The Empty Chair
damp, ruddy eyes back to Sachs.
Stop it! I can’t take that look! she thought, glancing away.
“And Todd Wilkes? The boy who hung himself? Did you threaten him?”
“No!”
“His brother saw you shouting at him last week.”
“He was dropping lit matches on anthills. That’s shitty and mean and I told him to stop it.”
“What about Lydia?” Bell said. “Why’d you kidnap her ?”
“I was worried about her too.”
“Because she was in Blackwater Landing?”
“Right.”
“You were going to rape her, weren’t you?”
“No!” Garrett started to cry. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. Or anybody! And I didn’t kill Billy! Everybody’s trying to get me to say I did something that I didn’t!”
Bell dug up a Kleenex and handed it to the boy.
The door swung open fast and Mason Germain walked in. He’d probably been the one watching through the one-way mirror and from the look on his face it was clear he’d lost patience. Sachs smelled his raw cologne; she’d come to detest the cloying scent.
“Mason—” Bell began.
“Listen to me, boy, you tell us where that girl is and you tell us now! ’Cause if you don’t you’re going to Lancaster and you’re going to stay there till they put your ass on trial. . . . You heard about Lancaster, haven’t you? Case you haven’t, let me tell—”
“All right, that’s enough,” a high-pitched voice commanded.
A bantam strode into the room—a man even shorter than Mason, with razor-trimmed hair perfectly sprayed into place. A gray suit, all buttons snug, a baby blue shirt and striped tie. He wore shoes with three-inch heels.
“Don’t say another word,” he said to Garrett.
“Hello, Cal,” Bell said, not pleased the visitor was here. The sheriff introduced Sachs to Calvin Fredericks, Garrett’s lawyer.
“What the hell’re you doing interrogating my client without me being here?” He nodded at Mason. “And what the hell was that Lancaster stuff about? I should have you put away for talking to him like that.”
“He knows where the girl is, Cal,” Mason muttered. “He’s not telling us. He had his rights read to him. He—”
“A sixteen-year-old boy? Well, I’m inclined to get this case thrown out right now and get on to an early supper.” He turned to Garrett. “Hey, young man, how you doing?”
“My face itches.”
“They Mace you?”
“Nosir, just happens.”
“We’ll get it taken care of. Get some cream or something. Now, I’m going to be your lawyer. The state appointed me. You don’t have to pay. They read you your rights? Told you you didn’t have to say anything?”
“Yessir. But Sheriff Bell wanted to ask me some questions.”
He said to Bell, “Oh, this’s cute, Jim. What were you thinking of? Four deputies in here?”
Mason said, “We were thinking of Mary Beth McConnell. Who he kidnapped.”
“Allegedly.”
“And raped,” Mason muttered.
“I didn’t!” Garrett shouted.
“We got a bloody tissue with his come all over it,” Mason snapped.
“No, no!” the boy said, his face growing alarmingly red. “Mary Beth hurt herself. That’s what happened. She hit her head and I, like, wiped off the blood with a Kleenex I had in my pocket. And about the other . . . sometimes I just, you know, touch myself . . . I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong. But I can’t help it.”
“Shhhh, Garrett,” Fredericks said, “you don’t have to explain a single thing to anybody.” To Bell he said, “Now, this interrogation is over with. Take him back to the cell.”
As Jesse Corn was leading him out the door Garrett stopped suddenly and turned to Sachs. “Please, you have to do something for me. Please! My room at home—it’s got some jars.”
“Go on, Jesse,” Bell commanded. “Take him out.”
But Sachs found herself saying, “Wait.” To Garrett: “The jars? With your insects?”
The boy nodded. “Will you put water in them? Or at least let them go—outside—so they have a chance. Mr. and Mrs. Babbage, they won’t do anything to keep them alive. Please. . . .”
She hesitated, sensing everyone’s eyes upon her. Then nodded. “I’ll do it. I promise.”
Garrett gave her a faint smile.
Bell looked at Sachs with a cryptic gaze then nodded toward the door and Jesse led the boy out. The lawyerstarted after him but Bell stuck a finger in his chest. “You’re not going anywhere, Cal. We’re sitting here till McGuire shows up.”
“Don’t touch me,
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