Page 89 of In the Danger Zone
“Stop calling me dumb!” I threw my hands up. “Look, Daisy told me that her parents were struggling to get by with rent. That their bakery was barely scraping by. I gave her money. I wanted to help her and her family.”
Murph shook his head. “And?”
“And that bakery has been closed the whole time. Daisy admitted it. That she lied. And she took that damn money from me. I gave it to her so I’d be able to help. That was what I wanted: to help her family out,” I explained, my voice getting louder. “But there wasn’t any damn bakery, Murph. She said that herself.”
“Evan, Christ.” Murph rolled his eyes. “I’m away for a week and this is what happens? Look, I don’t know about this little money dilemma. I’m sure if you spoke to Daisy, she’d have an explanation for what happened there.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, she bought a fucking laptop with the money that was meant to be for her family. I saw it myself. Said it was a gift from her parents. Her parents who are meant to be struggling to get by,remember?”
Leaning back in his chair, Murph kept giving me that look. That disappointed look mixed in with a you’re-an-idiot look. “You sound just like him.”
“Who?”
“Asher.”
“Yeah, and?”
“Where do you think your little friend gets that entitled fucking attitude from? He’s a spoiled, rich punk. Just like his daddy. He owns half that goddamn town he’s from. Did you know that?”
Frowning, I thought about that for a moment. I knew Asher’s family were well off like mine. His dad was some property developer or something. “I dunno. Why?”
“When I got that anonymous email, I didn’t know what to think.”
I took a step closer to Murph. “Wait, what email? Holden mentioned that. What was in it? What did Daisy send you?”
“Daisy didn’t send me a thing,” Murph said.
I blinked at him. “Then who did?”
Murph sighed loudly. “Patrick Collins.”
“Okay, who the hell is that now?” My voice was loud as I felt confusion take over my brain. “What’s going on?”
“He’s a journalist. He sent me a couple things. Medical reports, some photos. Photos that really… upset me. They fucking scared me, actually.”
“What… What did he send you?” I asked, eager for Murph to keep explaining. Nothing scared Murph. He had always been a tough guy and had no issues getting in my face or the face of other guys to make sure we were pushing ourselves. Hell, he yelled at other coaches too. So what the hell were those photos of? “I don’t get it.”
“I was confused too. I found out he was a journalist from Great Falls. Asher’s hometown,” Murph explained.
“Daisy’s hometown too, then,” I mumbled.
“Right. He works for the local paper. Great Falls Today or something. I asked him where the hell he got all that shit from, but he never got back to me.”
My head hurt. “Murph, I don’t get it.”
“The local newspapers didn’t write about Asher attacking Daisy. I looked. I didn’t find a thing on him. Why would they? His dad probably has them on his payroll. Guy’s got serious money. You knew that. Asher’s a good liar. But you know who doesn’t lie?”
I just shook my head at him.
Murph let out a long breath before opening up a drawer at his desk. Then he pulled out a folder and snatched a piece of paper out of it, sliding it across the wood. I grabbed it with one gloved hand, noting the writing at the top. It said Great Falls Hospital in big, bold letters. With my stomach in knots, I let my eyes move over the words.
And then it suddenly felt like the world was ending.
“Daisy McClaine was admitted to Flint Hospital on September 16,”I mumbled out. My eyes widened at the next line. “… Miss McLaine arrived at the emergency department in the early evening. Upon arrival, she was unconscious and was… bleeding from the nose and mouth. Upon investigation, a CT scan revealed severe trauma to the head. This included a depressed… Depressed skull fracture and eye socket, and an…”
“Epidural hematoma,” Murph finished the sentence off for me. “To dumb it down for you: she was bleeding on the inside of her fucking head, Wentworth. Keep reading.”
With a shaky hand, I looked back down at the paper. “Emergency surgery was performed. Miss McLaine was observed over the night and… And was not expected to make a full recovery…” I literally choked on my breath when I read that part out loud. “Jesus Christ.”
