Sixteen #2
When he dropped the chef’s knife, it bounced and landed close to the dead woman. I made it outside in time so I wasn’t sick on the carpet.
I sat at the table across from Hefron and Moore, my head in my hands as I explained for the fifth time what had happened at Joyce Fain’s house.
I had been fingerprinted, they had taken my hiking boots and clothes, and I was now in an orange jumpsuit that was definitely not made out of cotton and did nothing for my complexion.
Even though I knew they didn’t think I’d killed anyone, I was still nervous and sick to my stomach.
I had thrown up my entire breakfast and had resorted to dry heaving soon after.
Even though I’d seen two men shot to death at different times three years ago, it was different somehow, seeing a dead woman.
The fact that she was a mother was hard for me, so I was trying to think about anything else but her.
The jumpsuit, for example. I told myself it shouldn’t have mattered—woman or man, my feelings should have been the same—but it did and I couldn’t help it.
I was cold and shaking and the light was hurting my eyes.
“Tell me one more time, Jory,” Neal Moore prodded me.
“When can I see Caleb?”
“We’ll bring him in here before we take you guys back to the hotel to pick up your things.”
“What?”
“We’re taking you both to Mr. Harcourt’s residence. He’s agreed to house you both for the remainder of the investigation.”
“I wanna go home,” I told him.
“If you prefer.”
“I do.”
“And Mr. Reid?”
I shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Jory.”
I looked up into his face.
“There can’t be any more running around town tracking down leads. It’s too dangerous, and we will be forced to charge you with evidence tampering and interference in an ongoing criminal investigation should you persist.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“We’ll charge you with obstruction. Do you get it?”
I nodded. “I won’t do it anymore… I don’t know how Sam does this every day. I don’t know how you guys look at dead people and don’t just pass out right there.”
He nodded. “It’s the job, Jory.”
“Yeah…you can have it.” I sighed deeply.
I felt like a cold wind was blowing right through me.
“You’re shaking.”
“That’s because I’m freezing.”
There was a trace of a smile before he nodded. “Tell me again, Jory, from the time you got out of the car.”
So I did.
They told me that Joyce Fain had been dead for at least two days before we found her.
From how she was lying and the lack of any defensive wounds, she had been attacked from behind and her throat had been cut.
There were all kinds of things they knew from the blood spatter and the pool by her head.
Apparently, it would not have been hard to overpower the sixty-eight-year-old woman, as she wasn’t in good health.
Nothing had been taken from the house, her purse had a hundred and fifty dollars in it, and all her jewelry remained.
There was no reason for her to have been killed but for the fact that whoever had done it had gone there specifically to do so.
“Jory, you don’t look good.”
“It’s because I’m wearing orange.”
Detective Moore chuckled. “You need food and fluids and lots of sleep.”
I nodded, folding my arms and putting my head down on top of them. “Can I go see Sam?”
“Sure.”
I closed my eyes. “Thanks.”
“What were you hoping to gain by going to see Ms. Fain?”
“We were—I mean I…I was thinking that if I got to talk to her, then maybe she would be able to tell us who Greg hung out with.”
Moore nodded. “That’s good thinking.”
“Thanks,” I said, letting out a deep breath, shivering hard. “I really wanna see Sam.”
“Okay, buddy…okay. Jory, look at me. Jory…”
And I tried really hard to focus on him right before I saw spots and the room went dark.
It was bright, so I squinted when I opened my eyes. My groan was loud.
“Nice,” Dane growled at me.
I looked around. “I’m back in the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“How come?” I whined.
“Because you’re dehydrated, you still have a concussion—the same one, I might add—and your blood sugar is critically low.”
“I don’t have a concussion. I didn’t hit my—”
“Again, it’s the same one you had. You never gave yourself a second to heal, and then you got hit by whoever that guy was when you got between him and that woman, and you—”
“I still have a concussion?”
“It’s hysterical that you’re surprised.”
“Dane, I—”
“They gave you some glucose to help with your blood sugar and more fluid than I thought was possible—two IVs full of fluid—and…you know you always drink, like, a gallon of water a day, so your body is used to taking in that much. When you stop… That was really stupid.”
“Yeah, I know. I just haven’t had time.”
“What possessed you to go to that woman’s house?”
“It made sense, right? I mean, if I had gotten to talk to her, I would have asked her who her son hung out with. Maybe we could have put a face to Greg Fain’s buddy.”
He shook his head. “Well, apparently you and Caleb did a great job destroying evidence and just completely ruining the crime scene.”
