Page 53 of Haven't Killed in Years
“I have no idea, but I try to be grateful and not push it. He trusts me and wants his story heard.”
Detective Ellison closed her notebook and shoved it back into her jacket. “We’re going to need you to be available for further questioning. I hope you understand that your relationship with Abel Haggerty is not protected. If you know anything, you are obligated to share that with us.”
“I understand.”
The detectives turned and walked to the door. Dominic followed to let them out. Hanson left first, and as Detective Ellison crossed the threshold, she turned back toward me. “I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Gwen,” I said.
“Gwen…”
“Tanner,” I whispered, hoping she couldn’t hear but would accept that I had tried.
She nodded and left, reaching into her pocket, presumably for that stupid little notebook, as Dominic closed the door behind her. He didn’t even look at me as he walked to the couch and flopped down.
“You were great,” I said.
“Just go.” He buried his head under a throw pillow. “If you don’t want my help, at least try not to take me down with you.” Muffled. Defeated. A little overdramatic.
“What’s your problem?” I reached out and yanked the pillow from his face and threw it down on his chest. “You’re one hundred percent to blame for the position you’re in. Are you scared? You weren’t scared before when you were trying to find Marin Haggerty, even though the Marin Haggerty in your mind wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you. If anything, you should feel safe because Marin Haggerty actually likes you and has no interest in killing you. The real killer probably couldn’t care less about you. That’s a good thing.”
That was a lie, but I had to say something to try to put him at ease, even if it was mean. If the real killer knew how fond I had become of Dominic, that would absolutely put him in the crosshairs. It’s not like I was shy about spending time with him. He was probably on deck for a severed limb or exsanguination at some point.
“Great monologue,” said Dominic, throwing the pillow at me. “If you don’t want my help, then just get out of here.”
“Boo-hoo,” I said, mocking. “I need a few days to think and not worry about your arm being on my doorstep when I come home because you couldn’t help yourself and revealed the wrong thing to the wrong person.”
“Igetit,” he said.
“Good.” I was not having his little tantrum. “And don’t come to Jake’s tonight.” With that, I walked out of his apartment again, not knowing if I was helping him or hurting him by doing so.
- - - - -
Jake’s party was notwhere I wanted to be headed, but I wanted to see Elyse, and a desperate part of me still hoped Porter might be there.
I wore my new jeans and sweater and felt pretty good about it.Hey, I might get you all killed, but don’t I look kind of good in this?Iwondered how severe things would have to get for me to stop considering what other people were thinking. Maybe that Chinese satellite blackout thing.
The door opened and a guy stood there who I can best describe as: not Jake.
“Hey, Gwen!” He was happy to see me.
“Hey…”
“John.”
It was John! Fake ID John! “Sorry, I know, I was spacing. Happy birthday!”
“Come in, come in.” He ushered me inside to the sausage fest.
Thankfully no ritual mutilation games were taking place. Everyone was hanging out, drinking, smoking; there was music on. I got a few waves, but no real attention. I wished for Porter’s arms to grab me from behind and assault me in some ridiculous yet welcome way, but I remained untouched.
I meandered toward the window to the fire escape, but when I lifted the curtain, the landing was deserted.
“Elyse isn’t here.” I heard over my shoulder.
I whipped around. “God, you scared me.”
Jake thought it was funny.
