“Don’t be scared,” she said again. “I’m right here.”
Her tears felt like the steady trickle of the water that passed from an upper shady spot at Mytoi Japanese Garden on Chappy, down to a lower pond. Slowly, methodically, never-ending.
She was grateful that the EMT didn’t scold her for jumping up the way she had, for bothering the driver who was focused on the road.
John looked back through the window. “How about if I call my dad and ask for Francine’s number? He’ll have it, won’t he?”
But Annie’s brain had become fuzzy again, and she was having trouble trying to process if that would work. Then she remembered she could not control every outcome of every situation; that she could not always protect those she’d grown to love. John, however, had offered to help. If nothing else, she knew she could trust him. So Annie nodded, because it was easier than speaking again.
Then the ambulance made a sharp right turn. Annie grasped her seat; she knew it meant that they were now on County Road. And that it wouldn’t be much longer before they reached MV Hospital. God knew she’d done this before.
If there was one thing Kevin hated it was a bumpy ride. This one was a beaut. Whoever was driving was going too fast and hitting every bump in the damn road. Not to mention that he kept seeing bursts of light. And something was squeezing his shoulder and he felt like he was being squished and he couldn’t see anything.
It reminded him of the Fourth of July when he’d been five and he’d gone with his mother to the fireworks on the Esplanade on the Charles River where the Boston Pops was playing what he later learned was the1812 Overture. He’d been scared then. He was too short to see over the heads of the people, so he couldn’t tell what was going on. And people kept bumping into him, stepping on his feet, and the music kept booming, hurting his ears, but he didn’t want to cry because he wasn’t a baby.
Besides, his mother was having a good time. Taking his hand in hers, she said, “Kevin, are you okay? Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”
He heard those words again now, over and over, in what sounded a lot like his mother’s voice. He felt her hand in his. And he wasn’t scared anymore. Because she was there.
Chapter 24
“Ineed to take your statement.” John had joined Annie in the waiting room, where she’d sat too many times over the past couple of years. This time was the most difficult. He was her brother, after all, her last remaining blood relative. Her true family.
She flinched. “Is that why you rode in the ambulance? Not to be here for me, but to do your duty?”
His gray eyes became quizzical, as if he did not understand. “No,” he said. “I mean, I came for . . . both.”
Annie nodded, wishing she could fully believe him. She looked around at the smattering of people in the room. “Where’s Simon?”
“At the station. Linc took him in for questioning.” “Linc” was John’s friend Detective Lincoln Butterfield.
She nodded again. Now that her tears had stopped, she wished she could feel something other than . . . numb. “Go ahead. Ask what you need to. Get it over with so I can go back to praying for my brother.”
He angled his body so he was facing her, his muscular frame bulkier in his uniform with the walkie-talkie on his shoulder, his belt, his badge, his gun, and, she speculated, a bulletproof vest under his short-sleeved shirt. She remembered him once saying that he always, always wore one when he was on duty.He must be hot in that, she thought, then realized it was no longer her place to worry about his comfort, not while he was “taking a break.” From her.
She tried not to take it personally that he’d left one seat between them. Or that the distance felt as wide as the gap from the Vineyard to Hawaii, where she’d have to call at some point. To tell Taylor.
Pulling a pad and pen from his pocket, John drilled his eyes onto the paper, not on her, as he began.
“Why was Simon Anderson in your cottage?”
Well, that was a loaded question. Especially since chances were, he would have preferred to ask, “Why was Simon Anderson in yourbedroom?” Did he expect her to say, “Since you ditched me, I’ve been sleeping with him”?
“He was renting it from us. All our other rooms were occupied.” As soon as the words sprung from her mouth, Annie wondered if that was against the law, if the zoning board permit only allowed the rooms inside the Inn itself to be rented. If she’d thought of that earlier, she could have stopped Simon from coming, and what happened tonight would not have happened.
Her hands felt clammy, as if she’d been digging for quahogs with Lucy.Lucy!She suddenly remembered. Lucy was going to be upset. More than once, she’d said Kevin was theabsolute best. Annie stared at the floor.
“Okay,” John continued, “then why, if Simon was a guest at the Inn, were you in the cottage with him?”
At least he hadn’t mentioned a permit for rentals. It wasn’t like him to forget those kinds of details. Maybe he was anxious being next to her. Or maybe he planned to ask her that later. Like when they weren’t sitting in the hospital waiting room.
Still, he had asked a perfectly understandable question. Annie supposed if she could think straight, she might be able to come up with an answer that might help her evade the truth. But she could not.
So, moving her gaze from the floor up to her lap, she said, “I needed to get something of mine. Simon wasn’t there. I went in anyway. Then he surprised me.”
“You went into a guest’s room when the guest wasn’t there? And you weren’t there to do . . . housekeeping? Or due to an emergency?”
“That’s correct. If you want to get technical, I had no right to be there. Except that it’s my home.”
