Now he looked worried. “Be that as it may, as your attorney, I can assure you every word said in this room stays between us.”
I groaned. That was exactlywhat I was afraid of. “I don’t want it to be between us. I don’t want you to know.”
His brow furrowed. “You didn’t kill him, so just tell me why there’s blood all over your bathroom.”
“I’d honestly rather get the chair.”
He stiffened. “Not funny, Dylan. And here in Oregon, we use lethal injection.”
I hung my head, unable to even look at him. “It’s my blood.”
“What?” He stood. “Are you hurt?Did something happen to you?”
“No.” I swallowed, hoping he’d get the hint.
The look on his face told me he didn’t.
Sighing, I added, “It’s not that kind of blood.”
“Not that kind of... oh. Oh! How the hell did... uh. Jake said there was a significant amount of blood and... uh.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked away.
He wanted an explanation? Apparently I wasn’t good enough for lethalinjection so I’d just have to die slowly of humiliation. “Let me just preface this conversation by reminding you how much I care about the environment.”
He faced me again, and his eyebrows were halfway up his forehead.
Desperate to save face, I plunged ahead. “Feminine products stay in landfills forever and... and there’s this new environmentally-friendly blood bucket I was reading about online,and—”
“Blood bucket?” Asher blanched.
“That’s not the real title. It’s something way more fem, but blood bucket is fitting, trust me. Especially when you’re drunk and trying to remove it for the first time ever, and there’s no string or anything and—”
“Okay I’ve heard enough.”
“Oh, thank God.” I collapsed back in the chair and buried my head in my hands. “Let’s never speak of this again.”
“Since I’m confident the tests will corroborate your story, I can make you that deal.” He grabbed his briefcase from the floor and set it on top of the table. He removed a couple of prints and put them down in front of me.
Thankful to be done with the subject of my bathroom bloodbath, I scooted forward so I could see. “I can’t believe he’s dead. I mean sure, the guy was a douchebag, but I didn’twant him dead. I just can’t figure out why he was in my apartment building. As far as I know, Kirk didn’t even know where I live, which is how I was able to sleep nights.”
“Well we’re going to figure that out and make sure you get cleared of all charges. We need to work on your defense, so pretend I’m a jury of your peers and tell me why I should believe you didn’t kill this man.”
I studiedthe crime scene photos, glossing over Kirk’s lifeless eyes, the way his body was leaning, and the knife sticking out of his chest.
“Son of a ... thatismy knife.” And it bugged the heck out of me. “What kind of idiot would stab someone in the chest with a fat meat cleaver?”
“Not the weapon you’d use?” Asher asked.
I shook my head. “No way.”
“Why?”
I took a deep breath, wondering how muchI could tell Asher without sounding like a total psychopath.
“Dylan?” he asked, watching me.
I expelled the oxygen from my lungs, blowing my bangs into the air. “Keep in mind that when he’s not drunk, my dad is a decent butcher.”
“Right.”
