Red Rain

50

Mark gripped Autumn around the waist of her white tennis shorts. He intended to lift her off his lap. But she took one of his hands and slid it between her legs. Then she lowered her face to his and began to kiss his neck. Slowly, she moved her lips to his cheek, then his mouth.

“No. Autumn.”

She giggled and nibbled his ear.

“Lea is right upstairs. She could come down-”

“But she won’t,” Autumn whispered. “She never stops working up there.”

She sat up straight, her white-blond hair falling over her eyes, holding his hand against the front of her shorts. “What is she writing?”

Mark glanced nervously to the office door. He could feel his erection pushing against his jeans. “I’m not even sure. A long piece. Something about death rituals. She used to share her work with me.”

“And now?” Brushing her hair against his cheek.

“She stays up there day and night. I’m really worried about her. I can’t even drag her away for meals. She’s. . not right.”

“That’s why I’m here for you, Mark.” Whispered against his ear so that the skin tingled all down his body.

“No. Autumn-please.” He worked his hand free and gripped her waist again. “Get up. Come on. Really. I’m serious.”

She made a pouty face, her round blue eyes wide, mouth all satirical. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

“We can’t do this.” Another glance to the door. Did he hear footsteps or just the house creaking? “Roz is home, too. And the boys are out back.”

She nuzzled his neck. Her lips were hot and dry. “Doesn’t that make it more exciting for you?”

“No. It just makes it more wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her smile faded. “You don’t really think it’s wrong, do you?”

Is she delusional?

“Yes. Wrong. I mean, look. I have too much to deal with now. I’m so worried about Lea and stressed about the kids and. . We can’t do this. We-”

The front doorbell chimed.

Autumn scrambled to her feet. She frowned at him as she smoothed her short hair with both hands. Then she tugged down the legs of her shorts. “Wrong?”

“Of course it’s wrong.”

What’s that song? “How Can It Be Wrong If It Feels So Right?”

“Mark. It’s those two policemen again.” Roz’s shout from the front entryway. “Shall I send them back to your office?”

Mark stood up and straightened his blue polo shirt over his jeans. He squinted at Autumn. “What the fuck?”

She began straightening the stack of files on the desk. “Guess I’ll go home. Say you’ll miss me.”

Mark didn’t answer. He was trying to figure out why the police had returned. He heard their clomping footsteps, heard their voices as they made small talk with Roz.

Autumn slid out with her pouty face on. She glanced back as the two cops entered, then vanished down the hall.

Mark had a sudden fright. Do I have lipstick on my face?

Then he remembered Autumn wore only a clear lip gloss.

The two officers entered and apologized for disturbing him. They sat down in their usual places on the couch. The one named Pavano looked tired, weary, as if he hadn’t been getting much sleep. His partner didn’t waste time getting to the point.

“Mr. Sutter, I’m sure you’re aware that one of the students in your sons’ class was murdered last Wednesday.”

Mark nodded. “Yes. It’s so horrible. So shocking. I spoke with our three boys-Ira and the twins-and tried to see if they needed counseling.”

“Well, Officer Pavano and I think-”

“My wife and I-we know the Saltzmans. I mean, we knew them before the divorce. My wife was in a reading group with Elaine Saltzman. She. . she must be beyond devastated.”

The two cops nodded. Pavano tapped something into his phone.

“My son Ira wasn’t friends with Derek. But they knew each other since fourth grade, I think. Ira is very sensitive. I think he had a nightmare last night. You know. About Derek.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Pavano said, glancing up from his phone. “They brought in grief counselors to the school.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s smart. I’m trying to work with Ira on my own.”

“We went to the school yesterday,” the big cop, Pinto, continued, keeping his small eyes steady on Mark, as if studying every reaction.

They couldn’t think I had anything to do with the kid’s murder. Why are they here?

“We spoke to Mrs. Maloney and to the teacher. What’s her name?”

“Montgomery,” his partner offered.

“You know. We’re trying to cover every angle. Grasping at straws, really.”

He and Mark stared at each other. Mark waited for him to continue. He could smell Autumn’s lemony perfume. Was it on his cheek?

“We asked the principal to go over everything that happened on Wednesday,” Pinto said. “We just asked if anything concerning the deceased stuck out in her mind that day. Anything at all.”

“What were you looking for exactly?” Mark asked. He leaned forward and crossed his arms over the desk.

“We didn’t know,” Pinto said. “Just trying to get an idea of the boy’s day.”

“I don’t understand,” Mark said. “You talked to the principal. So. . why did you come here?”

“Well. .” Pinto removed his cap and tossed it onto the arm of the couch. “The principal remembered that Derek Saltzman had a fight with your boys that morning.”

“Huh? A fight?”

“A spitting fight.”

Mark felt his cheeks grow hot. “I don’t think so. My son Ira would never spit on anyone.”

“Mrs. Maloney recalled that Derek Saltzman spit water on your son Ira and on your twin boys as well.”

Mark shook his head. “First I’ve heard of it. I do know that Derek has been in trouble before.”

“Well, we thought your boys might have some kind of information or recollection from that day,” Pavano chimed in. “Something that might give us a clue.”

