one hand in my T-shirt and turned away so Beth wouldnât see my face. âUm,â I said, trying to keep my voice ordinary. âWhat do you mean?â
âWell, from what your brother Jamie and the other boyâ¦,â he paused, âFrederââ
âKit,â I said.
âRight, Kit. From what they said, none of you moved the victim.â
âNo, we didnât do anything to her,â I said quickly. âI mean, I pulled down her shirt because it was up over her stomach, butââ
âThe reason I ask is that weâre not finding any ID on her. No wallet, no license, no purse or other kind of personal effects. Itâsâwell, itâs unusual, and itâs going to make our job a lot harder. I wondered if you or the boys might have picked something up at the scene. Something that belonged to the victim.â He hesitated. âI understand you were pretty upset, and maybe you didnât realizeâ¦â He was waiting for me to say something.
But I couldnât do it. He wasnât looking for a bracelet, anyway. He was looking for something with her name on it. The bracelet didnât matter to anyone but me. âNo,â I said. âThatâs how she was when we found her.â
âHmmm. Well, okay, then. Weâve examined the car, and we should have the preliminary coronerâs report in a few hours. I told Ms. Osway that Iâm going to release your brother for the time being.â
âYou are?â I gripped the phone, my stomach fluttering with hope. âItâs all right for him to leave?â
âNot leave the area, no. But his alcohol level and everything else checked out okay. We donât need to keep him here at the station, as long as I know where to reach him.â He paused. âIâll see you later today, Miss Martinez.â
âOkay. Bye.â I hung up the phone and turned to Beth, who was watching me. âHe said Jamie can go.â
She nodded. âYes, we can pick him up around ten. Thatâs good. I guess the Breathalyzer test turned out fine.â
âSo they know it wasnât his fault? They wonât, like, press charges or anything?â
She poured coffee into two mugs. âHe didnât say that,â she said carefully.
âBut donât you thinkââ
âI think itâs good that theyâre releasing him.â She looked at me with the same appraising gaze she seemed to wear, not sympathetic, not even polite, just watchful and assessing. âBut I wouldnât assume anything. Not when someoneâs dead.â
I flinched.
She pushed one of the mugs across the counter toward me and cupped hers with both hands. She was silent. I sniffed the bitter steam. It reminded me of my mom having breakfast at home. I didnât usually drink coffee, but now I tasted it, somehow afraid not to. It scalded my tongue.
I tried to think of something else to talk about. âHow long have you lived here?â
âNine years. I came from Detroit.â
âReally? By yourself? You donât have a husband or kids or anything?â
âNo. Iâm divorced. He took the house, I got the dogs.â
âBut you said you donât like dogs.â
âRight. Thatâs divorce. You each get half, but not the half you want.â She smiled a little, running her hands through her hair and tucking it behind her ears. âIâm used to them now.â
I thought of how this place seemed at night, as vast and bottomless as the ocean. I couldnât imagine living here by myself. âArenât you scared? Being out here alone?â
Beth sipped her coffee. âNo, not really. The dogs are too friendly to be much protection, but they make a lot of noise.â She looked out the window. âI like it here. Itâs quiet. And when you get used to it, the desertâs beautiful.â
âBut itâs so empty,â I said.
Beth