The boy named David, the Australian, was missing. When his family had reported his empty bed, a sweep of the resort was ordered. His bathing suit and shoes were discovered by the side of the water. It was a tragedy, the other guests whispered, as they watched the flashing lights of police cars.
Whitney agreed that it was. It was a tragedy.
Jules packed their car swiftly. The Brownsons were gone before a resort employee found David’s naked body in the lake.
-8-
Annette
THE DETECTIVE WAS KIND.He informed Annette that Bobcat’s DNA had matched the semen found in the victim. Detective Revello told Annette he could quietly exit with Robert and not cause a scene. “But you need to bring me to your son. Now,” he said.
“I’ll find him,” said Whitney. Liza looked like a deer caught in headlights, stunned. Her best friends’ obvious relief that it wasn’ttheirsons being arrested filled Annette with fury.
“No,” she said. “Please. Go get Louis. Tell him to get rid of everyone.”
“Whatever you need,” said Whitney. Liza nodded.
Annette led Revello to Robert’s bedroom. Robert had told his mother earlier that he and his friends had stayed up late and that he wasn’t in a party mood. She’d said he should feel free to shut his door and relax. Louis wanted his son to be social, as he was, but Annette understood how exhausting talking to others could be.
She opened Robert’s door without knocking and saw thathis friends were gone and he was asleep. “Please wait here,” she said.
Revello looked reluctant, but nodded.
Annette went to sit on the side of Robert’s bed, cradling his face. His beautiful lips, his eyelashes. She wanted her son to be innocent, to be good. But she supposed almost every man behind bars had a mother who wished for the same.
Robert opened his eyes. The room smelled of Axe body spray and socks. Annette stared at him.
“Roberto, mi pequeño…” said Annette, calling her son what Maya still called her.
“What is it?” said Robert.
Annette exhaled. She whispered in Spanish, asking Robert to tell her the truth, to tell her everything.
Annette watched his eyes narrow, calculating, but then his face went slack. He was out of ideas. He was out of bravado. He was scared.
“Speak to me,” said Annette.
“She was my girlfriend,” said Robert, so quietly Annette could scarcely hear. “At least I wanted her to be.” He looked straight at her, imploring. “Mom,” said Robert. “What am I going to do, Mom?”
“Robert,” said Annette, “did you hurt her?”
“No, Mom,” said Robert. “I promise, Mom! I wouldn’t ever hurt her!” He closed his eyes and curled into a ball, turning away. He began to sob, his shoulders shaking. He said something that sounded like “I can’t go to Midland.”
“What happened?” said Annette.
Robert didn’t answer.
Annette lay next to him and held him, remembering the evening his flag football team lost the championship in a brutal game. “I worked so hard,” he’d said then, curled away from her in this very same bed. “I worked so hard and we lostanyway.” Annette couldn’t read his emotions, couldn’t tell if he was grieving or guilty. What was wrong with her that she didn’t understand her son?
“It’s time, Mrs. Fontenot,” said Revello.
Louis, ashen faced, joined the detective at the doorway to Robert’s room. “Toby will meet us at the station,” he said.
Detective Revello read Robert his rights. Annette watched as her son was handcuffed and led to the staircase.
“Let me go with him!” she cried, but Louis held her back.
-9-
