“A little bit.”
David grabs my shoulder and inspects the wrapping. The remnants of dried blood are still caked on my clothes. “You okay? Do we need to get you to a hospital?”
I shrug him off. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“You’ve seen a doctor? He said you were okay?”
“Yes, that’s why I’m dressed like a nurse tonight. And hey, it’s the twenty-first century. We have women doctors now.”
“So you saw a woman doctor?”
“That’s… neither here nor there. Big picture, David!”
He rubs his temples. “You’re exhausting. Let’s get back to tonight. Why did you come here?”
“Because I thought Leona shot me, and I came here to warn Carmen Viramontes about her.”
“Leona?”
“Yeah.”
“The dead woman?”
I sigh. “I’m willing to admit I was wrong about that one.”
David stares at me for a moment before saying, “You honestly think anyone’s gonna buy that story?”
“Look, once the ME confirms the time of death and the fact that she was not shot, and the police on scene confirm the time frame, you’ll see it confirms my statement.”
“You haven’t provided a statement.”
“I just did.”
“I am not the detective on scene, you…” David punches and kicks the seat in front of him over and over and over. The entire car shakes as he violently releases all the frustration I’m causing him. Then he stops.
“Better?” I ask.
David opens the door and exits the car. He slams the door shut with more enthusiasm than is necessary. I watch as he marches toward Ed Snyder. Good old fun-filled Ed. They have a brief and heated exchange then disappear into the house together. I look out the window at Paige, who is also watching the scene. She shakes her head.
A few minutes later, David comes marching out of the house alone. He stomps his way to my car, opens the back door, and slides in beside me. He doesn’t immediately say anything.
I finally ask, “Well?”
“You were right—it wasn’t a gunshot. And her heart’s missing. I don’t have an exact time of death, but it’s roughly two hours ago.”
“See? It couldn’t have been me.”
“Where were you two hours ago?”
“Hollydale Homes. Seeing my new doctor.”
He shakes his head. “I wish you’d listened to me and stayed home.”
“That’s where I was shot, remember?”
He sighs. “Right.”
“David,” I say, keeping my tone serious, “they know where I live.”
He nods his understanding. The body count is piling up, and someone means to add me to the list. “Do you know where Carmen is?”
I shake my head. “I haven’t heard from her. I came here to warn her. If she’s smart, she’s hiding.”
“Why did Paige fire her gun?”
If I give David a reason, and Paige gives a different one, we’re screwed. “I don’t know.”
This is the safest answer I can provide. I can’t speculate, so whatever motivation Paige conjures up, I can’t contradict. If Paige says she saw an assailant, that’s her reason. If she says she saw an ethereal spirit from another dimension attacking me, my answer still works.
“You’re in more trouble than you’re worth.”
That hurts me more than I care to admit. The last thing in the world I want is for David to feel that. It would be nice if he could be the type of guy who, for once, thought I was… worth the trouble. David exits the vehicle and closes the door behind him.
“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I say to no one.
He walks over to the detective who was questioning Paige earlier, who is now with Snyder. They talk, and I can tell that David is working to convince him of something. The other detective continually shakes his head then finally lifts his hands in defeat. He yells something unintelligible as he points at Paige, then me, before finally walking away.
David tries to walk away, too, and Snyder grabs him. I can only assume Snyder is trying to talk some sense into David. Hopefully, David will make an irrational decision for my benefit.
I spend the next fifteen minutes watching David talk to several different people—presumably other detectives and the commander on the scene. Eventually, David signs off on some document before he walks over to the police car that’s holding Paige. He opens the door and helps her out then uncuffs her. When he heads over to me, she follows him.
He opens my door and sweetly says, “Get out of the car.” I shimmy my way to the door, and before I’m even standing, David is walking away. “Let’s go.”
I hurry after Paige, who’s following David. My feet are still sore, so I quickly fall behind them. “What about my cuffs?”
David ignores me, so Paige turns to me. “I think he’s mad at you.”
“What did I do?”
“And he took my gun,” she adds.
“David! Why did you take her gun?”
He doesn’t even slow down. “One, she’s not supposed to be carrying a gun around. It’s illegal.”
“Then write her a ticket. I’m sure she’d be happy to pay.”
“Hey!” Paige objects.
“And two,” David continues, “it’s evidence in a murder investigation!”
“She didn’t shoot Leona!”
“Doesn’t matter.”
We continue following him to his police-issued blue Dodge Charger parked in the driveway. He opens the front door for Paige, and she slides inside. I wait at the rear door, but he ignores me and climbs into the driver’s seat. I struggle to open the door with my cuffed hands then tumble inside and fall into the back seat.
“No help?” I say to Paige.
“That’s for the ticket comment.”
David starts the engine and pulls forward. The movement of the car shuts the door for me. The Charger pulls out through gates, and as I deduced, the residential street is lined with news vans, reporters, and cameras. Uniformed officers open a lane as David slowly navigates his way through the crowd. Flashbulbs go off. The car finally emerges from the crowd.
David sighs. “I’m going to take you home so you can pack your things. You can’t stay there if this person who took a shot at you knows where you live. Do you have somewhere you can stay? With someone you trust?”
Yeah,