Page 22 of Dropping Like Flies

“We danced together,” Rupert said, his voice sounding distant, like he was back there reliving it. “He was a good dancer. Better than me.”

I certainly couldn’t take that one to the DCS. Good news, Baros. We need to put out an APB on a man with no physical description, but who knows how to throw a few shapes.

“Taller than me,” Rupert said. I didn’t ask how tall Rupert was. I could find that out later. “Brown hair.” I sat up straighter. Now we were getting somewhere. “Blue eyes… I think.”

“You think?”

“It’s fuzzy. What did he do to me? You said he attacked me. With what? Why don’t I remember? Do I have a head injury?”

“Shhhh.” That was Griffin, his voice surprisingly soothing. “Try not to get upset.” His glance to me said to wrap it up. I just wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do that when this was our best chance of making sure that what had happened to Rupert wouldn’t happen to anyone else.

“You’re doing great, Rupert,” I assured him. “Just try to remember a little more if you can. How was he dressed? Did he have an accent? Did he tell you his name?”

A pained expression settled on Rupert’s face. It seemed more of a mental pain than a physical one, his catastrophic injuries not seeming to register. “I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” He made as if to get up, Griffin pushing him back again. “I don’t feel well. My vision is blurry, and it hurts to breathe. Is the ambulance here yet?”

A nod from Griffin confirmed my worst fears, that Rupert was already slipping away. Something heavy settled in my gut as I sat back on my heels. I didn’t end the recording on my phone yet. There was always the chance he’d say more.

“Has anyone called my mum?” Rupert asked, his voice thin and reedy. “She’s always telling me to be careful when I go out. I’m going to get such a lecture from her.”

“Not yet,” Griffin said. “If I speak to her, is there anything you want me to say to her?”

Shit! I knew what he was doing, and I knew why, but that didn’t make it any easier to listen to. I could get up and I could walk away now that my part in this was over, but that hardly seemed fair. Griffin might not have said a lot while I’d questioned Rupert, but him being there had helped.

Rupert smiled fondly. “Tell her I’m sorry for getting in trouble. That she was right when she said I should have given Ivan another chance, but that I was too stubborn to do that.” I assumed Ivan was an ex. “Tell her I love her and that she shouldn’t get too annoyed with me.” He gave a pained laugh. “It probably won’t work, but it’s worth a try. Maybe tell her she has to be nice to me for a couple of weeks.” His voice trailed off and his eyelids flickered shut, his breathing slowing. Bile forced its way up my throat, and I realized how lucky I’d been to never have to witness any of my murder victims dying before. Well, that luck had just run out.

“Does he just go?” I asked.

Griffin nodded. “It happens fairly quickly.”

“I’d hold his hand,” I said, “but…”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, there was no noise save for Rupert’s breath rattling in his chest. Then his eyes popped open. “Sage,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” I leaned over him, hope sparking in my chest. “Was that his name? The man that attacked you… is that the name he gave you?”

Nothing. He’d already gone, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached over and stopped my phone from recording. Griffin was already blowing out the candles and collecting them as I rose less than steadily to my feet. “I’ll meet you outside,” I said. “I need some fresh air.”

I got halfway across the room before Patrick blocked my path, his eyes narrowed. “I hope you’re happy now.”

My hands curled into fists at my side and I allowed myself the momentary fantasy of drawing my hand back and punching him in the face. Anyone else I might have taken that comment from. But he’d been in the room during the entire thing. He’d witnessed it. He’d seen how fucking awful it had been. Therefore, he deserved a smack in the face. Cold clarity came with the thought of the suspension that would follow if I gave in to my base instincts. Not to mention the psych assessments I’d have to undergo before my return to work. The case would be assigned to someone else, and it wouldn’t exactly pave the way for any future promotion prospects. It might even lead to a demotion. Yeah, as satisfying as it might be in the moment, it wasn’t worth it. “No, I’m not happy,” I ground out. “Not even slightly, so get the fuck out of my way unless you have something helpful to say about the case.”

Reacting, either to what I’d said or the look in my eyes, Patrick stepped aside. After that, the trip to my car was nothing but a blur, any conversations I might have had on the way occurring on auto-pilot. It surprised me when I reached the Toyota to find Griffin had followed. He climbed into the passenger seat as I got behind the wheel.

Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, considering I’d been the one to drive him here. But my current disposition was such that I suspected most people would choose to be stranded at a crime scene over traveling with me. But then Griffin wasn’t most people. He knew me like no one else knew me. Knew me and had rejected me, anyway.

Chapter Nine

Griffin

“I’ll drive,” I said when Ben did nothing but stare into space.

“I’m fine.”

I gave his shoulder a little shove, the action enough to have him doing what I’d said and swapping places with me. Once I was in the driver’s seat and I’d checked Ben was with it enough to have fastened his seatbelt, I started the car.

We’d gone a few blocks before Ben spoke, his voice sounding as weary as I’d ever heard it. “Don’t you want to know my address?”

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