13
AUDRA SAT IN silence. Cuffs around her wrists, joined by a chain threaded through a metal loop on the table. The room was painted battleship gray over cinderblock, chipped linoleum on the floor, one small grimy frosted window reinforced with wire mesh. The table’s vinyl top flaked in places, showing the particleboard beneath. The whole station was like that, verging on ruin, as if the people here had simply given up.
It occurred to Audra that one good yank would probably pull the loop out of the tabletop. And what then? The state patrolman by the door would have her face down on the floor within seconds, that’s what.
The patrolman stared straight ahead, hadn’t moved a muscle in the hour she’d been in the interview room, not even to clear his throat. She had tried talking to him, asking about her children, asking for a lawyer. Nothing. He was a big man, all biceps and belly, with meaty fists. His uniform was an almost identical beige to the sheriff’s; Audra wouldn’t have known he was a state cop, had she not been told.
A knock on the door, and Audra’s gaze jerked toward it. The patrolman turned and opened it a few inches. A string of whispers, then the patrolman stepped aside to allow a young well-dressed man to enter. A conservative suit, a plain tie. The patrolman had said the FBI were coming, and this young man had to be one of them.
He carried a tripod, its legs bunched together, a small camera mounted on top. A minute of fussing and adjusting and he had it set up in the corner, the lens aimed at Audra. He pressed a button, then another, rotated a display so he could see it. Once satisfied, he nodded, and went to leave.
‘Excuse me,’ Audra said.
The FBI man ignored her, grabbed the door handle.
‘Sir, please.’
He stopped, turned back to her.
‘Please, sir, tell me what’s happening.’
He allowed her a pained smile. ‘We’ll be with you presently, ma’am.’
As he opened the door and stepped through, Audra called after him, ‘Have you found my children? Are you looking for them?’
The door closed. Audra dipped her head, brought her hands to her mouth, whispered into the cup of her palm, ‘Goddamn you.’
The patrolman looked at her now. ‘Excuse me?’
Audra held his gaze. ‘Are they looking for my children?’
‘I wouldn’t know anything about that, ma’am.’ He returned his attention to the far wall.
‘When can I get a lawyer?’ she asked.
The patrolman remained silent.
Audra exhaled, spread her hands on the table, willed her mind to level out, to be calm. She found a crack in the vinyl that looked like a black lightning bolt. She stared at it, followed its arcs and branches, focused in on the details, felt order restored within.
Another knock on the door, harder this time, and the trooper had to sidestep it as it swung open. A woman and a man entered, both suited, her attire crisper than his. She was tall, long-limbed, dark-skinned, her Afro hair cut tight to her scalp, bright eyes that suggested a deep intelligence. The man shambled behind her, a nest of gray-blond hair on his head, the lined face of a smoker. He gave a phlegmy cough and drew out a seat and dropped into it. The woman remained standing, an iPad tucked beneath her arm, along with a notepad and pen.
‘Mrs Kinney, I’m Special Agent Jennifer Mitchell from the Child Abduction Response Deployment team, Federal Bureau of Investigation, based out of Los Angeles. May I sit down?’
Audra nodded.
Mitchell smiled, said thank you, and took her seat. The man bristled and coughed again. Audra caught the stale cigarette smell drifting across the table.
‘This gentleman is Detective Lyle Showalter from the Arizona Department of Public Safety, Criminal Investigations Division, based out of Phoenix. Detective Showalter is here strictly to observe. Let me be clear, I am in charge of the investigation into your children’s whereabouts.’
As Showalter rolled his eyes and shared a smirk with the patrolman, Audra opened her mouth to speak. Mitchell silenced her with a raised hand.
‘Before we begin,’ she said, ‘there are a few things you should be aware of. Firstly, although you are under arrest for possession of marijuana, this interview does not concern that. Further, you are not under arrest in connection with the disappearance of your children, and you have no entitlement to the presence of a lawyer during this interview. You are therefore free to terminate the interview anytime. I should warn you, however, that failure to cooperate in this matter will not help you. Finally, you see that camera?’
Audra nodded.
‘That camera is recording this interview, and I will share footage of this interview with as many other investigators or agencies as I deem necessary to the advancement of this investigation. Mrs Kinney, do you understand everything I’ve just told you?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Audra said, her voice small and whispery in her throat.
Mitchell pointed at the shackles on Audra’s wrists. ‘Officer, I don’t think those are necessary, do you?’
The patrolman looked to Showalter, who nodded. He left his position at the door, taking a key from his pocket as he approached the table, unlocked the bracelets, let them clatter on the tabletop.
‘Are those the clothes you were wearing when you were arrested yesterday?’ Mitchell asked, pointing with her pen.
‘Yes,’ Audra said.
Mitchell closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them again and said, ‘They should have been removed as evidence. Once we’re done here, we’ll get you something else to wear. Now, shall we start?’
‘Okay,’ Audra said.
Mitchell smiled. ‘Comfortable? Would you like some water?’
Audra shook her head.
