Page 135 of An Inconvenient Marriage
My father. The monster of my nightmares was dead. I should’ve felt something other than the numbness inside me.
Even when one officer crouched, pointed at something near his head, and muttered the words, “murder weapon,” I felt nothing.
No sadness.
No relief.
Nothing.
“And Jack?”
Officer Cambrook’s attention drifted toward the door. “If you’re talking about the big guy. We caught him running out of the building just as we pulled up. He’s in the back of my squad car.”
“Oh.”
More commotion from the door drew my attention that way just in time to see three EMTs rushing toward us.
One knelt at my side. “Is any of this blood yours?”
“I don’t think so.” My voice sounded so hollow and emotionless, I barely recognized it as my own.
“Ma’am, can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
I blinked slowly and aimed a finger at my neck.
The EMT looked at the female officer who had already gotten to her feet when they’d arrived. “I think she’s in shock. Let’s get her to the emergency room where her injuries can be properly assessed.”
The next few hours felt like days, years even.
The ambulance took me to the emergency room, and after the doctor gave me the okay—well, as okay as you can be after apparently being strangled—I was taken to a private room where Officer Cambrook took my statement.
“Is this really necessary?” I asked after I’d gone over everything I remembered for what felt like the tenth time already.
She scribbled in her notepad, and her gaze flicked to me. “I’m sorry. I know this is hard, but it’s crucial to get as much information as possible at the start of an investigation.”
My tongue slipped over my dry lips. “I’ve already told you everything I remember. Multiple times.”
“I understand. But your husband plunged a letter opener into your father’s neck, and we need to determine if it was self-defense or something more ominous.”
He wasn’t my anything, but she wasn’t the one who needed to hear it. So I simply nodded and said, “I know you’re just doing your job but I’ve given you as much as I can.”
“All right.” She closed her notepad and stuck it into the pocket of her blazer. “You have my number. If anything else comes up, please call.”
With that, she turned and finally gave me some peace and quiet.
Or so I thought.
The moment the door clicked shut, something inside my brain snapped. Horrible, horrible images played out in front of me like a movie stuck on a loop.
Zach’s cruel words.
The way he’d gone ballistic and drove his fists into my father.
The sound the bat made when it slammed into Zach.
And finally, the look in my father’s eyes when he’d wrapped his hands around my throat. Cold and filled with so much hatred.
My hand went to my neck, and a broken sob tore from my lungs. Then another and another until my entire body shook. I cried and cried until I couldn’t possibly produce any more tears.
