Chapter 10: The Stockpot

Chef's office is a closet with a desk, a safe and a window that doesn't open.

She called me in Thursday at four, and Delaney was already sitting in the second chair.

Her eyes were red.

She held a folded tissue in both hands.

"Sorrell, sit," Chef said.

I sat.

I put the diary on the desk, and Bridget's emergency room bill on top of it.

Next to those I laid Rafe's notebook with the five dates.

Chef looked at them without touching them.

"Delaney has given me a written statement," she said.

"She says the book was changed after Friday."

"She says the dates and the sign-in on the eleventh were altered, to make the votes look forged."

"By me," I said.

"By someone who had the book for a week."

"I had it for a week because you told me to bring it."

"I did."

Delaney leaned forward.

"Hattie, I don't want to accuse you," she said, and her voice cracked.

"I'm so scared. I've been up every night."

"I only wrote what I saw."

"What did you see?"

"The sixth line was Bridget's. I watched her sign it."

"On October eleventh?"

"Yes."

I slid the hospital bill across the desk, and Chef read the date at the top.

"Bridget Oakes was admitted at 6:40 that evening and discharged at 12:15 in the morning," Chef said.

Delaney's mouth opened slightly.

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