Her fingers trembled as she reached for the cigarette he was offering. He handed her a lighter, but her hands wouldn’t cooperate. She flicked at the small metal wheel three or four times before he took it from her and lit the cigarette himself. She took a drag, inhaling the poisonous smoke deep into her lungs. She knew this stuff would kill her one day. She smiled bitterly at the thought.

“You know, you aren’t allowed to smoke in here,” he said, tapping another smoke from the pack and putting it between his lips.

She flinched as he lit it, the small flick of the lighter being enough to startle her. She watched as the tip flared to life. It reminded her that she was supposed to be smoking. She brought the butt to her lips and took another hit.

He blew a trail of smoke in her direction. “So, do you want to tell me what happened?”

She stared at his fingers. They were rough and calloused even though she knew he probably didn’t do much hard labor. His nails were torn, but clean. No, they weren’t jagged enough to be torn. Maybe they were bitten. She smiled. It seemed silly that a man in one of society’s most masculine professions would have such a nervous habit.

The light reflected off the band on his finger as he tapped his cigarette against the ashtray. At least she knew the cop was married.

“Something funny?”

She looked up as the smile faded from her lips. Her pale face was blank again, her eyes staring vacantly at the window behind him. She knew there were people behind there watching her. It made her want to press her hand against the glass as if she could push through to the other side. She wanted to be there with them. She wanted to see what they saw. She wanted to remove herself from the situation and slip into another world entirely. Just like Alice.

“Mrs. Jameson?”

Her eyes blazed with anger. “That’s not my name.”

He flipped through his stack of papers. They’d been carelessly assembled, some of them dog-eared, their edges stained with coffee. She felt sorry for the paper. It looked as sad as she felt.

“Ms. Mason, then.”

She dropped her gaze. “You can call me Annie.”

He picked up his coffee and brought it to his lips without looking up. “Ms. Mason, do you know why you’re here today?”

“Because you found my ex-husband dead in an alley up on Fourteenth Street.”

He looked up, surprised. “How did you know the location of the body?”

“Where else would you find a crack addict? He still had his stash on him, didn’t he?”

He shook his head. “He was clean. It looks like a bad deal.”

She crammed what was left of her cigarette into the ashtray with a little more force than was necessary. Dragging her slender fingers across her face, she rubbed her eyes. Her hands smelled like tar and nicotine. She took a deep breath.

“Ms. Mason?”

“If it appears to be a simple drug deal gone wrong, why am I here, Officer Delgado?” She didn’t open her eyes.

“You were the last person he called before his body was discovered.”

She let out a long, bitter laugh. “Well, that’s not very surprising. He calls me twenty or thirty times a day.”

He pulled out a well-worn file and flipped it open. “You divorced him for reported abuse six months ago, moved, and changed your phone number twice. We have records that indicate you’ve blocked his number repeatedly and attempted to file charges for violation of the restraining order against him.”

“Funny how just following someone around isn’t considered harassment. They have to actually attack you for it to be worthy of police intervention.”

The sarcasm was not lost on him. “Ms. Mason, where were you were last night between the hours of 2100 and 2300?”

“I was at home.”

He scribbled something on a piece of paper. “Can anyone confirm that?”

“Not unless you know someone who can talk to animals.”

He glanced up. She noticed for the first time that his eyes were hazel, not brown. Why hadn’t she noticed before?

“Your cooperation would be appreciated.”

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her long arms over her chest. “I married an abusive crack addict that no one seemed to believe was an abusive crack addict. I was hospitalized repeatedly for being “clumsy”. No one offered to help. No one asked any questions. He was a fine upstanding citizen. He couldn’t possibly be considered dangerous.

“When I finally filed for divorce people looked at me like I was crazy, people like you, Officer Delgado. The courts ordered a psych evaluation. I was passed from shrink to shrink. They all told me the same thing. He was such a model citizen. Finally someone believed me, but the word was already out that I was crazy. People don’t look at me the same anymore, Officer. I divorced the demon that ruined my life and he’s been haunting me ever since.”

“Ms. Mason, if you could please just tell me-”

“I didn’t kill my husband, Officer Delgado,” she said, her blue eyes as cold as ice, “but you can’t honestly expect me to tell you I’m sorry he’s dead.”

“We’re just trying to establish your whereabouts yesterday evening.”

“So, because I’m not crying the tears of a grieving widow I’m automatically a suspect?”

“You were closest to him. You were the last person he tried to contact before he died. We’re just following protocol.”

“If I’m not mistaken, you and I are the only ones in this room, Officer.”

He eyed her over the rim of his coffee cup, but said nothing.

She tucked a strand of dirty blonde hair behind her ear. “You still don’t believe that he’s a drug addict, do you?”

“We’ll know more when the tox report comes back.”

“What else would he be doing alone in an alley in the middle of the night?”

“I really wouldn’t know, Ms. Mason. People do some strange things.”

She shifted in her chair and sighed. “Are you planning on charging me with something or are you just chasing shadows?”

“I’m just trying to gather the facts, Ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t ‘ma’am’ me, Felix. I’ve known you since you were a rookie. You know as well as I do what happened here. You’d have to be blind not to notice he was an asshole. And I don’t think I’d be out of line saying that he got what was coming to him. How’d you get stuck with this case anyway?”

He looked down at his hands. “I volunteered.”

“Why in God’s name would you want to put yourself through that?”

He looked up at her and she was suddenly staring back at the gangly twenty-something kid her husband Rick had brought home for dinner, eager as hell to get it all right. He was just starting out back then, back when everything seemed clear cut, black and white, right and wrong, good and bad. Back when cops were the protectors and abusers were the criminals. Back when she wanted to believe that things could really be that simple, when everything in her life still made sense.

She could almost see that willingness bubbling just below the surface, but the innocence was gone. Years on the force had taken that from him, beaten that eager kid into a man. His eyes wanted to believe that the line between good and bad still existed as clearly as it did in a childhood game of cops and robbers, but the lines in his face knew better.

She had to look away.

He leaned across the table and reached out to take her hand. She watched as his rough fingers held her own, their calluses rubbing against her soft palms.

“Annie.”

There was something pleading in his voice that made her look up. His expression was pained. There were people watching them, so she knew this wouldn’t last long. She didn’t need this right now. She couldn’t handle any tender moments. After months of being shunned by the very people who claimed to be her dearest friends, the nightmare might finally be over. She just wanted to get out of this room and forget. She wanted to crawl through the Looking Glass now more than ever.

He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry about all this, Annie, but Rick was my partner. I know you two had your differences, but I need to know what really happened last night. He trained me, for God’s sake. I know he could be an ass, but that doesn’t mean he deserved to die. He was a great guy.”

She looked at him like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. For a moment there she really believed that he was on her side. For a moment it looked like someone in this town wasn’t calling her crazy. She thought maybe he really believed her. But he didn’t. Rick had ruined her in life and he was determined to continue to do so in death.

She pulled her hand away. “Yeah,” she said around the lump in her throat, “a real great guy.”