-3-
Whitney
JULES WAS FURIOUS AGAIN.He drove with a cool precision, switching lanes soundlessly, too fast. “Please slow down,” said Whitney.
“I’m in a bit of a hurry to get to our lawyer’s office so he can handle thisdisaster,” said Jules.
“It’s not a disaster!” cried Xavier from the backseat of the Mercedes. He was still in his running clothes; his father had told him to get the hell in the car and had then screamed for Whitney to join them. They’d left Roma asleep in her room.
“Calm down,” said Whitney. “What happened?”
“I’m having a coffee, scanning the security system,” started Jules, his voice growing louder and louder, “and there’s my own son talking to apolice officerin front of the main gate!”
“Honey,” said Whitney, turning around to face Xavier, “why did you talk to the policeman?”
“I was finishing my run,” said Xavier. “And he was parked in front of the house. I didn’t know he was a policeman! I thought maybe he was lost or something. I just…I didn’tdoanything. Why are you acting like I’m guilty? Do you think I killed her? Dad? Mom? Do you think that about me?”
“Of course we don’t!” said Whitney.
“We’re just trying to keep you safe,” said Jules. “And they don’t make you give aDNA sampleif you’re not a suspect.”
“Honey,” said Whitney, trying to placate her husband. “Xavier didn’t do anything and he wanted to tell the detective exactly that. We don’t need to make this a bigger deal than it is. He hasn’t been accused of anything and he hasn’t been arrested.”
“Do you understand the optics here?” said Jules, his tone black.
“Oh my God,” said Whitney. “Theoptics. Can you hear yourself?”
“I hate you sometimes, Whitney,” he said.
“Dad!” said Xavier, from the backseat.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I’m under a lot of pressure. What I don’t need is mysonbeing led off inhandcuffs.”
“I wasn’t in handcuffs, Dad!” said Xavier. “Why doesn’t anyone ask me what happened?”
Whitney turned around to face him. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “What happened?”
“OK,” said Xavier, his voice becoming grave. He took a breath. “So we were going to jump the Cliffs—”
“You didn’t even know her,” interrupted Jules.
“Of course he didn’t,” agreed Whitney.
“It’s like I’m not even here!” said Xavier. “I’m trying to tell you—”
“Youdidn’t have any idea who she was,” said Jules, cutting him off. “We talked about this, Xavier.”
“Fine,” said Xavier. His voice was low, ice-cold. “Fine,” he repeated. Whitney was silent, watching her son dim. He couldturn himself off, turn inward. Whitney wanted to tell him the truth and explain that it would all be over soon.
But if she spoke, Jules would stop it.
Jules thought he was the absolute authority, which Whitney had once found comforting. But once you stopped believing your partner knew what he was doing, life was scary indeed.
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Annette
TOBY TOLD ANNETTE TOgo ahead and take her citizenship test, attend her naturalization ceremony, pose in the outfit her Neiman Marcus shopper had bought her: a blue-and-white, long-sleeved—but very short—Valentino dress with six-inch, fire-engine-red, tasseled Louboutin heels. No news from the Austin Police Department was good news, said Toby. DNA analysis took awhile, and besides, Robert was innocent. Toby would be in his suite at the Driskill keeping an eye on the situation.
