Daddy's Little Killer

Chapter 34

Chapter 34 

 

Since my question was rhetorical and followed quickly by an uncontrollable bout of hyperventilation, instead of sticking around for an answer, I ran out of the interview room. Straight into Charlie Haverston.

"Who is Rick?"

"My murdered ex-husband." Damage control. Shit. "It was the one thing that made me amenable to leaving the FBI and coming here." 

The instant and very plausible cover story popped into my head. "Oh my God. If Orion's right, Rick's murder might've been..."

"You don't know that. You don't know that he said a single thing that was true, Helen. Orion could've lied through his teeth."

"He wasn't lying this time."

"You know this for a fact?"

"Let me rephrase. Orion didn't tell me everything, but he told me what he knows about this case, about why he was hanging around Gwen's house all the time. It fits with everything else we've learned."

"Then I should release him?"

No, Orion knew more about Rick than he should've, and until I could figure out how that was possible, other than the far fetched theory I proposed knowing full well it wasn't true, Orion was best kept out of my hair. "Hold him. He's interfered and withheld information that was vital to this case. Throw him back in a cell downstairs."

"Where are you going?"

"I need to take a break."

"You should be resting." Charlie pulled out his phone and dialed a number. "Dr. Winslow? It's time."

"You already talked to her?"

He snapped the phone shut and nodded. "Don't argue. It's not like you could stand hitting the streets in the search for Candy Blevins, Helen. Go home with Dr. Winslow and get some rest. I'll call you if anything breaks."

It seemed like Maya arrived before Charlie finished his mini lecture on the need for a second night of uninterrupted sleep. Before I could protest, she locked her arm in mine. 

"You look like death warmed over. I thought you were told to take it easy, Helen."

Charlie was a traitor. Apparently he neglected to give me the message in favor of not tipping his hand. "Missed that part of the conversation where you were brought into this conspiracy on my health."

"We're going home, and you're going straight to bed."

"I can walk, Maya. If you want to be helpful, carry my bag." The laptop made my shoulder feel like the joint was starting to separate. 

"You'll feel better in the morning," she slipped the bag over her shoulder and waved to Charlie.

After a cup of Sleepy Time tea, my memory became as vague as it had been last night. I don't think I moved for eight solid hours. Maya was still sleeping when I woke. The red light on the department cell phone that Charlie supplied was flashing. I retrieved the voicemail, something happened, he'd fill me in this morning.

Great. Part of my lie to Orion suddenly felt like prophecy. I was being cut out of my own case due to a perceived weakness I hadn't caused. Coffee withdrawal was probably the culprit last night, and the inevitable letdown of adrenalin. They had conspired to keep me away from coffee after it had been wrongly blamed for my sleep-deprived condition.

The aroma of bean should've been enough to rouse Maya. Then I'd grill her like Pacific swordfish until she caved and told me what happened while I was sleeping. It was a fine plan, really, and probably would've worked if she had been home. Her bed was made. The morning paper lay in the dewy grass. She hadn't been home for hours.