‘Mrs Kinney … Audra … may I call you Audra?’
Audra nodded.
Mitchell took a breath, smiled, and asked, ‘Audra, what did you do with your children?’
Audra’s head went light and full of sparks. She gripped the edge of the table to steady herself. Her mouth opened and closed, no words to fall from it.
‘Audra, where are they?’
Stay calm, she thought. Reason with her. Explain.
Still gripping the table, Audra took a long deep breath, filled her lungs. ‘They took them.’
‘Who took them?’
‘The sheriff,’ Audra said, her voice rising. She waved her hand at the wall as if Whiteside was on the other side, ear pressed to the cinderblock. ‘And the deputy, the woman, I don’t remember her name.’
‘Do you mean Sheriff Whiteside and Deputy Collins?’
‘Yes, Collins, that’s her.’ Audra became aware of the brittle edge to her voice, breathed again, tried to smooth it. ‘Deputy Collins took Sean and Louise away while I was in the sheriff’s car waiting for the tow truck.’
‘Is that right?’
‘Yes, that’s right. They took them.’
‘I see.’ Mitchell gave her a small, kind smile. ‘Thing is, Audra, Sheriff Whiteside doesn’t remember it like that. He told me this morning that there were no children in the car when he pulled you over.’
‘He’s lying,’ Audra said, her nails digging into her palm.
‘And Deputy Collins says she was nowhere near the County Road when you were stopped. She drove over there to assist Sheriff Whiteside in searching you.’
‘She’s lying too. Don’t you see that?’
‘I also spoke very briefly with a Mr Emmet Calhoun just about thirty minutes ago, and he tells me there were no children around when he towed the car. He thought it odd at the time, because of the booster seat and various bits and pieces he saw in there. He said it was just you in the back of Sheriff Whiteside’s cruiser.’
‘But he came after,’ Audra said, loud enough to make Showalter wince. ‘Of course he didn’t see them, he didn’t get there till after my children had been taken.’
Mitchell laid her hands flat on the table, spread her fingers, like smoothing a sheet. ‘Audra, I need you to calm down. I need you to try to do that for me, okay? I can’t help you unless you’re calm.’
‘I’m calm,’ Audra said, lowering her voice. ‘I’m calm. But I want my children back. They took them. Why aren’t you out looking for them?’
Showalter spoke for the first time. ‘We’ve had a helicopter up in the air since first light, searching from here down to Scottsdale. My colleagues are liaising with police and sheriff’s departments in neighboring counties, getting search parties together. Don’t worry, Mrs Kinney, whatever you did with those kids, we’re going to find them.’
Audra slapped the table with her palm. ‘I didn’t do anything with them. Whiteside and Collins have them, for Christ’s sake, why won’t you listen?’
Mitchell held her gaze for a moment, before turning it to the iPad that lay on the table in front of her. She entered a passcode, illuminating the screen.
‘Audra, I need to show you something.’
Audra sat back in the chair, fear tightening her chest.
Mitchell said, ‘Agents from the Phoenix field office have given your car a preliminary search before it goes to the CID pound for a more detailed analysis. They took a few pictures. Do you recognize this?’
She pulled up an image, turned the iPad so Audra could see it. A striped T-shirt. Sean’s. A reddish-brown stain on the front.
‘Wait, no—’
Mitchell swiped a finger across the screen, replacing that image with another. ‘And this?’
The interior of Audra’s car, the rear footwells, the back of the passenger seat, the passenger-side rear door. With the tip of her pen, Mitchell indicated several points across the image.
‘I’d say those look like bloodstains. What do you think?’
Audra shook her head. ‘No, it’s Sean, he gets nosebleeds. He had one day before yesterday. I had to pull over and get him cleaned up. I wiped around the car, but I couldn’t do it properly, there was no time, it was getting dark.’
Mitchell swiped again. Another image.
Audra said, ‘Oh God.’
‘Audra, tell me what you see in this picture.’
‘Louise’s jeans,’ Audra said. Fresh tears came as she began to quiver. ‘Oh God. And her underpants.’
‘Lying in the rear passenger-side footwell,’ Mitchell said. ‘They were tucked underneath the passenger seat.’
‘How … how …?’
‘Audra, can you make this out?’ Mitchell put the tip of her pen to the image. ‘The jeans appear to be ripped, with blood on them. You can’t tell from the image, but they’re also damp with what seems to be urine. Is there anything you want to say about that?’
Audra studied the photograph, the jeans, the stitched tulips for pockets.
‘She was wearing them,’ she said.
‘Your daughter was wearing these jeans,’ Mitchell echoed. ‘When was she wearing them?’
‘When she took her.’
‘When who took her?’
‘Deputy Collins. When she took my children away, Louise was wearing those. But they weren’t torn. There was no blood on them.’
‘Then how did these jeans wind up back in your car? After it was towed away, how did they get there?’
Audra shook her head, tears free-flowing down her cheeks, dropping fat and heavy on the table. ‘I don’t know, but the sheriff and the deputy, they took my children, they know where they are. Please make them tell you.’
