Grey Expectations Read Online Free Page A

charge me, but was clear they thought I had done something. One of the cops was asking about the Rattigan, about my research habits.’ She took a swallow of her own tea, oblivious to the heat. ‘He even asked about Jerry and our plans. Like, were we hurting for money.’
    â€˜That’s crazy. Everyone we know is broke.’ It struck her that Tris still hadn’t answered her question. ‘But, Tris, do they even know—’ Dulcie was suddenly at a loss for words. ‘I mean, did they find a body or something?’
    Another shake of the head. ‘I don’t know, Dulcie. I don’t know anything . All I know is the way they referred to him – to Roland – and then the way they questioned me. And they told me not to leave town.’
    Dulcie was about to dismiss that as so much dramatic nonsense, when it hit her. Trista had to leave town – leave the state, actually. She was scheduled to give a lecture at Brown University in Providence in a few days. While Tris was hoping for the Rattigan, she couldn’t count on it, and such guest appearances were the academic equivalent of Broadway auditions. If nothing was certain, if Trista wasn’t being charged with anything, surely, the police would make an exception for that.
    â€˜The Kiplinger Lecture?’ She didn’t have to say more.
    Trista only shrugged. ‘I didn’t dare ask. I mean, it’s just a job. It’s not worth getting arrested over. Is it?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’ Dulcie tried her tea again. This was getting serious. ‘Have you talked to anyone at the legal clinic? Do you want me to call Suze?’ Dulcie’s former room-mate would be graduating from the law school in a few weeks, but Dulcie knew she’d make time to help a friend.
    If the friend wanted help. Trista only shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I really don’t, Dulce. I mean, what can they do?’
    Dulcie opened her mouth – and then shut it. Trista was upset enough. ‘Why don’t we start at the beginning?’ she asked instead. ‘Tell me exactly what happened when the police came. Tell me what they said.’
    Still sniffling, Trista ran through it all again. From the first knock on her door by the plain-clothes detectives to her panicked call. An ordinary Tuesday evening had been utterly destroyed. The whole visit – Dulcie did some quick calculating – had probably only taken about twenty minutes.
    â€˜So, they didn’t advise you to seek counsel?’ Years of living with Suze had taught Dulcie a few things.
    â€˜I don’t think so.’ The normally sharp Trista was sounding a little unsure. ‘Just, you know, that I shouldn’t leave town.’
    â€˜And tell me again – what exactly did they say about Roland?’ Something was bothering Dulcie. Something she couldn’t quite identify.
    â€˜Just that one phrase – calling him “the late”. I don’t think the cop was supposed to tell me that; the other guy – shorter guy – gave him a look that shut him up. But it was the way they talked about him, you know? Like they were trying hard not to use the past tense.’ She paused. To English majors, this was important. Still, Dulcie wanted to know more.
    â€˜And then?’ she prompted her friend.
    Another shake of her blonde hair. ‘They wanted to know when I’d last seen him. What my “relationship” with him was.’ Trista used her fingers to make air quotes around the word.
    â€˜Relationship?’ Dulcie looked at her friend, trying to see beyond her stoic front. Although Trista and Jerry had been living together for months now, they’d gone through a rough patch, and Dulcie knew her friend had gone out with other guys in the interim. ‘Tris, were you and Roland  . . .?’
    â€˜Roland? He’s – no.’ Trista reached for another tissue, and for a moment Dulcie