“That’s pretty fucking desperate,” Mark said, tapping the desktop with both hands.

“We agree,” Pinto said quickly. “But there’s one more detail.” He turned to Pavano, as if asking for permission to continue.

Pavano gave an almost invisible shrug.

“This isn’t being given out to anyone,” Pinto said, playing with his cap, twirling it on one hand. “If you could keep it confidential. I mean, not spread it around to people in the community.”

“Yes. Of course,” Mark said.

“Well, you see,” Pinto continued in a voice just above a whisper, “the boy’s murder is very similar to the murder that occurred in your driveway.”

Mark couldn’t hide his surprise. “How do you mean?”

“The victim was burned,” Pinto said. “Like with a blowtorch. Very similar. Only in the boy’s case, his head was burned completely off. We found his skull-no skin on it or anything. We found his skull all scorched. . under his bed.”

Mark stood up. He took a deep breath and held it, fighting down his nausea.

“Horrible,” he muttered. “Like a fucking horror movie.”

The two cops nodded. Pinto spoke first. “So, since the murders were similar, and since your sons had the spitting fight with the victim on the morning of his death, we just thought it wouldn’t hurt to talk to them for a few minutes. With your permission, of course.”

“But tell me again. You certainly don’t suspect-” Mark started.

Pinto waved a hand. “Of course not. No kid could do what we’ve seen in these murders. Pavano and I, we’re just trying everything.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about the murder in my driveway,” Mark said, sitting up straight, leaning his head against the back of the desk chair. “I mean, it’s hard to stop thinking about it.”

“That’s for sure,” Pinto replied.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys leave and I just turn it off. I think about it day and night.”

“And?” Pinto said, showing a little impatience.

“Well, I just think you’re looking in all the wrong places. I mean, coming here? That’s a waste of your time. These murders. . They’re so violent. And nothing like this has happened in Sag Harbor before, right? So you need to check out new arrivals. Find someone who’s moved here very recently, someone with a violent past. The summer people haven’t arrived yet. That should make your job easier. I’m not a cop, but I’d be checking mental hospitals and-”

“Thanks for your advice. But you have to understand you’re our number one suspect,” Pavano blurted out.

Mark felt his face grow hot. He saw Pinto flash an annoyed scowl at his partner.

“A guy comes to your house with bad news,” Pavano said, ignoring Pinto’s displeasure, “he ends up dead in your driveway. A kid gets into a fight with your boys. The kid ends up dead in his room.”

Mark wished they wouldn’t concentrate their stares on him like that. Yes, he could feel he was blushing. But blushing could mean all kinds of things. He’d written a paper on it. Why was he thinking about that paper now?

“I can testify that Mark isn’t a murderer.”

The voice made Mark jump. Lea came floating barefoot into the office, in a sleeveless blue top and blue short shorts. Her hair fell loosely around her face.

Mark thought she looked beautiful, except for her eyes, which were red and tired from staring into the laptop screen all day.

The two officers climbed slowly to their feet. They all nodded at each other solemnly.

“Mark can’t even kill a lobster,” Lea said. “He’s so squeamish, I have to drop them in the pot. He looks the other way. Really.”

Pinto studied Mark. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” he said.

“Too bad,” Lea offered.

“Mrs. Sutton, you were away when the murder occurred in your driveway,” Pavano said.

“I was in the city. I had some meetings. But I hurried home. I knew the kids would be upset.”

“They’ve been very edgy and out of sorts,” Mark added. “I’ve tried to get them to talk about it, but. .”

Pinto turned back to Lea. “The twin boys were out in the front yard when the victim was murdered. Have they said anything to indicate-”

“That they saw anything?” Lea interrupted. “No. Not a word. Mark asked them directly more than once. They say they were in back. In the guesthouse, in their room. They didn’t see a thing. And I believe them.”

“The twins have had their lives turned upside-down,” Mark said. “Losing their parents and their home on the island, moving to a very different place. I’ve been watching them very closely. I think I’d know if they were keeping something from me.”

“Well, we appreciate all your help,” Pavano said.

“We came to ask the three boys just a few questions. Do you think that would be okay now?”

Mark turned to Lea. “Roz was going to take them into town to buy dinner,” Lea said. “But go ahead.”

“I guess it would be okay,” Mark said. “But if the talk begins to upset them-”

“We’ll know when to stop,” Pinto said, glancing at his partner.

“I’m happy to cooperate, even if you think I’m your number one suspect. But as I said, this is pretty ridiculous, a total waste of time,” Mark muttered, walking to the office door.

“We have to do everything,” Pinto said. “This isn’t our usual kind of case.”

“I’ll go get the boys,” Lea said. She turned to Mark. “I’m going back to my work. Roz will take the boys and get dinner when they’re finished here.”

Mark turned to the cops. “The boys are out back. In the guesthouse. They’ve been hanging out there. All three of them. My son is shy and difficult. But I think he’s bonding with his new brothers.”

“Nice,” Pavano muttered.

Mark realized that was too much information.

I’m their top suspect. God. How stupid is that?

He heard the boys clomping down the hall.

I’ll cooperate the best I can. But of course my main goal has to be to protect my kids.