Page 60 of Every Last One
“Not terribly well. I live on the next block, and we don’t talk much. Especially recently, as I told you. In the past, though, she’s always been kind. Something changed her.”
“Do you know what?”
“No.”
Eric considered getting the picture to show Garth, but from his statement, he didn’t know Feeney well. It was unlikely he’d be able to identify the older woman. Though, Eric asked, “She received flowers from someone with a name starting with C. Any idea who that might be?”
“Colton maybe?”
“And who is he?”
“Her boyfriend. He lives two doors down from me, and I’ve seen Carmen visiting. He’s in the blue house.”
“Do you know how long they’ve been involved?”
“I think I first saw her there at least a year ago. But you know how time goes. It could be longer.”
Eric pulled out his phone and showed Garth pictures of both gunmen. One looked closer to Feeney’s age while the other man looked as old as the landlord, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. “Are either of these men Colton?”
“No.”
“And neither look familiar to you? They didn’t come around here?”
“As I said, I don’t live close enough to see all the comings and goings here, so I really couldn’t say.”
“Fair enough. Do you know Colton’s last name?” Eric thought he’d ask even though Garth already told him where to find Colton.
“I couldn’t tell you.”
“Well, thank you for all your help.”
“Uh-huh.” Garth turned to leave, pivoted around again. “She is okay, though, right? She didn’t get herself in so deep that there’s no turning things back around?”
Eric couldn’t assure that and settled on saying, “Time will tell.”
Garth stood there for a few seconds, nodded, and then left.
Eric called Lieutenant Coleman. As he listened to it ring, the pieces were coming together. Feeney had to know she was getting close to being evicted. Had that been the final breaking point for her?
THIRTY-THREE
3:10 PM
Maria Torres kept seeing it over and over. Jordon flying backward to the floor with a piercing scream. The blood spraying from his body and how warm it was when she put her hand over the wound. She turned that hand over and looked at her stained palm. Jordon’s blood.
She seethed, staring at the monster responsible across the room. He was in Gail’s face, but Maria had never been so full of hatred in her life. He’d shot the man she loved right in front of her. Jordon was only trying to protect her. And she hadn’t even much of a chance to assess the extent of Jordon’s injuries before she was yanked away. But all that blood… It was all she could see. And he was struck in the lower waist to his left. The bullet could have pierced his intestines. If so, he was certain to die without immediate help. She couldn’t even let herself think that could happen. As if by loving someone so much you could grant them immortality. But surely help had to be coming soon. Though maybe that was also wishful thinking. The earlier instances of gunfire hadn’t brought the police running in. It felt like they were on their own.
She couldn’t hear Jordon’s cries in the hall anymore, and she feared the worst. That she had lost him.
“Hey, aren’t you going to do anything?” The gunman was staring at her, but she didn’t know what he was talking about.
Between thoughts of Jordon, she was too busy fantasizing about this man’s demise. But if she hurled herself at the man, all nails and teeth, like a rabid animal, she’d likely get herself shot. And as long as Jordon possibly drew breath, she’d summon the courage to carry on for him and their baby.
“Hello?” The gunman sped across the room and stood inches in front of Maria and snapped his fingers in her face.
She was frozen. Numb. She took in the world around her. Gail on the floor, her face swelled, and her phone smashed next to her.
“Do something or she’s going to die!” he yelled.
