41. Kelly
Chapter 41
S adly, waking up to my alarm blaring the next morning doesn’t feel right. Running into Officer Cedric Ross standing on our front porch with two unknown policemen is even worse, especially when I’m worried about being late.
“Mornin’ Miss Kelly, I was wondering if we could speak with you and Mr. Carpenter this morning?” I look at Ross for a moment. He doesn’t appear to be any more of a morning person than I am, his grey eyes blinking in the bright morning light.
Sam is two steps behind me. “Kelly, Sweetheart. I know you’re an adult, but how can you eat this junk?” He’s holding up my box of peanut butter puff cereal and reading the ingredients. It’s delicious, but you should never read the ingredients. I can’t even pronounce half of that stuff. Sam draws up short when I don’t answer, finally noticing the people standing on his porch.
One of the unknown officers takes that moment to include themselves in the conversation. “Sir, are you Mr. Carpenter?”
Sam looks back and forth between the two new cops, and I don’t see any recognition in his eyes, either. “I’m one of four Mr. Carpenters who live here. Can you please be more specific?”
The two unknowns confer quietly between themselves while Ross just looks smug. Finally, the first one speaks again. “Is there a Mr. Steven Carpenter here?”
Sam’s glare turns hard, but he nods. “I’m sorry. He’s not exactly the most mobile at the moment. Can I ask why you need to see him?”
The second officer nods, but it’s still the first one talking. “Yes, sir, we’re running an internal investigation on recent events where Officer Paul Miller’s gun was used with lethal force. And I can only say that much since it pertains directly to the questions we need to ask the both of you.”
Letting out a big sigh, I turn to Sam, but he beats me to the plot. “If you’ll bring ’em inside, I’ll go relocate Steve to the living room, and call your bosses to let ’em know you’ll be late.” I don’t even have to wonder why he didn’t mention Xan or Gabe. If this is an investigation on Xan for shooting someone, they should already know I work for the guys. Still, probably better not to bring it up.
Soon, Steve and I are sitting on the old couch in the living room, Jake wedged between us. The two unknown officers—who still haven’t given me their names—sit with Ross on Steve and Garret’s couch, which is currently wedged into the room. But the guys were running out of space and just trying to shove everything in so they could take the truck back yesterday.
Officer number one sets a small recorder on the coffee table and then starts talking again. “So, Ms. Carpenter. From the information we’ve been provided, you and Mr. Steve Carpenter were present on the night of the shooting approximately two days ago?”
Steve and I both nod, and the officer nods in response, looking over the file that’s open in his lap. “And…Ms. Carpenter, can you tell us, in your own words…” He throws a glare at Ross that I don’t understand. “What happened, and what led up to a firearm being discharged at Mr. Carson?”
Steve and I spend the next half an hour or so going over being woken up and then assaulted by his dad. The officers stop us several times to clarify points; specifically, about Mr. Carson’s goons and when Steve was shot the first time.
Officer number two finally speaks up. “Mr. Carpenter, please forgive me for a moment, but wasn’t your last name Carson up until last week? Are you saying your own father shot you?” The man sounds skeptical at best, derisive at worst.
Steve’s eyes are hard when he answers the question. “Yes, I am saying my own father shot me…twice, and it fucking hurt. He also shot our dog and threatened to have his fucking goons rape our beta so that we wouldn’t want her an ymore. Marc Carson was never a nice man. That didn’t miraculously change when he followed us here.”
The two unknowns share an indecipherable look, but Ross starts talking. “I’m awful sorry, Miss Kelly. I know you need to get to work, so let’s move this on. Sunday morning, when all this shit happened…did you hear officer Paul Miller request the suspect lower his weapon and put his hands in the air?”
The two new officers are trying to talk over him, but Steve and I just nod in reply. Steve adds in, “At least a few times, I wasn’t exactly counting, sorry.”
Ross nods again. “And did either of you see Officer Paul shoot the suspect?” Steve and I both shake our heads.
Officer two throws up his skeptical look again, while officer one speaks for both of them. “I find it very hard to believe that you were both standing there, and failed to witness who might have shot Mr. Carson.”
This time at least I have something to add. I unwrap the floral scarf I’m wearing so they can see the ugly purple bruises still around my neck, and don’t bother to keep the rasp out of my voice. “Neither of us was standing anywhere. I was just waking up after being choked into unconsciousness by Mr. Carson’s…employees. Jake was lying partly on top of me, blocking my vision, and Steve was doing a funky kind of pushup over us both after he was shot the first time, trying to keep me safe. Oh, by the way, it was really amazing how you managed to hold that for so long. Seriously, I’m impressed.” This last part is said as an aside to Steve, who blushes at the compliment .
Ross starts talking again while the two others absorb this. “No, no, that makes sense. I remember that. Um…so, you can’t say for certain, but the chances of say…someone walking over, plucking the gun out of Paul’s hands, shooting Mr. Carson in the head, and then handing the gun back are pretty slim, right? I mean, what kind of crazy bastard would do something like that?” He meets my eyes with a smirk, because he knows exactly what kind of crazy bastard would do that.
Officer one stands up, his face angry. “Fucking hell, Ross. You’re ruining the investigation. We can’t get straight answers from anybody if you keep leading the witnesses like that. How the hell do you ever expect us to do our jobs and bring a possible murderer to justice if you keep blurting shit like that out?”
He turns to us, and his partner stands, glaring at Ross now. “Sir, ma’am. Thank you very much for your time and cooperation. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.” They berate Ross all the way out the door and down the steps, asking how no one in his department is able to give them clear answers. Ross smiles and waves as he hops in the backseat of their black SUV before they drive away.