I shrugged. “I don’t know how to answer that, to be honest,” I said listlessly.
“I understand. It’s a real shock to the system.”
“Yeah.” I glanced at her, knitting my brows. “What are you doing here?” I asked. Before she could respond, I shook my head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude. I just didn’t expect to see you,” I added.
She smiled faintly again. “It’s okay, you sounded fine. I know it’s not exactly my jurisdiction, but when your name suddenly popped up on my computer in connection with a shooting at an Ashwood residence, I headed down here as fast as I could.”
“Oh.” I looked ahead of me as I warmed my hands on the side of the mug. Someone was snapping photographs of the bullet I shot into the skylight earlier. Even though it wasn’t all that long ago, it somehow felt like a strange, distant memory.
It all did, come to think of it. It was like my brain simply refused to accept that such a terrible incident had actually happened today, only a few feet away.
“What were you doing out here?” Beck asked. “Before this happened.”
“Well, as you know, Mason and I are friends. I came to visit.”
She scooted a little closer. “It’s a long way to drive just to catch up with a friend,” she said. Her voice was low, but she didn’t sound overly suspicious. More concerned than anything else.
“I guess.” I looked away, back toward the pool of blood.
“We were just discussing Mason this morning during your interview. Is that a coincidence?”
I let out an exhausted sigh. “Yes. I mostly came to visit so I could collect some stuff for my fish tank back in the city. I accidentally left some of it here,” I said, pointing to the other side of the living room. The large aquarium Mason had set up for Buddy a few weeks ago was still sitting there.
“I see. Sorry, Jolie, I’m just trying to understand all of this. I was only speaking to you about Mason a few hours ago, and the next thing I know, you’re out here at his vacation house and he’s been shot.”
“It’s fine. I get it,” I said. I flashed her a weak smile. “I bet you feel pretty silly right now, huh?”
She arched a brow. “Why do you say that?”
I gestured over to Tom’s body, which was currently being loaded onto a gurney by two beefy men for transport to the morgue. “Because you were wrong. You thought there was no way any of the men from the Path of the Covenant could still be alive.”
She hesitated. “Well, we still don’t know anything for sure.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We don’t know if that was actually Tom Anderson,” she said, nodding toward the gurney as one of the guys zipped up the enormous black and white body bag they’d strapped to it. “His face was basically destroyed in the altercation, and that makes identification very difficult. He’s never been arrested before, either, so his fingerprints aren’t in the system. We’ll have to identify him through DNA instead, via a close relative, and that could take a few weeks.”
“I told you it was Tom,” I said flatly. “Why isn’t my word enough?”
Beck patted my shoulder. “It’s not that it isn’t enough. It’s just that there’s protocol to follow. It doesn’t matter how much we believe you. We still need to know beyond a shadow of doubt who the body belongs to.”
“Right.” I looked over at the spot where Tom had lain until a few seconds ago. All that was left now was another pool of dark blood with a few grisly bits and pieces floating here and there. “Will Mason get in trouble for what he did?”
Beck rubbed her chin. “From what you said to the officer who spoke to you before, it sounds like he was trying to defend you, right?”
I nodded vehemently. “Yes. Tom was about to shoot me and kidnap me for my father. Mason jumped in front of the gun and tackled him to the floor. Tom tried to fight him off, but Mason overpowered him, even with the bullet lodged in his gut.”
“Well, given that fact, I think he’ll be okay. All the head-smashing might’ve been a bit of overkill, but I doubt he’ll catch any charges in the end. Especially once we confirm that man really was Tom from the old cult, and he was here to either kidnap or kill you.”
My shoulders slumped with relief. If Mason survived his injuries, the last thing he needed was to get carted off to jail for simply saving my life.
“I do have some other questions for you, though,” Beck continued. “In regard to Mason.”
“What?”
“When I arrived, I had a quick look around here with some of the local officers.”
My heart sank. “Oh,” I said lightly. I had a feeling I already knew what she was going to say.