“Of course. I’ll be here when you come back,” Hannah promised.
Vanessa disappeared up the stairs, escorted by Officer Blackhall. While she was gone, another officer approached Hannah. “We’ve already mentioned it to your friend, but we’re expecting her at the police station at ten in the morning to go over her statement again. I just want to let you know, in case it slips her mind – seeing something like this would put anyone in shock. You’re a good friend, letting her stay with you on such short notice. It’s going to be better for her than going to a motel.”
“Of course,” Hannah said, even though the officer’s statement was news to her. It made sense, though, now that she thought about it. She didn’t want her friend to have to be alone in a motel room either.
It seemed Vanessa hadn’t thought of it either, because when she came down with her bag of clothing and toiletries, she just stood there, looking shell-shocked. Hannah stood up and nudged her. “Let’s go back to my place. I’ll make some warm cider or something, then we can talk, or just go to bed if that’s what you want.”
Vanessa didn’t talk at all until they were pulling into Hannah’s driveway, when she seemed to come back to herself a bit. “Thank you,” she said softly. “For coming to get me, and for letting me stay with you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner,” Hannah said. “Why don’t you go into the kitchen? I can bring your things up to the guest room.”
Vanessa simply nodded and walked slowly into the house while Hannah dragged the bag out of the car and through the garage door into the hallway. Seeing her spitfire friend so subdued was concerning, and Hannah hurried to bring the bag upstairs, setting it on the bed in the guest room just down the hall from Hannah’s room. She looked around, making sure everything was in place. She had finally gotten around to painting the room. It had pale blue walls, dark gray sheets and bedding, and a dark wooden armoire against the far wall. There was a lamp on the bedside table that had a soft, warm glow, and a nightstand with a box of tissues and a charging station for cell phones. She still wanted to put up some pictures or paintings and maybe find a hardy houseplant to put by the window, but it was definitely more than serviceable now.
When she went downstairs, she found Vanessa sitting on one of the stools by the island and staring at the counter. Hannah moved over to the fridge and said, “What would you like to drink?”
Vanessa shrugged. “Cider is fine.”
While Hannah heated up the cider and got mugs out for the two of them, she kept shooting glances at her friend. Vanessa seemed to be done with crying for now, but her sitting silently and staring off into space was almost worse. Maybe drawing her into conversation would help.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I guess.”
At her friend’s toneless voice, Hannah bit her lip. “We don’t have to, of course. Whatever you need, Vanessa.”
“We were supposed to meet at my apartment after work,” Vanessa said. Hannah nodded, remembering their earlier conversation. “I was late – I had to help clean up a mess at the bar. I texted Rory when I left, telling him I was finally on my way, but he didn’t answer. I thought he might be driving. It never occurred to me that –” She broke off and took a sip of the hot cider Hannah had put in front of her. “I was the one who found him. I got to the top of the stairs, and he was on the ground, leaning against my door, and there was so much blood…” She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “He was dead. I could tell right away. Someone stabbed him, Hannah. Right in front of my apartment door. I just… I don’t understand…”
Her breath caught in her throat and she put the mug down. She seemed to be fighting back tears.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said, feeling helpless. “I wish I could help.”
“I wish I had been there earlier,” Vanessa said. “I wish –” Her face darkened. “This is all Helena’s fault. If she had just taken the shift like she’d said she would, Rory and I would’ve been able to go out like we’d originally planned and none of this would have happened.”
Hannah didn’t know what to say about that, so she simply sipped her cider and squeezed her friend’s hand.
Chapter Five
Hannah woke up before her alarm the next morning, having gotten a restful night’s sleep despite the long and exhausting day she’d had. The house was silent, and for a moment, as she laid in bed, her thoughts floated to everyday things, like wondering if she had to pick up any groceries, trying to remember if she had actually put laundry in the washing machine the night before like she had intended to do, and hoping Ben had had as good of a time as she had.
Then, with a feeling like she had fallen into a frozen lake, she remembered Vanessa and what had happened after her dinner with Ben. She jumped out of bed, tossing the blankets off her with such force that they fell onto the floor, and hurried to the bedroom door before she chided herself. Vanessa wasn’t a child. If she was still asleep, then Hannah should be careful not to wake her up. It wasn’t even eight yet, and they had a couple of hours before they had to be at the police station. She could use this time to make breakfast instead of yanking a sleeping, grieving woman out
