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“Huh?” Debbie’s eyes flashed open.
“When he came over Friday night, did he have the building materials for the bookcase, or did he get them Saturday?”
Debbie was seized by a moment of panic and indecision. I guessed that she and Nye hadn’t covered that when Nye concocted the alibi.
“He brought the supplies with him,” Debbie said.
“Okey-dokey,” I replied, pretending that I was barely paying attention. “Then what did you do?”
“Umm, we went shopping for clothes. We went to the Northtown Mall because we wanted to buy some clothes. I wanted to buy some clothes. But we couldn’t find anything I liked so we didn’t buy anything.”
“What happened next?”
“We decided to stay in again . . .”
“Sure.”
“We rented a couple of movies. I don’t remember what. Something with Bruce Willis.”
“Where did you rent the movies?” I asked.
“Rent them?”
“Yes. Where did you rent the movies?”
“At the mall.”
“Northtown?”
“Yes.”
“Which store?”
“Store?”
“Which video store did you rent the movies from?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Well, that’s easy enough to check.”
“It is?”
“Sure. They keep records, the video stores.”
Debbie’s face grew even more pale, and she began to tremble slightly as if she were caught in a sudden draft. She pulled at her collar again, and I saw more bruising. I wondered if it was confined only to her throat or if Nye had damaged other parts of her body as well.
“What did you do after you rented the movies?” I asked.
Debbie bit her lower lip. “We stopped at Leeann Chin for takeout and went back to my apartment and stayed there together eating and watching movies and stuff until about three Sunday morning.” Debbie spoke as if she were trying to get it all out in a single breath.
I made a production out of not writing down her answer. I closed the notebook instead and gazed idly out the window while pretending I wasn’t watching Debbie intently in its reflection. I sighed dramatically.
“You really love this guy,” I said.
Debbie was surprised by the question.
“You do, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Debbie answered weakly.
“Even though he hurts you?”
Debbie’s hand leapt to her throat. “He doesn’t,” she said.
“Sure he does. He beats you. What else does he do? Does he embarrass you? Humiliate you? When you make love, is it fun? Fun for you, I mean. I bet it’s fun for him.”
Debbie turned her head away. The beginning of tears formed at the corners of her eyes. I was sure they were more from tension than sorrow.
“Yet you still love him?” I said.
Debbie nodded.
“Do you love him enough to go to prison for him?”
“Go to prison?”
“That’s what’s going to happen if you keep lying for him.”
“I’m not lying,” Debbie protested. There wasn’t much energy in her words.
I turned in the chair so I could look the woman directly in the eyes. “Debbie,” I said. “There is no Leeann Chin at Northtown.”
Debbie’s mouth fell open for a brief moment, and I half expected her to call me a liar. Truth was, I didn’t know if the popular chain of Chinese restaurants had a store in the mall or not. Then, instead of calling my bluff, Debbie closed her mouth and shook her head.
“Tell me the truth,” I told her.
Debbie shook her head again; with her lips pressed tightly together, she looked like like an errant child afraid to speak.
“Are you lying because you love Nye or because you’re afraid of him? Because if you’re afraid of him—” I rested my hand on top of hers. She tried to pull it away, but I held on tight. “If you’re afraid of him, well, that’s something I can take care of.”
“You?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Debbie shook her head.
“You don’t know him. He’s . . . He doesn’t feel.”
He’d feel it if I put my hands around his throat and squeezed like he obviously did to you, my inner voice said, but I kept it to myself.
“I can protect you,” I said. “You have my word.” I removed a business card from my pocket and thrust it into Debbie’s hand. “That has my home and cell number.”
Debbie took the card but refused to look at me.
“Listen,” I said. “Listen to me, please. Will you listen?”
Debbie didn’t respond.
“You’re making a big mistake helping Richard Nye. He’s no good, and he’s going to hurt you. Hurt you worse than he already has. It’s just a matter of time. I think you know that. Here’s the thing—you can get away from him. Free yourself. I can help. The lawyer I work for can help, too.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“It would be a lot easier now with us than if you tried to do it alone later.”
I thought I saw Debbie’s head nod.
“Think about what I said,” I told her. “Keep the card. If you need help or if you just need somebody to talk to, you can call me. You can call me anytime you want. Anytime. Okay? Will you do that? I want to help you.”