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arrival. Surely that would be a typical parent’s response.
I met them on the front porch. Flip smiled and shook my
hand. “Laurel, this is Sergeant Wood,” he said.
“Ma’am.” Sergeant Wood nodded to me but didn’t offer his
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hand. He was prematurely gray with bright blue eyes, and he
would have been handsome if he’d allowed anything approach
ing a smile to cross his lips. I didn’t like picturing Andy being
questioned by him.
Flip handed me a clipboard and pen. “Here’s the consent-
to-search form,” he said.
I looked at the form as if I were actually reading it, but the
words ran together in front of my eyes.“You just need to look
at Andy’s room, right?” I asked as I signed. “You don’t need to
see the whole house?”
“Correct,” Flip answered. I thought I saw an apology in his
eyes.
“It’s no problem.” I led them inside. “I know you have to
follow up every lead and I want Andy’s name to be cleared.”
They followed me upstairs to Andy’s room. The sergeant
carried a large canvas bag and I wondered if he planned to take
items away with him. How would I explain that to Andy?
In the doorway to the bedroom, both men stopped and put
on latex gloves.
“Can I stay while you look?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” Flip said, as if forgetting how long we’d
known each other.
I took a seat on the very corner of Andy’s bed, folding my
damp hands in my lap, trying to stay out of the way as they
started opening drawers and reading the cards on the cork
board wall.“When you spoke to Andy today, Sergeant Wood,
did he say anything that made you want to search his room?”
I asked.
“No, ma’am,” Flip answered for the sergeant.“We’d already
planned to ask your consent.”
before the storm
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“What did you talk to him about?”
“You keep parental monitoring software on this computer,
ma’am?” Sergeant Wood asked as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Yes, I do. He’s not much of an Internet surfer. He likes
games, mostly.”
Sergeant Wood sat down in Andy’s desk chair and popped
a CD into the writable drive. I thought of the nasty IM from
MuzicRuuls and wondered what other hurtful messages he
would come across.
While Sergeant Wood clicked mouse buttons and studied
the computer screen, Flip started pulling out desk drawers. I
knew what he was seeing in them and relaxed a bit. He asked
me to stand up, then ran his arm beneath the mattress and box
spring and peered under the bed.
“What exactly are you looking for?” I asked as I sat down
again.
“We’re particularly looking for lighter fluid. Matches.
Arson instructions he might have looked up on the Internet.
That sort of thing,” Flip said. “I know this must be hard to
watch.”
“Well, Andy’s not the kind of person who could or would
set a fire, so I’m not concerned,” I said. “You know that, too,
Flip,” I added, trying to remind him of our friendship.
He was into the messy drawer now, his back to me. I knew
when he found the condom, because he asked me if Andy was
sexually active.
“Not hardly,” I said with a laugh.
I heard the front door slam shut.
“Mom?” Maggie called, and I suddenly remembered today
was a half day for the seniors.
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“I’m up here,” I said.
“Why’s a police car here?” she called from the stairs. She
nearly flew into the room. “What’s going on?”
“Hi, Maggie,” Flip said.
“Are you—” she looked from me to Flip to the sergeant
“—are you searching Andy’s room?”
“Yes, they are,” I answered.
“Why?” Maggie looked at me. “Shouldn’t you…can they
just do this?”
I nodded. “It’s only Andy’s room,” I reassured her in case she
was afraid of her own privacy being invaded. “Not the whole
house.”
“But it’s ridiculous!” she said.
“I know, sweetie.” I patted the bed next to me. “Sit down.”
“Is this because of what Keith said?” She directed the
question to me and I shrugged.
“Probably.”
Sergeant Wood stood up from the computer, popped out
the disk and dropped it in a small plastic bag he took from the
canvas carryall. Then he pulled out a stack of paper bags.
“We’d like to take the clothes Andy had on the night of the
fire,” he said.
“Sure, but I’ve washed them.” I stood up, pulling open the
louvered closet doors. “A couple of times, actually, to get rid
of the smoke smell.”
“We’d still like to have them,” the sergeant said.
I reached into the closet for the green-striped shirt, but my
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