Page 90
Story: The Last Party
Everyone’s eyes swung over to me. If there was a sign of the disaster ahead, this was it.
“Wait.” I started toward her. “You’re saying I told you to come here? When?”
Lieutenant Johnson stepped into my line of sight, blocking me from going any farther. “I’m sorry, I have to do my best to keep everything clean until the detectives get here. Miss?” He pointed to the closest officer. “Please go with this gentleman and tell him your story.”
He turned to me. “Mr. Wultz, let’s get you somewhere you can relax. You mentioned the girls who were sleeping over. I’ll need to get all of their names so we can contact their parents.”
I glanced over, watching as the officer helped Paige out of her car. She was in leggings and a T-shirt, and our eyes met over the top of the car. She looked scared, and I wanted to reassure her, but I also had no idea what she was about to tell the officers about me.
I followed Johnson up the front path of the house. Someone had flipped on the porch light, and he pointed to the seating area on the right side of the expansive porch. We never sat out here, preferring the back views to the front, and I took a spot on the sectional couch and sank down an unexpected amount.
The other cop was leading Paige around to the back of her car, but they were too far away for me to hear anything. “I didn’t tell her to come here,” I muttered to Johnson. “I don’t ever even talk to her. I’ve said like, three things to her, ever.”
Tell her how nice she looks, Grant.
I need to text Paige. Let me use your phone.
“It’ll all get sorted,” he said. “Right now we just want to make sure that the scene is contained and we get down the details while they are still fresh in your mind.”
I shouldn’t be telling him anything more. I’d probably already said too much, given some detail I would be tried and condemned on. “I need to call a lawyer,” I said, rubbing my face. “And I need to find my phone, if you could ask the officers to look for it. Maybe it’s on her. I didn’t think about checking her pockets, if she even had any.”
“No problem.” He stood between me and the front door, his posture relaxed. “You guys had any problems in your marriage? Any fights? Talk of divorce?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“What about in the past?”
“No.”
“Any infidelity?”
I thought of Marci Vennigan and that one kiss, the night of the Christmas party. “No.”
He nodded. “Okay. Detective Heinwright is on his way. He’ll have you run through what happened again; then we’ll get you out of here and to your daughter. You mentioned she might have been drugged, so we will need to have her and all of the girls checked.” He pulled a notepad out of his front pocket. “Let me go ahead and get their names.”
I looked at the house, where flashlights were visible through the windows, dancing over our walls, then back at the car, where Paige was talking animatedly, her hands waving through the air, and wondered what other surprises Perla had in store for me.
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