Chapter 17
Theo
Now
EGH
I keep myself close to Holly as the three of us walk down the hallway towards the ER.
This is all my fault. That message had clearly asked her to come alone with the threat of turning her in to the police.
If I hadn’t followed her to that decrepit building, if I had just listened for once in my life, then perhaps she wouldn’t be in this predicament right now.
I want to apologise, but I doubt my apologies are going to do Holly any good now.
She doesn’t need apologies, she needs my help.
I’m the one who got Holly into this mess.
I need to be the one who gets her out of it as well.
The intern walks a few paces ahead of us, leading the way, while I stare at the back of Holly’s head.
Her short blonde waves peek out of her loose bun, a few strands escaping to brush her shoulders.
Her stethoscope is looped around her neck.
Her hands are stuffed in the pockets of her lab coat, clenching and unclenching.
She’s stressed. Of course, she is. So am I, but it’s best not to show it.
I lean in next to her. “I’m assuming you’re familiar with the Miranda Rights?”
Holly flinches a hair, her head snapping a fraction in my direction without breaking stride. “What?”
“Anything you say can and will be held against you.”
As expected, she shoots me her “shut the fuck up before I gouge your eyes out with my bare hands” glare.
Guilt winds its way around me, a tight vise around my throat. “Everything’s going to be fine, all right? Just stay calm and don’t speak without thinking twice.”
“If only you took your own advice, then you’d have a torso that hasn’t been stabbed by your coworker.”
“As charming as I find your sarcasm, this is exactly the kind of tone you cannot use in front of the police.” Not slowing down, I grab her arm and pull her close. “You cannot stab your way out of this one, Holly. Do you understand that? It is important to me that you understand that.”
Her eyes flick to where my fingers are wrapped around her, then to my lips, and back to my eyes. “You’re making me sound like Chucky.”
“Chucky isn’t nearly as terrifying as you. Nor as beautiful.”
Her eyes narrow in the way they do when she's trying to act annoyed, but beneath that mask, I swear I see a flicker of pink creeping up her neck.
A blush, a genuine blush, just for me. The urge to reach out and trace the flush with my finger is overwhelming, but I clench my fist at my side.
I need to behave. I have to focus on the task at hand.
She looks away. “Nobody is going to stab anyone. You’re being dramatic.”
“All your plans involve stabbing. Remember. Brute force is no substitute for diplomacy and guile.”
She gives me the middle finger. “Noted.”
We finally reach the ER to find everyone waiting for us. A few attendings, all the interns, some of the ER nurses, even one of the hospital security guards. Holly stands next to me. She shifts her weight from one foot to another, fidgeting with her pockets.
Her intern quickly scurries over to stand with the rest of the interns.
Two men in suits flank Holly’s attending.
One of them turns around to face us, his badge clearly visible on his chest. His eyes are narrowed as he slowly approaches us, his entire focus glued to Holly as if he’s trying to dissect her face and deduce all her secrets.
“You must be Miss Moore,” he says, holding out a hand. Holly doesn’t take it. Good girl. “Thank you for meeting with us. I’m Detective Grant and this is my partner, Detective Montgomery.”
The other guy nods curtly. “Hello.”
Holly’s brow furrows. “What is this about?” Her voice is too tight. Too defensive.
The one named Grant pulls out a picture from his jacket pocket and flips it around towards Holly. “Miss Moore, do you know this man?”
Frown deepening, she takes the picture. I watch her face closely. It takes all but two seconds for her confusion to turn into shock, then fear, and finally realization. Holly shakes her head and hands back the picture. “No.”
“His name is Josh Duvall,” the detective continues. “He was reported missing two days ago. We got an anonymous tip that you might know something about his whereabouts.”
Josh Duvall. The man from the bar. She buried him in the woods after slitting his wrists.
She swallows hard, her eyes darting around the room like a trapped animal searching for an exit. The others in the room are all looking at her with increased scrutiny. Unease coils in my gut.
“I'm sorry,” Holly says, shaking her head a little too quickly. “I don't know who this man is.”
The other detective, Montgomery, speaks up, his tone comparatively softer. “That's all right, ma'am. We're just following up on any leads we can find. Even if you don't recognize him, maybe you know something that could help us?”
Holly shakes her head again, more forcefully this time. “I wish I could, but really, I don’t know anything about this man. I’m sorry.”
