Although he’d repeated it three times, he said it now with no more inflection than he had the first time.
Under her breath, she began reciting Hail Marys.
She thought of her parents and the anguish this was going to cause them.
She choked on sobs at the thought of Andrew growing up without her. “I love you I love you. Mommy loves you. I didn’t do this. Please, God, let him know that I did not do this.
“Mitch, my love, tell Andrew,” she whispered. “Impress on our son how much I loved him. Make certain he understands that I didn’t abandon him. Oh, Mitch.I love you. I wouldn’t do this.” She sobbed and whispered his name again. “You’ll know that I didn’t. I know that you’ll know. I know that you’ll know. I know that you’ll know.”
Chapter 1
The jangle of his cell phone jarred John from a deep sleep and caused Beth to flinch. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He slid his arm from around her and reached for the phone on the nightstand. “This is Bowie.”
“Sir, it’s Officer Brad Clarence. I’m sorry to disturb you at this time of night.”
John checked the time. Actually it wasn’t that long until dawn. He paired a face with the name Clarence. The patrolman was young and green, but earnest and strived to do well. “What’s up?”
Clarence hesitated as though bracing to impart bad news. “It’s, uh, it’s Mitch Haskell, sir.”
Muttering an obscenity, John sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “What about him?”
“I got a disturbance call from a bar on Madison Street. Haskell was smashing up the place. One of the customers tried to calm him down, but Haskell was having none of it. When thebartender attempted to escort him out, it turned into an altercation. Haskell threw some punches, but none landed. Then he broke a liquor bottle against the bar and threatened the guy with what was left of the neck of it.
“It was gettin’ hairy, so one of the least drunk patrons called it in. By the time I got there, Haskell had passed out. He went down face first. Landed on the jagged glass he was holding. Cut his own self.”
“Bad?”
“Didn’t appear to be, but another inch and he could’ve slit his own throat.”
“So where is he now?”
“I brought him to the station. Took three of us to wrestle him into the drunk tank. When we tried to get some first aid on the cut on his neck, he put up a fight.”
“John?” By now Beth was fully awake and propped on her elbows, looking at him with concern.
He covered the phone with his hand. “It’s Mitch.”
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, yeah.” Her tone had been sorrowful. His, pissed.
He shared a lot of history with Mitch, who was a detective in the Crimes Against Persons unit, which John headed. Mitch was a decorated Marine special ops veteran, a former DEA undercover agent, and also John’s most trusted confidant, his go-to backup guy, and longtime best friend.
Clarence was asking John what he wanted to be done with him. “For now, leave him in the tank.”
“He’s being real… vocal.”
“Ignore him. Whatever he says, no matter how offensive, don’t respond, or he’ll just keep doing it. I’ll deal with him when I come in.”
“All right, sir.” The young cop hesitated, then said, “I’m awful sorry about this. I know y’all go way back. He didn’t give me a choice, sir.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
After disconnecting, John stayed as he was, tapping his phone against his chin, staring thoughtfully at the floor, until he felt Beth’s cool hand on his back.
For a moment, he let himself enjoy her comforting touch, then turned and took her hand, lifted it to his mouth, and kissed her palm. She asked what had happened, and he gave her a recap.
“Is he all right?”
