Rating: ★★★★☆ Tags: Mystery Detective, General, Fiction

sweetgirlsweetgirlsweetgirl
and my dad
sobbing so loudly he almost chokes.
There is more whisking away of me, as if I haven’t been
whisked away quite enough already. I am deposited in a
closet of a room with comfortable but cheap office chairs,
the kind that always seem to have bits of old food woven
into the fabric. A camera blinking up in the corner and no
windows. It is not what I pictured. It is not designed to make
me feel safe.
I am surrounded by Boney, her partner, Gilpin, and two
FBI agents up from St. Louis who remain nearly silent. They
give me water, and then Boney starts.

---

B: Okay, Amy, first we have to thank you sincerely for
talking with us after what you’ve been through. In a case
like this, it’s very important to get everything down while
the memory is fresh. You can’t imagine how important
that is. So it’s good to talk now. If we can get all these
details down, we can close the case, and you and Nick
can go back to your lives.
A: I’d definitely like that.
B: You deserve that. So if you’re ready to begin, can we
start with the time line: What time did Desi arrive at
your door? Do you remember?
A: About ten a.m. A little after, because I remember hearing
the Teverers talking as they walked to their car for
church.
B: What happened when you opened the door?
A: Something felt wrong immediately. First of all, Desi has
written me letters all my life. But his obsession seemed
to have become less intense over the years. He
seemed to think of himself as just an old friend, and
since the police couldn’t do anything about it, I made
my peace with that. I never felt like he meant me active
harm, although I really didn’t like being this close to
him. Geographically. I think that’s what put him over the
edge. Knowing I was so close. He walked into my
house with … He was sweaty and sort of nervous but
also determined-looking. I’d been upstairs, I’d been
about to iron my dress when I noticed the big wooden

---

handle of the Judy puppet on the floor – I guess it had
fallen off. Bummer because I’d already hidden the
puppets in the woodshed. So I grabbed the handle,
and I had that in my hand when I opened the door.
B: Very good memory.
A: Thank you.
B: What happened next?
A: Desi barged in, and he was pacing around the living
room, all flustered and kind of frantic, and he said,
What are you doing for your anniversary?
It frightened
me, that he knew today was our anniversary, and he
seemed angry about it, and then his arm flashed out
and he had me by the wrist and was twisting it behind
my back, and we struggled. I put up a real fight.
B: What next?
A: I kicked him and got away for a second and ran to the
kitchen, and we struggled more and he clubbed me
once with the big wooden Judy handle, and I went flying
and then he hit me two or three more times. I
remember not being able to see for a second, just
dizzy, my head was throbbing and I tried to grab for the
handle and he stabbed my arm with this pocketknife he
was carrying. I still have the scar. See?
B: Yes, that was noted in your medical examination. You
were lucky it was only a flesh wound.

---

A: It doesn’t feel like a flesh wound, believe me.
B: So he stabbed you? The angle is—
A: I’m not sure if he did it on purpose, or if I thrust myself
onto the blade accidentally – I was so off balance. I
remember the club falling to the floor, though, and I
looked down and saw my blood from the stab wound
pooling over the club. I think I passed out then.
B: Where were you when you woke up?
A: I woke up hog-tied in my living room.
B: Did you scream, try to get the neighbors’ attention?
A: Of course I screamed. I mean, did you hear me? I was
beaten, stabbed, and hog-tied by a man who had been
obsessed with me for decades, who once tried to kill
himself in my dorm bedroom.
B: Okay, okay, Amy, I’m sorry, that question was not
intended in the least to sound like we are blaming you,
we just need to get a full picture here so we can close
the investigation and you can get on with your life. Do
you want another water, or coffee or something?
A: Something warm would be nice. I’m so cold.
B: No problem. Can you get her a coffee? So what
happened then?

---

A: I think his original plan was to subdue me and kidnap me
and let it look like a runaway-wife thing, because when I
wake up, he’s just finished mopping the blood in the
kitchen, and he’s straightened the table of little antique
ornaments that fell over when I ran to the kitchen. He’s
gotten rid of the club. But he’s running out of time, and I
think what must have happened is: He sees this
disheveled living room – and so he thinks,