I can practically taste the tension radiating off her body. Grant's eyes narrow, suspicion replacing the clipped politeness. "Miss Moore, where were you two nights ago, around eight?"
Holly hesitates, then blurts out, “A bar.”
“Which bar?”
A small pause. “I-I can’t remember.”
“And after that?”
“After the bar? I went home. Alone.”
“Do you have anyone who can corroborate this story?”
Holly’s jaw clenches. “I live alone, so no.”
They aren’t buying it. Grant leans in to mutter something to his partner.
Their hushed conversation is too quiet for me to catch, but I see a flicker of doubt cross the other guy’s face.
Grant straightens up and turns back to Holly, his expression grim.
“Miss Moore, I’m afraid you’ll have to come down to the station with us.
We need to ask you a few more questions about Josh Duvall. ”
Oh, this isn't good.
The color from Holly’s face drains. She opens her mouth, about to say something, but I beat her to it. “She was with me.”
Pin-drop silence.
Holly whips her head in my direction, her eyes wide with confusion. The detectives mirror her surprise.
“And you are?” Detective Grants asks.
“Theo Carter.” I force my most charming smile. “Holly and I work together.”
His gaze flicks between us two. “So, you’re saying Miss Moore was with you two nights ago?”
“Doctor Moore. And yes, she was. We uh…we didn't want to bring it up like this, but...” I steal a glance at Holly, faking some regret, trying to signal her to play along, and she keeps staring at me like she wants to kick me in the chest. “I think it's time we told them the truth, love.”
Holly’s entire body goes rigid.
Somewhere, deep in the dark forest of my mind, a warning bell starts to ring.
I should probably shut up. A lie to cover up another lie doesn’t seem like a very good idea, especially when there’s a murder involved, but is it technically a lie?
Just because Holly and I aren’t together at this very moment, doesn’t mean we won’t be eventually. Holly and I are inevitable. Like death.
It’s not lying. It’s just borrowing a truth from the future. And how would anyone here even know the difference?
I turn back to the detective. “We’ve been seeing each other for a while. Holly didn’t…we didn’t want anyone else to know. You know how it is with workplace romances. Tons of paperwork, HR meetings.”
The entire ER grinds to a halt. Everyone is now staring at me with gaping jaws.
Grant turns to Holly. “Is this true?”
She takes a deep breath and tugs at her lab coat.
She clears her throat, clearly at a loss for words.
When she finally does speak, the words come out in a rush, “Yes…yes, it is.” She plasters on a fake smile and a nod, but I can tell that she’s fuming underneath.
“I was with Theo.” She shoots me a subtle sideways glance that screams my demise for later.
“Was that before or after the bar?” the detective presses.
“Both,” I jump in. “We left work together, got a few drinks, and went back to my place.” I look at Holly. “You can probably figure out the rest.”
Her face grows red with embarrassment. I almost expect her to open her mouth so that she can tell me to fuck off and die, but instead she just clenches her jaw and curls her fists at her side, the veins in her neck throbbing like a bassline.
“You could always ask the bartender who was working that night to confirm our story,” I say to both detectives, hoping to put an end to their suspicions.
They study our faces carefully, eyes narrowed, hoping to find a crack in our facade.
Grant mutters something to his partner, who in turn raises an eyebrow at me, clearly amused by some inner joke between the two of them. Morons. Grant steps back. “That won’t be needed, Dr. Carter.”
Brilliant.
“We’ll reach out if we require anything else,” he says. “Thank you for your time, Miss —” he hesitates, glances at me, “— Dr. Moore.”
I smile.
“You two have a good night,” his partner adds with a gruff nod, and then they both leave.
Holly waits for them to be out of earshot before sidestepping to stand in front of me. “Okay, what the fuck was that?”
My eyes narrow. But before I can get a word out, Dr. Corbin ambles over. “A word, Dr. Moore?” he says, then glances at me. “You too, Carter.”
Holly’s eyebrows knit together, and she glances at me, like this is all my fault. It probably is. But perhaps Dr. Corbin just wants to congratulate us on our newly discovered relationship.
“What you two do in your personal time is none of my business,” he begins, proving my delusion wrong.
“However, if you are, as you very clearly told those officers, in a relationship, then I expect you to set up a meeting with HR as soon as possible for the necessary paperwork…” His voice trails off. My senses are scrambled.
Strawberries.