CHERISH (19 page)

“You are a stupid son-of-a-bitch. You know that?”

“Fuck off.” He spits the words, then sniffs back a sob, his voice leaking desperation.

“Now, I’m going to fucking let go of you. I want you to get your ass up and sit down right there. You got it?” I point to the armchair next to the sofa. It is the only seat that is not covered in debris.

“I’m not doing anything. I’m calling the cops.” He digs around in the pocket of his sweatpants with his one free hand before he looks up at me. I notice the distinctive plugs of fake hair that line his forehead. It’s not funny, but I feel that unwelcome flood of pity wash over me again. Fucking pathetic. “You can’t keep just breaking in here.” His voice cracks as I squeeze his hand harder.

“You want to call? Okay, I’ll dial for you.” I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out my cell and tap the screen until Northrup’s number shows up. I hit speaker, then dial, giving Jeremy a quick smile. “I’m pretty sure Northrup might want to ask you a few questions too. Seems Holly dropped by. Left them with some interesting information about you.”

“I’m not talking to him. Hang up!”

Just as I start to hit the end call button, Northrup’s voice comes on.

“Hello?”

“Detective Northrup? Hey, it’s Beckett Fitzgerald. Sorry, I think I butt-dialed you. Sorry.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “Hey, one thing I forgot to tell you and your wife today. Holly Henderson didn’t put it in her statement, but she dropped another little nugget on me before she left the station. Could be complete BS. Not much we can do about it, but thought you should know.”

Northrup stops there. His penchant for these dramatic pauses rakes on my last nerve.

“
And
?” I don’t hide the irritation in my voice. I point once again at the chair, letting go of Rendell’s hand. I tip my head telling him to take a fucking seat. I swear if he doesn't then I'm going to rip his fucking throat out.

Jeremy gathers himself onto his knees, crawls the two feet to the chair and lifts himself in a slump onto the cushion. He sits there, sulking.

“And, she said at some point, Rendell offered her money to let him adopt Promise. He offered to buy her.”

“No shit.” I look at Jeremy who avoids my gaze, and looks down at the floor still cradling the hand I crushed in his lap.

“Seems his little obsession started very young. I’m not sure how these three tie together, but somewhere they do. I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Well, let me see if I can’t dig up some new information for you.”

“Stay out of it,” he’s quick to say. “You’re the only one that isn’t a person of interest in all this bullshit. Got it? Take care of your wife and keep your distance. We’ll figure it out. These folks go farther back than we thought.”

“They sure do.”

“Oh, and between you and me. I don’t think they are all that interested in Promise for the fire anymore. She’s still got to stay put, but I’ve been asking around the arson unit, and from the rumblings, they aren’t seriously tagging her for anything. Just thought you would want to know. I never thought it was her myself. Just didn’t add up.”

“Thanks. Okay, well, I’ve got someone waiting.”

“Okay.”

We sign off and I lift the coffee table from one end, cascading a pile of garbage at Jeremy’s feet. My boot kicks it sideways about a foot in front of him. I sink into the seat across from him. The distance between us is polite, but I can reach him without getting up if I need to.

I lift the 9mm up between us, admiring it with something like a smile. But this shit is anything but funny.

“Well.” I sniff. “Nice piece. This yours?”

“Yes,
it’s
mine. And I know how to shoot it.” He spits the words at me like a spoiled six year old.

“Good for you. So do I.” I jam the Beretta into the back of my jeans under my belt. The cool metal against my skin pokes me up straighter as I glare into Rendell’s pathetic face deciding what I’m going to do next.

“What do you want?” he snaps.

“I’ve got questions.” I clear my throat, lean my forearms on my knees and stare his bully ass down. “You've got answers.”

“I’m not—”

I cut him off with a shake of my head and my hand shoots forward to grab his t-shirt around the neck. I twist and pull him toward me.

“Don’t tell me what you are ‘not’ going to do. I’ll snap your fucking neck before you can shit your pants.”

I watch him swallow. His eyes drop and don’t come back up.

My hand stays on his shirt a few moments longer. I want him to understand just who’s in the bitch position here so we can speed this up.

“First question is easy. It’s yes or no. If I hear anything else come out of your mouth except a 'yes' or a 'no,' you will be trying not to swallow your own teeth. And that's going to make this conversation a lot harder. For you. Cap-eesh?”

Rendell dares to roll his eyes at me but I let it go. I inhale a ragged breath to calm my rage.

“Did you set the fire in the loft?”

I watch as he sits up a bit and shifts his shoulders. His lips tighten and I stare his bravado down with an icy glare. His chest sinks back and his shoulders fall a couple inches.

“No.”

But I know that the security footage was doctored. And he’s a fucking liar.

“I believe you.” I give him a tap on the forehead with my index finger. “Now, what do you know about Louis and Holly and the night that she says he raped her? Remember, unlike your hair, you still have your own teeth and you may want to keep them.” I fill my chest with a breath and kick his socked foot with my boot. “I’ll fucking know if you’re lying. So save us both time and save yourself from early dentures.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“That’s not the answer to the question.” I tap two fingers, harder this time, on his forehead and lean forward until our noses are less than an inch apart. “I realize you are stupid, but the depth of that stupidity is something I am still assessing. Do you not understand the question or are you just being an ignorant dick?”

