Chapter 21: In Custody

The deputy drove Lance to the sheriff's office with the car's air on full, and Brice and I followed in the truck.

Lance had asked for the front doors.

He wanted the reporters.

Eleven of them stood on the steps in the afternoon glare, because someone at the clinic had posted the whole kneeling scene online in twenty minutes.

He stopped in the shade of the doorway and held up one hand.

The cameras went quiet.

"My name is Lance Lyle," he said. "I am revoking my own bail. I am going back to jail today, and I want to give my full statement to the detective."

A reporter called out, "Is it true you were left unharmed by a curse?"

"It isn't a curse," Lance said. "It's something she did for me, and I never knew it."

He swallowed.

"I took water out of her hand on a hundred and twenty degree day. I told the ranger there were seven of us. I knew there were eight."

"Lance!" someone shouted. "Lance!"

He walked inside.

I stood on the steps with Brice's arm around my shoulders and watched the glass door close.

They let me into the observation room, because the detective asked me and because Lance did.

It was a small gray room with a window and a speaker, kept at sixty-six degrees.

He sat on the far side of the glass with the recorder in front of him and his hands flat on the table.

The detective set a legal pad down.

"Mr. Lyle, your attorney isn't present."

"I waived him."

"You understand this is a recorded statement."

"I understand."

"Start whenever you want."

Lance looked at the glass.

He couldn't see me through it, but he looked at the spot where I was.

"On the trail," he said. "At 1:41 she called my name on the channel."

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