Red Nights - Shari J. Ryan Page 0,45

closed, to the point where I’m questioning whether or not he can actually see me. “Miss Stone?” he asks again.

“Yes,” I respond. I walk toward him, assuming he is who I think he is. My new attorney, clearly dressed—or not so much—for the part. Great.

He reaches his hand out to me. “I’m Attorney Dale Williams.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, subtly wiping my hand, now covered in sweat from his hand, on the back of my pants.

“I’d like to advise you to keep all of your answers short.” That’s it?

With only a two-minute wait, Mr. Williams and I are buzzed into another room and escorted into the small room I dreaded. I’m seated in a chair behind a black table. The woman says someone will be right with me. The door closes behind her, and I look around the space, finding nothing but a small mirror (two-way glass, most likely) and empty walls.

It’s cold in here. It makes me wonder what it’s like for someone who actually has committed a crime. Are they nervous? Do they feel remorse? Maybe this is the easy part for them. Maybe they knew they’d get caught and didn’t care. Maybe doing it was worth the risk.

It has to be at least ten minutes before the door opens. Detective Earnst with his stale eyes and flat expression walks in with a folder tucked under his arm. “Miss Stone. Thank you for coming down so quickly.” He reaches his hand out for me to shake. “Is this your attorney?” He eyeballs the loon next to me and then looks back to me.

I nod. I should answer. Say something. Try not to look guilty. “Yes, Sir.”

“Very well. I’m sorry we had to call you in like this, but since you were home during the time of the fire, I need to ask you some questions.” He sits down across from me—not the usual position the detectives on TV take. Maybe he’s trying to be amicable before he starts drilling me with uncomfortable questions. “From the statement you wrote at the hospital, I can see here you worked until eleven, came home, made yourself dinner and went to bed. Was there anything else you did between the time you came home and went to bed?”

I think about the night, trying to recall every detail. My life has always been so simplistic, orderly, and predictable.

Mr. Williams leans over and reminds me to keep it short and simple. Earnst rolls his eyes.

“I made some pasta with grilled chicken,” I tell him. “I ate my dinner over the kitchen counter, read my mail, and then…um…” I hesitate, just like I was trying not to do.

Detective Earnst catches this, of course. “Miss Stone? Is there something else?”

There is. And I remember it now.

CHAPTER TEN

THIS MAY BE ONE REASON not to show me where you live, I think.

I’ve rung the buzzer twice. Maybe he’s not home. I look down at my watch. It’s noon. I pull out my phone, thumbing over the letters, trying to configure words into a legible text.

“Hello?” the voice echoes through the speaker.

“Hayes?” My voice cracks. “It’s me, Felicity. Can I…” A buzz sounds from the door, followed by the clinking of metal as the lock releases. I pull the door open and jog up the stairs, finding the second-floor door open and Hayes waiting with worry in his eyes. I can’t say anything just yet. I run into him, needing his arms around me.

That’s what he does; he holds me. He doesn’t know why I need him right now, but it doesn’t matter. He places a kiss on the top of my head and leads me inside. “What’s going on?” he asks, his voice trembling a bit. Maybe he thinks I’m here to tell him I can’t do this—us. I’m not. I look up at him, letting him see the pain and fear in my eyes. “You’ve been crying.” He brushes his thumb under my eye, sweeping it away, giving me instant relief.

“Last night, you said I make your pain go away.”

He nods uneasily. “Yeah, I did.”

“You make me forget mine too,” I say, nearly in tears.

I can’t help losing focus as he lowers his forehead against mine, forcing our noses to feather against one another’s. My senses jump into overdrive as the mint on his breath both cools and warms my lips at the same time. God, what is he doing to me? He drops his hands to my waist, lifting me up until my legs loop