Detective Scott chuckled. “That’s fair. We’re talking about a group of three men who came into the ER. They were all white, and we believe they were involved in a crime syndicate. We are currently investigating a series of burglaries that occurred in the Hightown District and we believe that the patients that came into your hospital that day might have been involved.”
I nodded. I crossed my arms over my chest before I spoke, sitting down on the sofa in front of them. “Shouldn’t you be speaking to them?”
“We are attempting to speak to them,” Detective Scott said. “They were both checked out of the hospital before we could, and we have been unable to track them down.”
“Okay…”
Detective Bryson smiled. “We understand that you probably don’t have any information regarding the suspects, but we do need to follow up on every lead. Did you know one of them? Outside of being your patient?”
I nodded. “Yes. He was my high school boyfriend.”
They looked at each other, then Detective Bryson smiled again. “That must have been awkward for you.”
I licked my teeth before I answered. “Yes. It was awkward, but I got over it. He was hurt, and I have a duty of care to my patients. Just like the EMTs do,” I said. “No crime was being committed at the time, so there was absolutely no need for us to call the police. Everything was well in hand.”
“We don’t doubt that. Do you happen to have his information?”
I waited for a second. “What information?”
“Jody Banks’ information,” Detective Bryson said, her smile never quite leaving her face. “We only want to speak to him. I understand that you might feel protective, but you don’t have to worry.”
I bit down on my lower lip. “I don’t feel protective,” I said, and wondered if they could tell it was a lie. “I can give you his phone number, but I don’t have anything else.”
That was sort of true. I didn’t know what his address was, though I did know where he lived.
“That will be helpful, if you want to give that to us,” Detective Scott said. “Then we’ll get out of your hair.”
“Great,” I said. “Let me just get my phone, it’s on charge in the bedroom.”
With my heart beating so fast I thought I might actually faint; I made my way towards the bedroom. I was trying my best to pretend that I wasn’t affected by this visit, and overall, I was pretty good in a crisis. However, I hadn’t expected any of this. Once again, I thought about warning him, but it felt risky to do so when the detectives were speaking in hushed tones in my living room.
I didn’t want to risk it. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand, gripping it so tightly in my hands I was sure it was going to leave marks, and walked over to the living room again. After I rattled off his number, they both thanked me and told me that they might be in touch again. They left me a card with their phone numbers and their rank and their IDs, which was helpful, but also a little scary.
They walked outside my house, and as soon as I heard their footsteps receding, I called Jody. “Where are you?”
“I’m just leaving the bakery,” he said. “I couldn’t decide on a flavor, so it looks like we are stocked for days, we have mint, bacon, vanilla strawberry—wait, you’re not a vegetarian, are—”
“Jody, stop,” I said.
He stopped. “Is everything okay?”
“No. Yes, I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Okay, well, you sound very certain…”
“The police were just here. I gave them your phone number. You should probably wait, at least a few minutes before you come around.”
“Okay,” he said, and I could hear him take a deep breath before he spoke again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. A little shaken.”
“Okay. Well, if they have left, I can wait about another half an hour. If you won’t be sleeping.”
“They were asking about some burglaries or something. Do you know anything about that?”
He sighed. “I would rather not say.”
“I deserve to know,” I said. “It would be fine if it was just your life, but the police are knocking on my door, not yours. So I need you to tell me the truth, Jody, even if you don’t want to.”
He thought for a second. “Fine,” he said. “Okay. Give me about thirty minutes, and then I’ll be on my way.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
2019
He hadn’t been joking about the number of cupcakes that he had bought. We had a lot of dessert, to the point where it was excessive, and we had a few Styrofoam containers piled up on the coffee table in the living room.
Neither one of us had touched them.
I was staring at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, which would make the visit from the detectives not feel quite as terrible as it had felt. He was quiet, far too quiet, and he looked like he had lost the light, breezy approach he normally had. I was a little worried about him, but I was too angry and scared to console him, and I stayed on the other side of the sofa as he gathered his thoughts.
I didn’t know how long it was going to take him to open up, but even if it took all night, I was going nowhere until he explained himself. I stared at him, unsure of what I was supposed to say,
