Free So Pretty It Hurts by Kate White Page A

didn’t question my presence.
    Before anyone could knock, Scott flung open the double doors. Two plainclothes cops were standing in the cold, their coats dusted with snowflakes. They stepped inside and introduced themselves. Detective Ray was a short, beer-gutted guy of about fifty, with a silver skunk streak in his hair. Detective Collinson was tall, slim, and in his midthirties, I guessed. He was what my mother called black Irish—dark hair, charcoal black eyes, and very white skin, in his case almost Draculean. There was a swollen quality to his face, as if he were on steroids for some kind of health ailment. It was clear after a moment that Collinson, the younger one, was the man in charge.
    Scott explained very quickly what had happened. He presented himself as open, eager to cooperate, but at the same time firmly in charge and not at all obsequious. I would have been impressed except I kept remembering that hours earlier he’d suggested to Jessie that he wanted to add me to his personal spank bank. When he finished talking, I briefly offered my portion of the story, describing how I’d been woken by Laura and had gone into Devon’s room to investigate.
    Natch, the cops wanted to see the body right away. We accompanied them to the small barn, and when we reached Devon’s room, Scott unlocked the door. While the cops entered the room, Scott and I stood silently in the hall cooling our heels, not making eye contact. The police emerged about ten minutes later.
    “Where is this Laura Ash now?” Collinson asked.
    Scott informed them that she was back with the others, and Collinson said he would like to speak to her in private, and then to Scott and me in that order. The other guests could be interviewed randomly once the police were finished with us. Scott suggested using his study on the ground floor of the bigger barn. Devon’s bedroom was relocked before we left.
    Laura was questioned for about ten minutes, and when she came back upstairs, she appeared totally stricken, as if she’d just turned over critical info about a mob boss. I wondered if there was something Laura hadn’t told me or whether she was being eaten up by guilt for not having delivered the water when Devon initially called her. Scott’s interview lasted about twenty minutes, and then it was my turn.
    “You’ve been up since before three,” Collinson said to me, gesturing toward a chair. “You must be awfully tired by this point. I appreciate your cooperation.”
    I had dealt with more than a few local police over the years, and most seemed to overcompensate for their small jurisdictions by acting fairly gruff or bossy. This dude was different. His soft-spoken approach was a real departure. But I told myself to be careful. For all I knew, his easy style was simply a way to lower someone’s guard.
    “I’m on my fifth cup of coffee, so I’m awake enough,” I said. “Before we start, it’s only fair for me to point out that I’m a journalist. I cover celebrity crime for Buzz magazine—and this will definitely be something I’m expected to report on. But I haven’t done anything yet. I want to first help in the investigation.”
    Collinson eyed me silently for a moment. Ray blinked and squeezed his eyes shut for a beat or two. It was a weird little tic he had.
    “Thank you for your candor,” Collinson said finally. “Now why don’t you take us through what happened again, but this time step by step.”
    I did as he said, leaving nothing out—except of course Scott’s request to take Jessie and me to pleasure heaven at the same time. Just in case Laura hadn’t been a hundred percent forthcoming, I mentioned the time gap in Laura’s response to the phone call from Devon as well as the mystery call—though from Collinson’s blank expression, I had no way of telling whether this was new info or not. I also recounted my brief conversation at the edge of the woods with Devon Saturday morning. This, of course, was new, and he sat up