Tears began to well up in her eyes again and I couldn’t stop myself from taking her hand.
“Tira,” I whispered, waiting for her eyes to meet my own as I comforted her. “The S.O.B. that hurt him… he won’t touch Mason, or anyone else, ever again.”
She looked up at me and nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “The police told me the man who hurt him, the one who had taken Zem, was killed at the motel. Zem insists there weretwomen, but no one else saw anything,” she said, peering at me over her glasses as I stepped back, sudden consideration in her eyes. I couldn’t help but back away from her scrutiny.
Shit shit shit shitshit!I had to remember that this woman wasnotmy friend. And good god, I hoped she didn’t thinkIwas the other man!
She must have seen my reaction, either that or she read my mind. She waved dismissively at me.
“No, no, dear. The description Zem gave wasn’t great. She’s just a child after all, but she said the other man was short and fat.”
I almost laughed in relief. At least that much was clear, I was neither short, nor fat.
“Well, whoever shot him did everyone a favor, I guess,” she said, picking up Mason’s hand again. “And I don’t know how I could ever repay the favor Mason has done me by saving Zem, but I intend to try. My husband, rest his soul, never got to meet her, but I know he would want me to help this young man build a new life, if he’ll let me.”
A knock sounded at the door and panic swelled in my chest and blood drained from my face as I saw a man in grey dress pants and a light blue button down in the doorway. A badge hung at his belt and a revolver in a holster at his side.
“Tira? Am I interrupting?” The officer asked, his shrewd eyes glancing from her to me.
Fuck. I was so screwed.
“Detective Jarreau! Of course not! Please come in!” she said, waving him into the room.
The detective walked in and shook her hand, but never turned his back fully on me.
“It’s good to see you again, ma’am. And you are…?” he asked, turning to look at me, his eyes narrowing.
“I’m Lee, sir. I’m a medic who worked on Mason the night he was brought in,” I lied. Okay, so it wasn’t the whole truth, but it was close enough. His gaze held mine.
“What brings you here this evening, Detective?” Tira asked.
“Just thought I’d check in on our mystery man, ma’am. You know me and loose ends,” he said smiling, his eyes flitting toward me.
“Of course! Would you like some coffee, Detective? I was just going to step out to the cafeteria to get some,” she offered.
“That would be wonderful, if it’s not too much trouble?” he said.
Tira stood and excused herself, Detective Jarreau taking her vacated seat. For a few moments after she left, awkward silence filled the room.
“Lee, eh?” Jarreau finally asked as we sat together, Mason in the bed between us.
“Yes, sir,” I said, nodding, and struggling not to fidget, trying to figure out how I could escape.
“That’s odd… I don’t remember there being a ‘Lee’ listed on the EMS report,” he said, looking at me suspiciously. I just kept my mouth shut, for once.
“Okay,Lee,” he continued, “That young man there seems to be in some trouble,” he continued. I just nodded silently this time. “Maybe you can help clear some things up for me about that night?”
Oh, fuck.
“I… don’t know what else I can add that isn’t in the report…” I said, trying desperately not to show how nervous I was.
“Oh, maybe just a few details…” he said, reaching into a back pocket and pulling a small notepad and pen out. As he did so, his suit jacket fell back, again displaying his weapon, and giving him easy access to it. He flipped through the pages for a few minutes before speaking again.
“Did he say anything to you? Tell you anything about how he cameto be there, or why? Did he happen to mention who the man was he was with?” the detective asked, his questions coming rapid fire.
“No, sir. He wasn’t in much of a state to say, well, anything, when I got there,” I lied. “Um, other than his name, that is.”
“Right. His name. Weird that the other medics didn’t catch that. They usually write that down first thing. They brought him in as a John Doe,” Jarreau said, flipping through his notes.
