been through with my brother, I take the advice seriously. There’s a knock on the door and a thin, balding man with a salt-and-pepper moustache sticks his head in. Before he speaks, he looks at me for longer than necessary, as if I’m something he’s never seen before. Then he turns to the police chief: “PD’s here.”
    I recognize the voice. He was the one speaking to Chief Jenkins in the lounge this morning.
    The police chief turns to me. “We’re going to question you, Callie. You’re entitled to legal representation, and I’ve taken the liberty of requesting a public defender. Chief Detective Bloom will take you down to the lab.”
    I follow the chief detective down a hall, thinking, Oh no, not another public defender . We go into a police lab no larger than a closet. Inside, a policewoman asks me to open my mouth, and then rubs the inside of my cheek with several different-colored swabs. She also takes my fingerprints.
    Next I’m taken to a bare room with a table, some chairs, a large mirror against one wall, and a video camera on a tripod. A woman in a black suit jacket and skirt is sitting in one of the chairs, speaking on a cell phone. She’s small, maybe a few inches taller than me, and has mahogany skin and neat shoulder-length brown hair.
    “That’s correct, Mrs. Carson,” she says into the phone while giving me the straight index finger “just a moment” sign. “Yes, of course. I’ll call you as soon as I can.”
    She snaps the phone shut. Bloom leaves us, and the woman introduces herself as Gail and tells me she’s a public defender. “So I guess you know I was just speaking to your mom.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “She gave me permission to represent you. I’ve just been called on to this case, so all I know is what I’ve read in the news and seen on TV. What I’m going to do today is listen to each question they ask and let you know whether or not I think it’s okay for you to answer. If I tell you it’s okay, it’s important that you answer honestly and directly. But only answer the question, Callie. Don’t provide any additional information unless they specifically ask for it. And remember, they’re not just asking these questions for information. Depending on how you answer them, they’ll be trying to assess whether or not you’re telling them the truth. So try not to do the things that make people look guilty.”
    “But I’m not guilty,” I protest.
    Gail nods perfunctorily, as if this isn’t the first time someone’s said that to her. “Good. So maintain eye contact. Be aware that they’ll probably repeat certain questions at different times in the interview to see if there are inconsistencies in your story.”
    Her attitude reminds me of that of Sebastian’s public defender. They don’t even think about trying to prove you’re innocent. All they want to do is make a plea bargain and move on to the next case until they’ve gotten enough experience to get hired by a private law firm and start making real money.
    “Ready?” Gail asks, and without waiting for my answer, she goes to the door and opens it. A moment later Chief Jenkins and Chief Detective Bloom enter. Bloom goes to the video camera, turns it on, and makes sure it’s aimed at me. Then he and Chief Jenkins sit down.
    “Tell us everything you remember from the night Katherine Remington-Day was murdered,” Bloom says.
    I turn to Gail, who nods; then I tell them what I remember. The two men take notes. When I’m finished, Chief Jenkins says, “You’re certain it was Dakota Jenkins who told you to look for Katherine?”
    “Yes.”
    “And she specifically told you to look around the dugout?”
    “Yes.”
    Bloom asks, “Was there anyone else with her when she told you where to look?”
    “I don’t think so. I think she was alone. Why?”
    “We need corroboration,” Chief Jenkins replies. “Someone else to testify that what you’re saying is true.”
    “But why would I lie?” I ask.
    “Callie,” Gail says, interrupting. “It’s best to let them ask the questions. All you have to do is answer and tell the truth.”
    “No one’s accusing you of lying, Callie,” says Chief Jenkins. “This is just the way the law works. Testimony needs to be corroborated.”
    Bloom continues the thread: “When you went toward the dugout, did you see anyone else around there?”
    I try my best to remember, then