Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [66]
I always offer. u never let me pay.
of course u don’t pay. only when ur bad.
u know me, gabe, I can b very bad.
Ugh!!! u wreck me.
think of me tonite when ur alone.
I always think of u especially when I’m alone.
my mom is calling me 2 help w/dinner. gotta go. kisses.
kisses, Gabe texted back, then disconnected the line. His stomach growled. He realized he hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
It seemed indeed that music was the stuff of life.
Play on, Gabriel, play on.
Wendy Hesse had dropped some pounds in a month, but the weight had come off too quickly and the excess skin on her face sagged like deflated jowls. Her blue eyes were clear instead of red, and her hair had grown out and was styled, her white roots no longer showing. It was a good sign that she took enough pride in her appearance. She wore a red sweater like the first time she had come into the station house and black pants. Marge had seated her in an interview room, offering her a chair and a cup of coffee. Oliver joined them a minute later.
Wendy looked uncomfortable in her surroundings. “Isn’t this where you interrogate the criminals?”
Marge said, “We use the rooms for all kinds of interviews.”
“Most of us just have cubicles,” Oliver explained. “This is a little more private.”
“If you would prefer it, we can go outside and talk in the open.”
“Oh good God, no. We need privacy.” She regarded Marge’s questioning eyes. “I know that you’ve called me several times and I haven’t called back.”
“You’ve had a lot on your mind.”
“All of it bad.” She reached in her purse and pulled out several photographs, but didn’t reveal them, keeping them close to her breast. “Right after it happened, I was going through Gregory’s drawers, hoping to find some answers.”
She put them on the table and looked away. Marge kept a blank face as she picked up the graphic snapshots. The girl’s features were obscured by long hair and a close-up of an erect penis halfway into her mouth. A few of that pose and a couple more of a tongue licking testicles. She passed the photos to Oliver.
Wendy said, “Obviously, there was a lot about my son that I didn’t know about.”
“Any idea who the girl is?” Marge asked.
“I didn’t even know that Gregory had a girlfriend.”
Oliver scanned them several times. “I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but are you sure that’s even Gregory? There’s no face.”
Wendy turned to him, dumbfounded. “You know, I’m not sure at all. I just . . . assumed.” She exhaled forcibly. “Maybe it’s one of his friends. It certainly doesn’t look like professional smut.”
“No, it’s amateur stuff,” Oliver said.
Wendy bit a thumbnail. It had been painted red and some of the polish was chipping off. “I guess I was in the dark about my son. I feel stupid.”
Oliver said, “I don’t want to sound cavalier, Mrs. Hesse, but things like this . . . it’s sort of normal for a teenage boy.”
Marge said, “And please don’t feel stupid. Most fifteen-year-old boys don’t confide in their mothers.”
“It’s just shocking when you think you know someone and then . . .” She threw up her hands.
“Tell us about the photographs on the computer,” Oliver said.
“After I found these, I became curious about what was on Gregory’s computer. I hired someone to hack into it because I thought I knew his password, but he changed it. I felt a bit sheepish breaking into his privacy even though he’s . . . gone. But I wanted to know more about my son, get a clue as to why he did this. Most of the pictures were just him and his friends.” Her eyes got wet. “But then I saw other pictures like the ones I brought to you. I can’t imagine Snapfish printing them.”
“No, these were probably done with a photo printer hooked up to a home computer,” Oliver told her. “Does your son have a photo printer?”
“I didn’t see one. Even though he’s gone, it really upsets me that he would take such indecent pictures of himself. And what girl in her right mind would let herself be photographed doing something so obscene?”
“It’s not all that uncommon—kids being kids,” Marge said. “If you can, talk to me about the photos