Nineteen Minutes Read online

  "He was devastated, just like we were. He cried a lot. Spent time in his room."

  "Did your relationship with Peter change after Joey died?"

  "I think it got stronger," Lacy said. "I was so overwhelmed. Peter . . . he let us lean on him."

  "Did he lean on anyone else? Have any intimate relationships?"

  "You mean with girls?"

  "Or boys," Selena said.

  "He was still at that awkward age. I know he'd asked a few girls out, but I don't think anything ever came of it."

  "How were Peter's grades?"

  "He wasn't a straight-A student like his brother," Lacy said, "but he'd get B's and the occasional C. We always told him to just do the best he could."

  "Did he have any learning disabilities?"

  "No."

  "What about outside of school? What did he like to do?" Selena asked.

  "He'd listen to music. Play video games. Like any other teenager."

  "Did you ever listen to his music, or play those games?"

  Lacy let a smile ghost over her face. "I actively tried not to."

  "Did you monitor his Internet use?"

  "He was only supposed to be using it for school projects. We had long talks about chat rooms and how unsafe the Internet can be, but Peter had a good head on his shoulders. We--" She broke off, looking away. "We trusted him."

  "Did you know what he was downloading?"

  "No."

  "What about weapons? Do you know where he got them from?"

  Lacy took a deep breath. "Lewis hunts. He took Peter out with him once, but Peter didn't like it very much. The shotguns are always locked in a gun case--"

  "And Peter knew where the key was."

  "Yes," Lacy murmured.

  "What about the pistols?"

  "We've never had those in our house. I have no idea where they came from."

  "Did you ever check his room? Under the bed, in the closets, that kind of thing?"

  Lacy met her gaze. "We've always respected his privacy. I think it's important for a child to have his own space, and--" She pressed her lips shut.

  "And?"

  "And sometimes when you start looking," Lacy said softly, "you find things you don't really want to see."

  Selena leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. "When did that happen, Lacy?"

  Lacy walked to the window, drawing aside the curtain. "You would have had to know Joey to understand. He was a senior, an honors student, an athlete. And then, a week before graduation, he was killed." She let her hand trail the edge of the fabric. "Someone had to go through his room--pack it up, get rid of the things we didn't want to keep. It took me a while, but finally, I did it. I was going through his drawers when I found the drugs. Just a little powder, in a gum wrapper, and a spoon and a needle. I didn't know it was heroin until I looked it up on the Internet. I flushed it down the toilet and threw the hypodermic out at work." She turned toward Selena, her face red. "I can't believe I'm telling you this. I've never told anyone, not even Lewis. I didn't want him--or anyone--to think anything bad about Joey."

  Lacy sat down on the couch again. "I didn't go into Peter's room on purpose, because I was afraid of what I'd find," she confessed. "I didn't know that it could be even worse."

  "Did you ever interrupt him when he was in his room? Knock on the door, pop your head inside?"

  "Sure. I'd come in to say good night."

  "What was he usually doing?"

  "He was on his computer," Lacy said. "Almost always."

  "Didn't you see what was on the screen?"

  "I don't know. He'd close the file."

  "How did he act when you interrupted him unexpectedly? Did he seem upset? Annoyed? Guilty?"

  "Why does it feel like you're judging him?" Lacy said. "Aren't you supposed to be on our side?"

  Selena met her gaze steadily. "The only way I can thoroughly investigate this case is to ask you the facts, Mrs. Houghton. That's all I'm doing."

  "He was like any other teenager," Lacy said. "He'd suffer while I kissed him good night. He didn't seem embarrassed. He didn't act like he was hiding anything from me. Is that what you want to know?"

  Selena put down her pen. When the subject started getting defensive, it was time to end the interview. But Lacy was still talking, unprompted.

  "I never thought there was any problem," she admitted. "I didn't know Peter was upset. I didn't know he wanted to kill himself. I didn't know any of those things." She began to cry. "All those families out there, I don't know what to say to them. I wish I could tell them that I lost someone, too. I just lost him a long time ago."

  Selena folded her arms around the smaller woman. "It's not your fault," she said, words she knew Lacy Houghton needed to hear.

  *

  In a fit of high school irony, the principal of Sterling High had placed the Bible Study Club next door to the Gay and Lesbian Alliance. They met Tuesdays, at three-thirty, in Rooms 233 and 234 of the high school. Room 233 was, during the day, Ed McCabe's classroom. One member of the Bible Study Club was the daughter of a local minister, named Grace Murtaugh. She'd been killed in the hallway leading to the gymnasium, shot in front of a water fountain. The leader of the Gay and Lesbian Alliance was still in the hospital: Natalie Zlenko, a yearbook photographer, had come out as a lesbian after her freshman year, when she'd wandered into the GLAAD meeting in Room 233 to see if there was anyone else on this planet like herself.

  "We're not supposed to give out names." Natalie's voice was so faint that Patrick had to lean over the hospital bed to hear her. Natalie's mother hovered at his shoulder. When he'd come in to ask Natalie a few questions, she said that he'd better leave or else she'd call the police. He reminded her that he was the police.

  "I'm not asking for names," Patrick said. "I'm just asking you to help me help a jury understand why this happened."

  Natalie nodded. She closed her eyes.

  "Peter Houghton," Patrick said. "Did he ever attend a meeting?"

  "Once," Natalie said.

  "Did he say or do anything that sticks in your mind?"

  "He didn't say or do anything, period. He showed up the one time, and he never came back."

  "Does that happen often?"

  "Sometimes," Natalie said. "People wouldn't be ready to come out. And sometimes we got jerks who just wanted to know who was gay so that they could make life hell for us in school."

  "In your opinion, did Peter fit into either one of these categories?"

  She was silent for a long time, her eyes still closed. Patrick drew away, thinking that she'd fallen asleep. "Thanks," he said to her mother, just as Natalie spoke again.

  "Peter was getting ragged on long before he ever showed up at that meeting," she said.

  *

  Jordan was on diaper detail while Selena interviewed Lacy Houghton, and Sam was appallingly bad at going to sleep on his own. However, a ten-minute ride in the car could knock the kid out like a prizefighter, so Jordan bundled the baby up and strapped him into the car seat. It wasn't until he put the Saab into reverse that he realized his wheel rims were grinding against the driveway; all four of his tires had been slashed.

  "Fuck," Jordan said, as Sam started to wail again in the backseat. He plucked the baby out, carried him back inside, and tethered him into the Snugli that Selena wore around the house. Then he called the police to report the vandalism.

  Jordan knew he was in trouble when the dispatch officer didn't ask him to spell his last name--he already knew it. "We'll get to it," the officer said. "But first we've got a squirrel up a tree that needs a hand climbing down." The line went dead.

  Could you sue the cops for being unsympathetic bastards?

  Through some miracle--pheromones of stress, probably--Sam fell asleep, but startled, bawling, when the doorbell rang. Jordan yanked the door open to find Selena outside. "You woke up the baby," he accused as she lifted Sam out of the carrier.

  "Then you shouldn't have locked the door. Oh, hi, you sweet man," S