“Yeah, but no one would have even known about the crime scene without me and Caleb.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Jory, someone else would have found that woman’s body, and when they did, they would have tied her murder to her son’s.
As it stands now, Caleb’s prints are on the murder weapon, yours are on the door, and both of your footprints are on the carpet.
If they find anything after they pull you two out of the mix, it will be a miracle. ”
I took a breath and stared at him.
“What were you looking for?”
“We were hoping to talk to her about—”
“No, I mean when you went through her stuff?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Why did you go through her things? What was the point of that?”
“We didn’t.”
“Well, apparently you did. They found Caleb’s prints everywhere.”
I scoffed at him. “Everywhere, my ass. I touched the door, like you said, same as Caleb, and stupidly, he touched the knife as well. But that’s it. That was all we did.”
“Maybe that’s what you think you and Caleb touched, but—”
“That’s all we touched, Dane.”
“Well, Moore told me they found Caleb’s prints all over everything. Her books, boxes in the basement, the chest at the end of her bed… They said the two of you must have tossed the place.”
“We did not,” I told him. “We went in the back door and that was as far as we got. I don’t know where he’s getting all that, but if he finds my prints or Caleb’s on anything else, he’s lying.”
“Why would he do that?”
“I don’t think he is, I’m just saying… I think he got it wrong. If someone was looking for something, it had to be the guy we’re after, not me or Caleb.”
He nodded. “Okay. I’ll ask him again.”
“Fine.”
He brushed my hair back from my face. “After you rest a little, we can go see Sam.”
“Sounds good,” I said, closing my eyes.
“After that, you’re coming home with me.”
“I don’t wanna go with—”
“Do I care what you want anymore?”
“Aww…c’mon, Dane, I—”
“Detective Hefron wants you to go back there with him tomorrow and show him exactly where you were in the house. He also wants you to look at everything in contrast to Ms. Fain’s cleaning lady. He wants to see if she notices anything different from what you did.”
“Like what, if anything, is out of place.”
“Exactly.”
“Fine. Whatever. I wanna see Caleb and make sure he’s all right.”
“He’s all right, Jory. Just rest.”
“But—”
“Rest,” he insisted, and he had his scowl going, so I didn’t want to mess with him.
I closed my eyes and told myself I would pretend to rest so he would stop bugging me. But it backfired, and I fell asleep.
The shaking was insistent, and I was irritated as I opened my eyes. This was a hospital; they were supposed to let you sleep. I was surprised to find Aja, looking just as annoyed.
“What’s the matter with you?” I asked her quickly.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she snapped at me. “Between you and Sam, where should I start?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. For goodness’ sake, Jory, my heart can’t take all this. Worrying about you, worrying about Sam… Could one of you,” she said, glaring at me, “quit?”
“I will. I’ll stop.”
As I sat up, I realized I wasn’t hooked up to anything anymore. Very exciting. “Hey, look—I got no strings on me.”
“I’m thrilled,” she said snidely. “Will you be doing any more running around, or are we through with that?”
“We’re through with that.” I yawned.
She lunged at me then, grabbing me tight, burying her face in the side of my neck. She shivered just once and then squeezed me as hard as she could. I hugged her, rubbing circles on her back.
“I’m all right.”
Easing free, she stared into my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Do you know when they’re going to release me?”
“The doctor was here maybe thirty minutes ago. He said he was going to get the paperwork going so you could leave when you woke up.”
“Awesome.” I smiled at her. “Then let’s get me changed and—”
“Wait.” She put up her hand. “You know Dane isn’t letting you go anywhere but home with us, right?”
“No, I’ll talk to him. He’ll change his mind, you’ll see.”
“I don’t know, Jory. He’s been pretty upset.”
“I know I put you both through a lot, but—”
“Jory, half the time I don’t know whether to hug you or strangle you. I need to know that you’re safe, and I really can’t fault Dane’s logic. If he can see you, he knows you’re all right.”
“I guess.”
“He told me he’s going to hire you a bodyguard too.”
“How’s yours? Is he hot?”
“No, not so much.” She widened her eyes.
“No Kevin Costner?”
“Absolutely not.”
I had to smile; she was so cute.
She glared at me and stood from where she’d been sitting next to me on my bed. “Get up and change. I brought you stuff to wear.”
After I took a quick shower, I was back into my own clothes and felt better. I walked with my sister-in-law to Sam’s room. I complained about the gel she’d bought me the whole way.
“God, do I even get a thank-you?” she chided me.
“I said thank you a hundred times.”
“Then quit bitching about your hair. It looks fine.”