Roose positioned himself directly across the table from me, and pulled in close. I could smell his cheap Old Spice.
“You said you haven’t seen Mary in 16 days?”
“Yes, that’s right,”
“She’s been in your Deep Freezer for at least that long. How do you explain that,”
“I don’t go in there much!” I said.
“What happened on that day, 16 days ago?” Roose drove.
“Wait a minute,” i put my hands up. I was shaking, “You guys don’t think that I …” I was stunned, “You can’t possibly,” my words failed me, “That I would kill her?”
“Look,” Conklin leaned forward, his bulbous gut protruding out, “We don’t know what to think, Jack, Ok? We’re just asking questions that need to be answered. Maybe you’ll remember something that can put us on the right track,”
What was I doing 16 days ago? It was all such a blur.
Mary was dead. Another wave of grief spilled over me. A sweaty film coated my face and forehead.
“Is it just me, or is it too hot in here?” I said, wiping my brow.
“I can have someone bring water,” Roose said.
I nodded.