Declan gingerly hugged her as Jacy sat partway up. She immediately laid back down as though the movement exhausted her. By her pale skin and the slight tremble in her hands, I suspected the effort did indeed wear her out.
I bent to kiss her. “Hi.”
She smiled. “Hi.”
“Don’t scare us like that again.” I rubbed her nose with mine. “My heart can’t take it.”
“Are you getting better, Mom?”
I lifted Declan so he could sit on the edge of her bed and hold her hand.
“Yeah, I’m much better. I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too. How’s Peter and Wendy?”
I studied her face as Declan regaled Jacy with stories of what the kittens had done lately, showed her the faint scratch on his hand from Pete’s enthusiastic playing. Jacy kissed it, chuckling weakly, as I sat in the room’s only visitor’s chair. I rolled the question I desperately wanted to ask within my mind, wondering how I’d ask it with Declan right there.
A knock on the door interrupted both my thoughts and cat stories. A dude in a business suit and tie poked his head around the door’s edge.A cop. He’s gotta be.
“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said, stepping in as though invited. “I’m Detective Truman Jenkins. You’re Ms. Maxwell?”
“I don’t think she’s up for any questions,” I said, standing.
He eyed me with amusement. “And you are?”
“Her boyfriend.”
“Ah. Then you were at the scene of the shooting last night. I have questions for you as well.”
He sat comfortably in the chair I’d just vacated and smiled at Declan. “Hi, there.”
“Hi.”
As Declan didn’t shy from him, I guessed Jenkins was an okay guy, even if he was rude and pushy. “I won’t take up much time. You’re Avery Armstrong?”
“Yeah. My son, Declan.”
He gravely shook Declan’s hand. “Did either of you happen to see the vehicle the shooter was in?”
“I didn’t see it at all,” I replied. “Jacy yelled ‘get down’ and pushed me further into the car. I was buckling Declan into his car seat at that moment.”
“Ms. Maxell?”
“No,” she said softly. “All I saw was the gun. The rifle.”
“You’re sure it was a rifle?”
“Long barrel. The light reflected off of it.”
Jenkins nodded thoughtfully. “A waitress at the restaurant said she saw a dark gray or blue Chevy truck parked there, the silhouette of a man inside, when she went on her smoke break. She thought it odd that he was still there when she went on another smoke break.”
“How much time between breaks?” I asked, frowning.
“More than an hour.” He glanced between Jacy and me. “How long were you in there?”
“Close to two hours.”