An idea sparked in her mind so bright and clear that she gasped. She put a hand to her mouth.
Mitchell leaned back. ‘What?’
‘The cameras,’ Audra said, feeling a giddy fizz behind her eyes. ‘The police cars, they all have cameras, right? Like you see on TV, when they do a traffic stop, they record it all, don’t they? Don’t they?’
Mitchell gave her a sad smile. ‘No, Audra, not in Elder County. Deputy Collins’ cruiser is almost fifteen years old, it’s never had a dashcam fitted, and the one in Sheriff Whiteside’s car stopped working three years ago. There’s never been spare change in the budget to fix it.’
‘What about GPS, anything like that?’
‘Nothing like that.’
The weight of it settled on Audra’s shoulders again – the fear, the anger, the impotence. She covered her eyes with her hands as Mitchell spoke.
‘Now, I’ve listened to what you’ve told me about Sheriff Whiteside and Deputy Collins, and believe me, I will speak with them about that. But right now, even if I discount the things we found in your car, it’s your word against theirs. And I’ve talked to some people today. Including at the diner you ate in early yesterday morning. The manager confirmed Sean and Louise were with you then. As far as I know, she’s the last person to have seen you and your kids together. She said you looked nervous.’
‘Of course I was nervous,’ Audra said through her hands. ‘I was trying to get away from my husband.’
‘I spoke with him too.’
Audra’s hands dropped away from her face. ‘No. Not him. Don’t listen to him. He’s a liar.’
‘You don’t know what he told me yet.’
‘He’s a goddamn liar.’ Audra’s voice rose again. ‘I don’t care what he said. He did this. He paid Whiteside and Collins to take my children from me.’
Mitchell sat quiet for a moment, let the silence dampen Audra’s anger.
‘I spoke with Patrick Kinney early this morning while I was waiting to board the flight from LAX to Phoenix. He told me about the problems you’ve had in the past. The alcohol. The cocaine.’
‘The cocaine was a long time ago, before the children, before Patrick even.’
‘Maybe so, but not the alcohol. Or the prescription meds. He told me you had three different doctors handing out uppers and downers like they were candy. He told me there was a time you barely knew your own children.’
Audra closed her eyes and whispered, ‘Goddamn him. He did this. I know he did.’
‘Mr Kinney told me since you left and took the kids, he’s been trying to get them back.’
‘There, see?’ Audra said, ignoring Mitchell’s irked expression. ‘He’s been trying to take them from me. He paid the sheriff—’
‘Let me finish, Audra. You’ve had New York Children’s Services circling, threatening to take the children back to their father. That’s why you upped and ran four days ago. Isn’t that right?’
‘I wasn’t going to let him take my—’
‘What happened, Audra?’ Mitchell leaned forward, her forearms on the table, her voice smooth and soft and low. ‘I have three kids myself, and an ex-husband. I’m lucky my mom’s around to help, but even so, they’re a handful. Raising children is hard. So hard. It’s stressful, you know? Even with all the love I have inside me, when they push hard, I can only bend so far. Every mother should get a medal, I think, just for getting through a day with children.’
She leaned closer still, her voice dropping in pitch, honey-sweet, her brown eyes fixed on Audra’s.
‘So tell me what happened. You’ve been driving for four days straight, you’re tired, you’re scared, the heat is getting to you. Maybe Sean and Louise are bickering in the backseat, you know the way children do. Maybe they keep asking for things they can’t have, even though you told them no a hundred times already. Maybe they’re shouting and screaming, over and over and over, louder and louder, and they just won’t stop. Did you do something, Audra? Did you pull over someplace out in the desert and go back there to them? Maybe you only meant to chew them out. Maybe a little smack on the leg or the arm. Maybe a shake, that’s all. I know that’s all you meant to do, I’ve wanted to do it to my own kids plenty of times, but you just lost control for a moment. Just for a split second, that’s all, and you did something. Is that what happened, Audra? I know it’s eating you. All you have to do is tell me, and we can go get them and this will all be over. Just tell me, Audra, what did you do?’
Audra stared at Mitchell, something burning inside her chest.
‘You think I hurt my children?’
Mitchell blinked and said, ‘I don’t know. Did you?’
‘My son, my daughter, they’re both out there somewhere, and you’re not looking for them because you think I hurt them.’
The same soft smile, the same honey voice. ‘Did you?’
With no conscious thought, Audra’s right hand lashed out, across the table, her palm striking Mitchell’s cheek hard and clean. Mitchell recoiled, anger in her eyes, the sting blooming on Audra’s hand.
Audra got to her feet and said, ‘Goddamn you, find my children.’
She didn’t see the patrolman come at her, only felt his bulk slam into her body, the floor racing up at her. Her chest hit the linoleum, crushing all the air from her lungs, the patrolman’s knee on her back, big hands seizing her wrists, forcing them up behind her shoulders.
Audra kept her gaze on Mitchell, who stood at the far wall, breathing hard.
‘Find my children,’ Audra said.