and grime that clung to it revealed first a handle and then a strap with notches and a thin metal buckle that secured it shut. It didn’t look all that different from the document brief bags that TV lawyers carried into court with them.
Sean found himself short of breath as he held the bag up in the air and illuminated it for a closer look. Inside it, there had to be some answers to his questions. He nearly yanked it open right then and there but paused for a moment to weigh the consequences of doing so. He worried about the concept of tainted evidence and feared that breaking open the bag would somehow diminish its legitimacy if he offered it up as proof to Lumbergh of what he’d seen transpire at the bridge.
He didn’t ponder the dilemma for very long. He believed that going back to Lumbergh would only complicate things, and he didn’t feel like being accused by the chief of planting the bag to further prolong a story that wasn’t believed in the first place.
“Fuck it,” he muttered before swallowing some bile and reaching for the buckle.
Chapter 12
D iana crawled into bed at 11:34 p.m. The small room was dark, but she could tell her husband was still awake by the sound of his breathing. Lying flat on his back, shirtless and with a forearm behind his head, he lifted the covers for his wife as she slid in next to him. Strong rain pounded the rooftop mercilessly. Water gushing through a drainpipe outside sounded like a waterfall.
“Is she back down?” he asked, not sounding at all tired.
“She went right back to sleep. Probably a bad dream,” she said. “I tried calling Sean again. Still a busy signal. He must have taken the phone off the hook.”
“In no mood for talking, I’d imagine,” he added.
She placed her arm over his chest and rested her head along his shoulder. Clad in one of the oversized, button-down shirts she preferred to sleep in, she could feel the beat of her husband’s heart against her shoulder. Minutes went by as they silently stared at the ceiling; the sound of the storm was almost inaudible against the thoughts racing through their minds. A loud roar of thunder suddenly sent a tremble through the house. When it ended, she spoke.
“Is it possible he’s telling the truth?”
It was the same question Gary had been asking himself throughout the day. “Anything’s possible, but I scoured that bridge. Believe me, for the sake of your brother’s own sanity, I was hoping to find some blood . . . or anything .” “Did you check the forest?”
“Around the bridge, we did. We found nothing.”
“Why would he make it up, Gary? It doesn’t make sense.”
He turned to her, cupping her shoulder with his free hand. “I stopped trying to figure out Sean Coleman a long time ago.”
She turned more to him, studying him in the flashes of lightning for several moments. She kissed his lips. “I’m so sorry, honey. You shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”
She ran the inside of her bare thigh against his and placed her hand behind his head, pulling him into a deeper kiss. He smiled in the darkness and pulled his wife on top of him. His hands slid down to her hips.
Pulsed flashes of lightning lit up the room from a side window. Diana let out a surprised gasp as she caught the reflection of a hunched-over figure in the wide mirror above her dresser. She quickly spun up off of Gary and to her knees, her head whipping toward the bedroom door. As another battering of thunder punished the sky above, his wife’s sudden movement led Gary to instinctively reach for his nightstand drawer where he kept a pistol. Instead, his knuckles sent a small half-filled glass of water to the floor where it shattered loudly.
“Mom?” Diane called out.
Gary twisted his body away from the doorway and quickly felt for the small lamp beside him. When the bulb clicked on, he turned back to see Diana lunging toward her now-awake mother.
Dolores stood just inside the doorway, bent at the hip
Sean found himself short of breath as he held the bag up in the air and illuminated it for a closer look. Inside it, there had to be some answers to his questions. He nearly yanked it open right then and there but paused for a moment to weigh the consequences of doing so. He worried about the concept of tainted evidence and feared that breaking open the bag would somehow diminish its legitimacy if he offered it up as proof to Lumbergh of what he’d seen transpire at the bridge.
He didn’t ponder the dilemma for very long. He believed that going back to Lumbergh would only complicate things, and he didn’t feel like being accused by the chief of planting the bag to further prolong a story that wasn’t believed in the first place.
“Fuck it,” he muttered before swallowing some bile and reaching for the buckle.
Chapter 12
D iana crawled into bed at 11:34 p.m. The small room was dark, but she could tell her husband was still awake by the sound of his breathing. Lying flat on his back, shirtless and with a forearm behind his head, he lifted the covers for his wife as she slid in next to him. Strong rain pounded the rooftop mercilessly. Water gushing through a drainpipe outside sounded like a waterfall.
“Is she back down?” he asked, not sounding at all tired.
“She went right back to sleep. Probably a bad dream,” she said. “I tried calling Sean again. Still a busy signal. He must have taken the phone off the hook.”
“In no mood for talking, I’d imagine,” he added.
She placed her arm over his chest and rested her head along his shoulder. Clad in one of the oversized, button-down shirts she preferred to sleep in, she could feel the beat of her husband’s heart against her shoulder. Minutes went by as they silently stared at the ceiling; the sound of the storm was almost inaudible against the thoughts racing through their minds. A loud roar of thunder suddenly sent a tremble through the house. When it ended, she spoke.
“Is it possible he’s telling the truth?”
It was the same question Gary had been asking himself throughout the day. “Anything’s possible, but I scoured that bridge. Believe me, for the sake of your brother’s own sanity, I was hoping to find some blood . . . or anything .” “Did you check the forest?”
“Around the bridge, we did. We found nothing.”
“Why would he make it up, Gary? It doesn’t make sense.”
He turned to her, cupping her shoulder with his free hand. “I stopped trying to figure out Sean Coleman a long time ago.”
She turned more to him, studying him in the flashes of lightning for several moments. She kissed his lips. “I’m so sorry, honey. You shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like this.”
She ran the inside of her bare thigh against his and placed her hand behind his head, pulling him into a deeper kiss. He smiled in the darkness and pulled his wife on top of him. His hands slid down to her hips.
Pulsed flashes of lightning lit up the room from a side window. Diana let out a surprised gasp as she caught the reflection of a hunched-over figure in the wide mirror above her dresser. She quickly spun up off of Gary and to her knees, her head whipping toward the bedroom door. As another battering of thunder punished the sky above, his wife’s sudden movement led Gary to instinctively reach for his nightstand drawer where he kept a pistol. Instead, his knuckles sent a small half-filled glass of water to the floor where it shattered loudly.
“Mom?” Diane called out.
Gary twisted his body away from the doorway and quickly felt for the small lamp beside him. When the bulb clicked on, he turned back to see Diana lunging toward her now-awake mother.
Dolores stood just inside the doorway, bent at the hip
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