“I actually didn’t give him breaths during the last round because I thought I saw blood in his mouth.”
“Blood?” Charlie asked, as if he hadn’t been aware of the thin trail we’d noticed at the edge of Brett’s mouth. “Why do you think he might’ve been bleeding?”
Mina bit her lip, taking the question as seriously as if she were a medical expert weighing in. “I would guess that he bit his tongue when he fell to the ground. Or maybe he hadn’t been choking—or at least, not just choking. Maybe something else was wrong with him?”
Charlie nodded and recorded what she’d said, which matched what we’d observed of the body. “Are you certified in CPR?”
“Yes—or, no, not officially, but I learned by watching videos when Grammy was diagnosed.”
“You thought you might need it for her… cancer?” Charlie asked. I hated that he sounded skeptical, and I hoped Mina wasn’t picking up on it.
“No. I mean, she has ovarian cancer, and as soon as she was diagnosed, I read every article I could on it. The list of complications from the treatment is almost as scary as the diagnosis. I can’t control much in this whole process, but I can know how to do a few helpful things. Or, at least, I thought I could while she was still undergoing treatment.”
I’d done something similar when Momma was diagnosed, and I was picking up everything Mina was putting down, being reminded again of the same sense of powerlessness that I was certain she now felt. The knowledge that the end was coming for my momma had carved a hole in my chest that would never quite mend. Mina was on her own journey of loss, and I couldn’t even help her, except perhaps in one way.
“I think that’s enough for now,” I said. I stood and shot Charlie a look.
His gaze met mine. “One more thing. When you were here with your grandmother and later for the filming, did you ever see Brett interacting with any of the people here tonight?”
Mina considered the question. “When we were here for the home episode, he spoke to Presley, of course. She was on theshow,” she clarified, which was probably a good thing since Charlie wasn’t the reality TV type. “And Joe. He was here that weekend as well.” She bit her lip and looked to the ceiling. “Other than that, I don’t think so. You could look back at the credits to know for sure.”
Charlie recorded the info in his notebook. Joe’s name stuck in my mind, specifically because of how he’d called Brett a son of a bitch at the bar earlier that evening. His tone hadn’t been admiring, as in “that lucky son of a bitch.” No, it had definitely been frustrated, perhaps envious, but not light-hearted. It couldn’t go unnoticed either that Joe had been the one making drinks, which Brett had potentially choked on.
Mina’s phone rang, and I saw that the caller wasRichmond Methodist Medical.
“You should take it,” I said.
Charlie and the deputy both nodded in agreement.
“Am I dismissed?” I asked, as Mina moved to the corner for a moment of privacy.
Charlie gave me a curt nod. “I need to address the crowd. I’ll see you back in the ballroom.”
I wanted to do the exact opposite of whatever he wanted. I suddenly had the urge to grab my keys, get in my car, and drive off into the night. Yes, this was an immature and ridiculous impulse, but I was over this night and this weekend and this season of life when decisions needed to be made about what came next. All I wanted was to run away.
Charlie’s eyes caught mine, asking a silent question. He wanted me there, despite everything.
“See you in there,” I said.
TEN
“Was that the doctor calling?” I asked Mina, as I found her in the hallway outside of the den, heading back toward the ballroom. I tried to keep my tone low enough that no one else could hear if they passed us.
With one hand, Mina worried at the bottom of her striped shirt, now untucked from her wide-legged jeans. She’d wiped under her eyes, and her makeup had rubbed off. Her face was slightly puffy, and her eyes red. “No, it was Grammy calling from her hospital room. She told me not to worry and that she’s feeling fine and turning in for the night.” She sniffled but tried for a slight smile. “Not that I believe her, but it was good to hear her voice.”
“Did you tell her what’s happening here?”
“Briefly.” Mina’s head swiveled to Charlie and the deputy several yards in our wake. “I told her that Brett Brinkley died and that the police are questioning witnesses, but I didn’t tell her that I might be a suspect.”
“I don’t think that’s what Char—or the sheriff—intended,” I said, hoping I was right. “If that was the case, he might think I’m a suspect too.”
Her eyes met mine as we neared the ballroom, and I could tell that she’d caught on to me almost calling the sheriff by his first name. “You two seem… close?”
I didn’t confirm or deny the statement.
Mina didn’t seem to want to pry. “Well, you were the first one who tried to help, which has to count for something.”
I thought that fact should matter too, but I wasn’t sure that it would when it came to Charlie’s investigating rules of conduct. He had put my aunt behind bars, after all.
