The officers share a look with each other when they realize the deceased were at our house before the crash. We’ve gone from random visitors to possible witnesses to their state of mind before the accident.
Mrs. Bernard leans forward just enough that Ryan can embrace her. Mr. Bernard swallows thickly as he reaches over to clutch his wife’s hand in support.
I shouldn’t have come. I should have let Ryan handle this alone. Assured him this was a private matter, not a place for a stranger like me, but I was so desperate for any shred of information about the woman that I ignored the risk of what I could face here.
Now I realize how big my mistake is. The officer who was sitting on the stool now has his sights set on us. And because it seems like the only thing stopping Mrs. Bernard from completely falling apart is Ryan’s arms around her, the officer approaches me first.
“Hello,” he says, as he turns the pages in his notebook. “I’m Deputy Bullock. I’m gathering as much information as I can. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”
I’m stuck. I can’t say I don’t know anything because obviously they were with us last night. And as much as I would like to answer those questions on my terms, now will have to do.
“Of course,” I say, then nod toward Ryan. “We rushed right over as soon as we heard what happened. James and Lucca were at our house last night.”
With his pen poised over the clean sheet of paper, he asks, “And your name is...?”
I hesitate only a second before I answer, “Evie Porter.” I’ve now officially lied to the police.
“Is Evie your full name or is it short for something else?”
“Evelyn.”
“Okay, Miss Porter, how did you know Mr. Bernard and Miss Marino?”
Ryan disengages himself from Mrs. Bernard, promising her he will return shortly, then comes to stand next to me. His right arm slips around my waist and I’m not sure if he’s trying to show a united front or if he needs any comfort I can give him.
“Hi, I’m Ryan Sumner. James was an old friend of mine. Evie and I had him and Lucca over for dinner last night.”
Deputy Bullock scribbles away and doesn’t look up when he asks the next question. “Was Miss Marino drinking last night?”
Ryan looks at me before answering, the pause causing the deputy’s pen to stop and his eyes to move from the notepad to us.
“She had one glass of wine when they first arrived around six and then one more glass with dinner. James had a considerable amount more to drink, which is why she was driving,” I answer.
Deputy Bullock waits a beat then goes back to his notes. “Would you say she seemed in control of her faculties when she left your home?”
“Yes,” Ryan answers.
“Is it possible she had more to drink than you witnessed? Maybe she snuck another glass or two that you weren’t aware of?”
“I guess it’s possible but I think that’s unlikely. She was around us the entire evening except for when she went to the bathroom.”
Drunk driving is the most obvious reason for an accident like this. The question of her alcohol consumption will eventually be answered when the autopsy comes back, but I know she couldn’t have had more than two glasses.
“Did Mr. Bernard put up a fight about not being able to drive home?” he asks.
Mrs. Bernard clutches her chest at his question. Ryan, realizing how upset she is, motions for us to move into the hallway.
“No. Not at all. He willingly and gladly got into the passenger seat,” Ryan finally says when we’ve cleared the room.
The deputy nods. He’s writing more than what we’re saying, but the way the pad is angled I can’t see his notes.
“How were things between Mr. Bernard and Miss Marino last night? Any arguing? Fighting?”
“No, not at all,” I answer.
“Anything happen that could have caused Miss Marino to be distracted? Upset?” The officer looks at Ryan, shrugging as he adds, “Any talk of old girlfriends? I know how reminiscing with old friends can be. Did she have to sit and listen to Mr. Bernard’s glory days and maybe didn’t like what she was hearing?”
“No, it wasn’t anything like that,” Ryan says, his words tinged with anger. “Neither of us would have wanted Lucca or Evie to be uncomfortable.”
