“Gosh, this is complicated.”
“It certainly is. I guess Brandon, Bennett, and John Krisanski, who goes by the nickname Jack, all went to high school together. According to his sister, Lauren—who is cooperating fully with the sheriff by the way—they were close friends, but Jack was always the odd man out. Bennett and Brandon were both popular and wealthy, while Jack was neither. Jack was the guy they’d dare to eat a hot pepper, or go make a fool of himself in front of a girl, that kind of thing. Things changed in tenth grade when Jack took the blame for Bennett and Brandon after they’d gotten caught with weed on school grounds. It created a strong bond between them and they remained friends all these years even though their lives had gone in very different directions.
“Lauren told Carl that Jack was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder at the age of seventeen, which explained his trouble making friends, dealing with authority, holding down a job, etcetera. He didn’t go to college and floated from job to job, even did a stint in Augusta Correctional for assault; he beat up a former boss of his pretty badly. Fast-forward to about a year ago when Brandon got the idea to re-launch Invigor8 around this new tobacco-based biologic. He talked Bennett into investing millions into the company and Jack into trading his land for shares of stock, effectively making the three of them business partners.”
I tried to scoot myself up against my headboard with my good leg, the one that didn’t feel like it was coated in hot oil, but had trouble lifting my body weight.
“Here, let me,” Holman said, offering me his arm to use as leverage. “You okay?”
I nodded, ignoring the painful pulsating sensation coming from my lower leg.
“Then Jack’s mom got sick and he took her to see Dr. Davenport, not only because Arthur had the best reputation in the hospital, but on the recommendation of Brandon and Bennett—this was before he found out about the affair. Anyway, when things went south during Helen’s procedure—a truly tragic outcome that no one could have foreseen—Jack went out of his mind with a mixture of guilt, grief, and apparently homicidal rage.”
“Wow,” was all I could think to say. This was all pretty unbelievable.
“According to Lauren, Helen had always been Jack’s biggest supporter, the one person in his life who remained constant despite his struggles. Jack blamed Dr. Davenport for his mom’s death. And as if that wasn’t enough, Dr. Davenport quit the Invigor8 study a few weeks later, which Jack believed would tank the whole project. So then when he found out about the affair between Arthur and Libby, Jack not only blamed Arthur for his mother’s death and for ruining his chance to hit it big with the Invigor8 drug, but also for his friend’s heart attack. He convinced himself that Arthur Davenport was the devil himself.”
“Jack confessed to all of this?”
“Not exactly.” He shook his head. “This is all patched together from Lauren, Brandon, and Sheriff Haight.”
And then suddenly I remembered the newsroom. Why wasn’t Holman there reporting all of this? As if he read my mind, he pointed to his briefcase sitting on the window ledge. “Don’t worry. I’ve been logging updates from here. Kay knows where I am and is fine with it.”
“Thanks, Will.”
I can’t be sure, but I thought I saw him suppress a smile. “Anyway, this is a long story and I want to get through it before you pass out again.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Go ahead.”
“Jack told Carl that he laced the bottle of scotch with crushed Digoxigon, which he knew Thad sold because he’d seen him with it around the hospital. He dropped by Arthur’s house the night of the murder, rang the bell, and offered him the bottle as a gift to show there were no hard feelings about what happened to his mother. Jack told Carl that Arthur had been so moved he suggested they have a toast right then. Jack made up some story about being a recovering addict but watched as Arthur had himself a healthy pour.”
So I had been partially right about what had happened; I had the how down, I’d just been wrong about the who.
“Jack left and then hid out back to wait for Arthur to pass out. He even heard the whole argument between Thad and his father—which of course played right into his plan to set up Thad. When Arthur finally collapsed about an hour later, Jack went back inside to make sure he was dead. That’s when he saw the knife with Thad’s initials sitting on Arthur’s desk. He said it was a last-minute improvisation to stab Dr. Davenport, to make ‘damn sure’ Thad took the blame.”
“And what about David? Why did Jack go after him?”
Just then there was a gentle knocking sound on the open door. I thought it was going to be my parents, but it was Carl. He peeked his head in the room. “Ah, so you’re awake.”
“Whatever you do,” Holman said, “do not attempt to use humor as medicine.”
Carl furrowed his brow; thankfully he knew better than to ask. “How you doing, Riley?”
The pain in my leg was getting louder but I didn’t want to tell anyone because I was afraid they’d leave, and I really wanted to hear the rest of the story.
“I’m
