I didn’t recognize called from the other side of the door. “Police! Open
up!”
In
the time it took me to lift my head and look out through the kitchen, the
police had kicked the door in.
Scott
stirred drunkenly and got a good grip on the gun. I shot to my feet and, legs
churning, headed toward the cop standing in the doorway.
I
don’t know what made me do it. I wish to God I hadn’t. As I was running, I
turned to look back at Scott.
He
was still on his knees. His gaze met mine. His eyes were moist, blank with
despair and anguish. I heard him whisper my name just before he put the end of
the pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I
was surprised to see the crowd gathered outside my apartment. It had snowed
overnight, about three inches. Traffic had already churned the snow into an icy
brown slop. The sky was gray and leaden, like my soul at that moment.
A
dozen cop cars had the building surrounded. An ambulance sat behind them. My
parents were there, as well as Marybeth, Willow, Mr. Dreyfus, and Asher. I
hadn’t heard a thing inside.
The
wonderful hero cop who caught me as I sped toward my kitchen door had wrapped a
dark woolen blanket around me. I guess he thought I was cold. I was
shivering, but it was from an overload of adrenaline.
They
wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused. I just wanted my dad. I
broke down sobbing when they handed me off to him. He crushed me against his
chest and cried too.
Scott
was surely dead in my apartment. The grim looks on the faces of the cops told
me I was right. I heard them call for the coroner as the ambulance team
unloaded the gurney.
Poor
Mister Dreyfus was bone-white and shaking, smoking one cigarette right after
the other. They asked him to come inside to identify the body, but he just
stood frozen, a statue of grief, as smoke curled around him. It was a horrible
thing to ask a parent to do. I felt like I should say something to him, but I
couldn’t think of anything. It was beyond senseless. I’d simply gone to get a
pair of shorts from my car on that night so long ago, and now his son was
dead.
My
dad spun me around and placed me into Asher’s arms so he could interrogate the
police officer who’d brought me out of the building. It was the embrace of a
trusted friend.
“How
did you know?” I glanced up into Asher’s face. It was rigid and lined with
relief, but he laughed a little at my question.
“How
could I miss that whopper of a clue you threw me? You made it very clear you
were going home alone last night.” He pulled me tighter against him. “Mister
Dreyfus came in this morning looking for you. Scott left what was basically a
suicide note blaming you for everything. When you didn’t show up for work…Well,
I just knew. My heart was in my throat all the way over here. I wouldn’t let
anyone from Tapestries come with me the first time.” He took a deep breath.
“I didn’t expect you to answer me when I called through your door.”
“You
thought you’d find me dead?”
He
bobbed his head, a barely perceptible nod acknowledging the unthinkable.
“You’re coming home with me today.”
Of
course, I had to go somewhere, with my apartment being a crime scene and
all. And I just didn’t want to deal with the fact that there was a freaking
dead body in my living room. Still, Asher had no right to make assumptions.
“I
think you better clear that with my parents first, Mister Pratt.”
He
glanced down at me and smiled. “Already done.”
“They
said yes?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“I
wasn’t taking no for an answer. And your father said he owed me one.”
I
sighed. Maybe going home with Asher was for the best. I had never been so
tired in my life. I needed some place where I could decompress and rest
without pressure and drama. That would not be my parents’ house. My mom would
be all weepy and touchy-feely, and my dad would be
up!”
In
the time it took me to lift my head and look out through the kitchen, the
police had kicked the door in.
Scott
stirred drunkenly and got a good grip on the gun. I shot to my feet and, legs
churning, headed toward the cop standing in the doorway.
I
don’t know what made me do it. I wish to God I hadn’t. As I was running, I
turned to look back at Scott.
He
was still on his knees. His gaze met mine. His eyes were moist, blank with
despair and anguish. I heard him whisper my name just before he put the end of
the pistol in his mouth and pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I
was surprised to see the crowd gathered outside my apartment. It had snowed
overnight, about three inches. Traffic had already churned the snow into an icy
brown slop. The sky was gray and leaden, like my soul at that moment.
A
dozen cop cars had the building surrounded. An ambulance sat behind them. My
parents were there, as well as Marybeth, Willow, Mr. Dreyfus, and Asher. I
hadn’t heard a thing inside.
The
wonderful hero cop who caught me as I sped toward my kitchen door had wrapped a
dark woolen blanket around me. I guess he thought I was cold. I was
shivering, but it was from an overload of adrenaline.
They
wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused. I just wanted my dad. I
broke down sobbing when they handed me off to him. He crushed me against his
chest and cried too.
Scott
was surely dead in my apartment. The grim looks on the faces of the cops told
me I was right. I heard them call for the coroner as the ambulance team
unloaded the gurney.
Poor
Mister Dreyfus was bone-white and shaking, smoking one cigarette right after
the other. They asked him to come inside to identify the body, but he just
stood frozen, a statue of grief, as smoke curled around him. It was a horrible
thing to ask a parent to do. I felt like I should say something to him, but I
couldn’t think of anything. It was beyond senseless. I’d simply gone to get a
pair of shorts from my car on that night so long ago, and now his son was
dead.
My
dad spun me around and placed me into Asher’s arms so he could interrogate the
police officer who’d brought me out of the building. It was the embrace of a
trusted friend.
“How
did you know?” I glanced up into Asher’s face. It was rigid and lined with
relief, but he laughed a little at my question.
“How
could I miss that whopper of a clue you threw me? You made it very clear you
were going home alone last night.” He pulled me tighter against him. “Mister
Dreyfus came in this morning looking for you. Scott left what was basically a
suicide note blaming you for everything. When you didn’t show up for work…Well,
I just knew. My heart was in my throat all the way over here. I wouldn’t let
anyone from Tapestries come with me the first time.” He took a deep breath.
“I didn’t expect you to answer me when I called through your door.”
“You
thought you’d find me dead?”
He
bobbed his head, a barely perceptible nod acknowledging the unthinkable.
“You’re coming home with me today.”
Of
course, I had to go somewhere, with my apartment being a crime scene and
all. And I just didn’t want to deal with the fact that there was a freaking
dead body in my living room. Still, Asher had no right to make assumptions.
“I
think you better clear that with my parents first, Mister Pratt.”
He
glanced down at me and smiled. “Already done.”
“They
said yes?” I couldn’t hide my surprise.
“I
wasn’t taking no for an answer. And your father said he owed me one.”
I
sighed. Maybe going home with Asher was for the best. I had never been so
tired in my life. I needed some place where I could decompress and rest
without pressure and drama. That would not be my parents’ house. My mom would
be all weepy and touchy-feely, and my dad would be
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