Page 51 of Crawl
“If you’re suggesting someone specific, then please be clear, Detective,” I say, unable to hide the agitation in my voice. Am I actually defending her?
“Not at all. But we are checking every outlet. And the only common thread between the victims is the connection to your work.”
My throat tightens. I don’t care about what he thinks. All I have to do is leave Key West and never look back.
But I keep thinking about what he said:Your personal assistant may be a suspect.
It’s coming together, and for some stupid reason, I want to protect her.
No. I don’t want to takeresponsibilityfor my actions. So why can’t I shift the blame?
“We’d like to get in touch with your workforce,” the detective says, interrupting my thoughts. “Could you direct the contractors to the station?”
I grit my teeth but force the words out: “Absolutely. Someone has to have seen something.”
“That’s the hope,” he says.
We shake hands, our eye contact level. I’m not ready to let this go.
“There’s a lot of pressure to crack this case, isn’t there, Detective?” I ask.
“Of course,” he says. “Murder frightens everyone.”
“It would be a shame if this case changed the department’s belief in your abilities.”
His eyes scan me, wary for a moment. That’s it, then. Heneedsthis case, or he’s risking his job.
“I have faith in our department, Mr. Winstone,” he says, his jaw straining. “But thank you for your time today.”
“Of course.”
I escort him out of the estate, then check on Remedy. Standing in the hallway, she doesn’t see me. Rock music blasts from her earbuds as she types rapidly on her laptop. The sun shines from the bedroom windows, her deep orange cheeks tinted into a reddish hue, like a sunset washing over her skin. She’s so damn beautiful, and yet I know that this moment is brief. Once the sun shifts, that light will be gone. Nothing is permanent. Time is always moving.
Staying in Key West means Remedy. Seeing her come apart. The way she turns into a beast when she comes. The passion and rage in her eyes when she lets herself go.
But staying also means my death in so many ways. Not just getting arrested.
Bones’s new collar dings down the hallway, her random reappearance breaking me from my inner struggle. The cat survived on her own before. I can find her a new home, or let her roam freely again, and either way, she’ll be all right.
But Remedy? If I don’t frame her, if I don’t do anythingtoorforher again, will she ever be truly free?
I stomp down the hallway, then descend to the ground level, finding my office. The urge to close my door so she can’t come inside grows within me, but I force myself to stay at my desk, to work on the spreadsheets, to return phone calls, to send the emails notifying the contractors of what they’re supposed to do. I can’t let Remedy affect me like this, and if I shut her out now, that means she’s getting to me.
By the time my blood cools, Remedy appears in the doorway.
“I’m off now,” she says.
Her purple lips fill my vision and I don’t think about what I’m about to do or say.
“Come sit with me,” I demand.
A hesitant, nervous smile crosses her face, but she perches herself on the sofa to the side of the desk. Piles of newspaper lay in heaps on the floor underneath each open window. The sun shines into the room, making it brighter. And for once, Remedy doesn’t wrap her arms around her body, protecting herself. She relaxes her shoulders, sinking into the comfort of the light. And that expressionstayswith her as she focuses onme.
I don’t make her nervous anymore. Not like that.
I clench my jaw. This is wrong. All of it.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks. Instead of answering, I wait, letting her stew. Silence is one of the last forms of power I have over her, and I intend to make it painful. Finally, the discomfort gets to her, and she continues: “Would it be okay if I brought Jenna here?” She tilts her head and laughs. “Maybe closure will be good for her. I don’t know. I’m just trying to help her. I’ve been such an awful friend lately. And this is what she wants, so…”
