“Okay.”
And Carly hung up.
When she did, Harley started crying again. Damn. Carly’s phone call had only made things worse. She couldn’t pretend that yesterday hadn’t happened, that her twin brother wasn’t dead.
Pushing back the covers she went to the kitchen’s small cabinet and searched the bottles of OTC drugs, vitamins, andthe few bottles of prescription medications, but nothing in there indicated that Reilly had been taking Warfarin like she told the commander.
She staggered to a kitchen chair and sat. Why? Why had Warfarin shown up in the tox screen as being in his blood work?
She went downstairs to his room and went through his bathroom cabinet looking for anything that might have been hidden there and then in his bedroom nightstand but found nothing.
It’s a mistake, she told herself. It’s all a mistake. With that mantra beating in her head, a shivering Harley returned to her room and her bed. She needed to talk to Scottie. She knew if she could they would be able to figure this out together and everything would be alright.
And then her grief overwhelmed her, and she cried herself to sleep.
“Wake up, Dugan.”Mitchell’s booming voice jerked Scottie out of sleep. Blinking, he sat up from where he’d slumped over the table. What time had that been? In the wee hours of the morning? He rubbed his jaw and winced at its tightness.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Two in the afternoon.” Mitchell yanked his chair back. “Come on, stand up.”
“What’s going on?” Scottie slowly got to his feet. “Can I go home now?”
“Afraid not,” Mitchell said. “Internal Affairs is here to talk to you. He’s waiting for you in Commander Burns office. They thought it would be a better location than in here.”
Scotties eyes narrowed. “That’s awfully fast for them to come in don’t you think?”
“Not really,” Mitchel said. “I hate to break it to you like this, but Flynn died on the way to the hospital last night.”
Bile rose in Scottie’s throat, and his head swam at the man’s words. He grabbed the back of the chair to brace himself. “What?”
“You heard me. Flynn’s dead.”
“Shit.” Scotties knees gave way, and he sank into his chair again. “You’re shitting me, right?”
“Do you have an attorney?” Mitchell asked, ignoring his question.
“Do I need one?”
“You might.”
“As my union rep are you telling me to get one?” Scottie demanded, managing to get up again.
“If I were in your shoes…yes”
Disbelief clouded Scottie’s thoughts. “It looks that bad, huh?”
“What do you think?” Mitchell snorted. “Flynn died after your skate sliced the neck guard, cutting his neck..”
“But it was an accident, damn it!” Scottie protested.
“I believe you, but will Internal Affairs?”
“Shit,” Scottie repeated.
“And when they find out you were dating Flynn’s sister…”
Scottie grabbed Mitchell’s arm. “No one knows. We never told anyone because Reilly couldn’t stand me.”
