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“Help me out.”
It takes both of us to move the door enough for me to get through. My eyes go immediately to the body on the other side of the door. A man, dead, without question. A gaping hole in the side of his head and the blood and brain matter everywhere tells me so. The gun laying beside his hand tells the tale.
Mancuso prods my back to get out of his way, as I scan the rest of the room, looking for Dana.
I find her in the shower stall, pressed into the corner on the floor, almost curled into a ball.
She’s covered in blood.
I drop down on my knees beside her, not sure if the blood is hers or not.
“Dana, baby…”
When she lifts her head, her eyes are haunted.
“He shot himself.”
Chapter 31
Rick
* * *
“How is Dana doing?”
Mancuso doesn’t realize what a loaded question that is.
“She’s okay.”
It’s a knee-jerk response intended to brush off a friendly inquiry, when the truth is, I don’t know how she’s doing. Not really.
It wasn’t that long ago she lost her mother quite suddenly. Then she was dragged into what was supposed to be a simple murder investigation but turned out to be an elaborate development fraud, blackmail, and wide-spread corruption tainting her hometown and people she cared about. Finally, as some kind of sick cherry on top, her mentor and friend blew his brains out in front of her. Any one of those things would be enough to bring someone to their knees, let alone having it all happen concurrently.
Calling her okay might be a bit of a stretch.
Then somewhere in there, she and I happened as well. Circumstances forced us to skip some basic new relationship steps, like getting to know each other, sharing some of our background and history, and maybe discussing our respective hopes and dreams. We dealt with most of that on the fly, not over quiet meals or on casual dates. We’ve been living in close quarters for quite a while now, and I haven’t even taken her out for a proper dinner yet.
She deserves that, dates and dinners with a man whose entire focus is her. Who makes her feel valued. Special. Loved.
That’s why I didn’t want to take the cheap way out when she shared her feelings, by saying “me too.” When I tell her I love her, I want her to know my words aren’t simply an echo of hers but intentional and honest.
There hasn’t been a good time yet, with the town still reeling from the deaths of two of its well-known, and one well-loved, citizens. With this still being an active investigation, and to avoid compromising it, we’ve stayed mum on most of the details of this case, which means the gossip mill has been working overtime. People come up with wild scenarios and are eager to share them, or are persistent to find out more.
It’s tough, especially for Dana, who is constantly bombarded with questions, and now I feel she’s started to withdraw, even from me.
“Well, she can certainly breathe a little better after today, I hope,” Mancuso shares.
I lean back in my desk chair and lift my arm to support my head. The only other person in the bullpen right now is Deputy Kim Torres, who is finishing up her paperwork for the day.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Two days ago, Mexican authorities found Missy Gentry at an all-inclusive resort in Playa Del Carmen under an assumed name,” he starts. “She was escorted back to Spokane, where we have been questioning her. She needed a little convincing, but she’s been very helpful.”
That’s good news indeed.
Even though Edward Wilson’s confession to Dana gave us a clear connection to Arlo Hudson, it may not be enough for a judge, who could interpret the information as hearsay and rule to have it excluded from evidence.
Very convenient for Hudson that both Merrick and Wilson are dead and no longer able to give testimony to his role in this case. So it’s great to have someone else who might be able to attest to the man’s involvement.
