Past Tense Read Online Free PDF

several times.” I hesitated. “Don’t volunteer anything. Just answer their questions. You might want to have a lawyer with you.”
    She cocked her head and frowned at me. “Why would I want a lawyer?”

    I shrugged. “Their questioning might get pretty intense and confusing. A lawyer can help you through it.”
    â€œNo offense,” she said, “but I don’t need a damn lawyer.”
    â€œWell, you know you can change your mind at any time. All you have to do is ask for one, and they’ll have to stop questioning you.”
    â€œAre you reading me my rights?”
    I shook my head. “No, honey. Just trying to tell you what’ll probably happen.”
    Evie took a quick drag on her cigarette, threw it down onto the dirt road, and ground it out under her foot as if she were squashing a poisonous bug. Then she folded her arms across her chest, turned away, and gazed off into the woods.
    I touched her shoulder, and she flinched away from me.
    So we stood there beside Larry’s body, and after a minute, sirens howled in the distance, and then two police cruisers came barreling over the hilltop. Their sirens squawked as they skidded to a stop, and they left a billow of dust in their wake.
    Each cruiser held two police officers. Three of them got out, leaving the driver of the second cruiser behind the wheel to tend the radio.
    One cop went over and looked down at Larry Scott’s body. The other two approached Evie and me. One was a middle-aged guy with gray showing under his cap. The other was an olive-skinned young female officer who looked like she’d been cultivating the hard scowl on her face.
    The female spoke to Evie, then led her over to one of the cruisers. The gray-haired guy stood in front of me. “Sergeant Costello,” he said. “Brewster PD.”
    â€œBrady Coyne,” I said. “I’m a lawyer in Boston. We’re renting this cottage for the weekend.” I held out my hand.
    He didn’t seem to notice it. “I want you to come over and sit in the cruiser, sir. We’ve got to wait for the state police to get here.”

    â€œI know how it works,” I said.
    He nodded. “I’m sure you do, sir.”
    He led me to the second cruiser. Evie was sitting in the back seat of the first one. The doors were closed and the female officer was sitting in front. Evie was staring out the side window, and when I tried to catch her eye, she shifted her gaze to somewhere behind me.
    I climbed in the back. Costello put his hand on top of my head to steer me in, closed the door behind me, then got in front. He left his door open. A wire mesh separated us. He mumbled something that was not intended for my ears to the cop behind the wheel, who turned and grinned at him.
    After about five minutes I said, “Do you mind if I smoke?”
    â€œYes,” Costello said without turning around.
    A few minutes later two more cars rolled up behind us. They were both unmarked sedans, and they had not heralded their arrival with sirens. State cops in plain clothes.
    Costello got out and went over to talk to them.
    â€œNow what happens?” I said to the officer behind the wheel.
    He did not answer me.
    After a while Costello came back, slid into the front seat, slammed the door, and said, “Let’s go.”
    The driver managed to turn around on the narrow dirt road, and we headed into town. Costello spoke into the car radio. I couldn’t make out what he said.
    At the station Costello led me into a small room in the back. It had one square window high on the wall. It was covered with thick wire mesh. In the middle of the room stood a single rectangular steel table with six straight-backed wooden chairs around it. A big metal ashtray brimming with old cigarette butts sat on the table.
    â€œHave a seat, sir,” said Costello. “You can smoke in here if you want. Can I get you some coffee?”

    â€œSure,”