He pulls his head back and leans at an awkward angle in the chair just to pull a few more inches away from me.

“It was a long time ago. I don’t remember. I only remember she told me he raped her.”

My truth detector has flatlined.

“That’s bullshit. Try again.” I had zero patience when I got here; now I’m just pissed. I lick my bottom lip and consider where I’m going to punch him first. Face or throat.

“And he’s
gay
,” Jeremy snaps then sneers like he and I have just found some common ground.

For a big guy, my fist moves like a rattlesnake strike. It smashes into his mouth, wiping the smirk off his smug face, sending his head to the left and covering his teeth with a glaze of red.

The sound of the crunch of knuckle on teeth fills the few inches of space between us. immediately followed by a wounded puppy yelp from Rendell.

I feel better.

Deep cleansing breath.

I remain still and let him absorb that little lesson on how not to be a homophobic asshole.

“So, we’re off to a rough start.” I shake my head, chastising him. “Let’s start over. Try this. Tell me what Holly told you about that night. If she told you five different versions, I want all five.”

He tries to rustle up a man glare and I smile at the attempt which only annoys him further. His lips press together into a thin line as he’s remembering. He’s thinking too much, trying to decide what to tell me, so I figure he needs more incentive. All I want is the plain, raw truth.

I reach around toward my back, my eyes intent and on his—Jeremy’s widen and he swallows. My fingers touch the solid metal stuck in my belt but I don’t pull it out. Sometimes innuendo works better.

“One more thing,” I say, stroking the cold metal. “I have an internal lie detector. Trust me. It works. So if I detect a lie, you get hurt. I can be creative. You’ve already met my fist a couple times. And I have other creative ways of hurting you.” I bring my hand back to rest on my knee as I sit up straight with a bored sigh and an irritated scowl.

“She liked him,” he blurts out as he shakes his head, wiping the smear of blood from his bottom lip. “I don’t know why. She thought he had money, I guess. He wasn’t interested. But she managed to get him to take her to dinner one night. Told him she hadn’t eaten or something. Then she said she needed a ride home because someone was dropping off Promise and she wasn’t going to be there in time.”

No lie. “And.”

“I don’t know it all,” he whines, a drop of blood dribbling down his chin. I watch it trail through the scruff to land on his polyester shirt. “She got him to come inside. One time, she told me he just attacked her out of nowhere. Then another time, she was all proud because she seduced him. She said he wouldn’t do it. He brushed her off. You've met her; you can imagine how pissed she was. So she called him a fag or something.” He sits back farther in his chair, assessing the effect that word has on me. “Those are her words, not mine.”

“It’s not making sense. I do not have time for your shit today.” I have a feeling this little fairy tale involves Jeremy somehow and he’s playing it off like he’s an innocent bystander.

“I wasn’t
there
. Like I said, I just know what she told me and it was a long time ago. It was like it was some sort of badge of honor that she got him to fuck her. I don’t think she even knew he wasn’t really into women. I sort of knew, but I don't remember it being something we’d talked about. So that night, when he wasn’t interested in her, she just threw the insults out there and I guess something stuck. He sort of exploded after that.”

“Why didn’t she go to the police if he did rape her?”

“She said she was scared.”

Even Jeremy can’t hide the disbelief in his voice.

“Uh huh. We both know Holly Henderson is the first one to play victim if it suits her.” I’m working to put the pieces together in my head, but there is still something missing.

Then it dawns on me. A jolt of electricity shoots from my brain to my gut. “Were you fucking her?”

Jeremy looks at me with a gaping mouth and drops his hand from his swollen bottom lip.

“No.” He sets his jaw.

I shake my head. My hand comes up to clutch his t-shirt. His mouth turns into a startled ‘O’ and his hands start to come up.

Too late. I slam my forehead into his nose, head butting him with a grunt. Sometimes it's the sounds that do the job as much as the physical stuff.

He flops back into the chair. I’m not sure if he’s out cold, or just processing the amount of pain coursing through his nervous system. A trickle of blood makes a small red river out of his left nostril and stops for a moment when it reaches the top of his lip.

“I’ve had about as much of your bullshit as I can take. Don’t. Fucking. Lie. To. Me. We just covered this and you seem to be a slow learner. You have a college degree. These are not difficult questions.”

I smack his cheek until he opens his eyes. They are unfocused but at least he’s back with me.

“You were fucking her.” I nod at him and he eagerly nods back. “Good. Better.” I tousle his hair then crack another playful slap on his cheek.

“So, you were involved with her. And I understand. I’m sure back then she was beautiful. I get the attraction. But, here’s what I don’t get. She manages to get Louis to screw her that night.”

Jeremy interrupts, the pitch of his voice raised a notch. I'm not sure how much more he can take, so I hope he keeps cooperating. “She knew he wasn’t interested in her. I said she didn’t know, but she did. It was sort of a challenge I guess. She always wanted the ones that didn’t want her. It wasn’t money. Louis didn’t have any money then. He was just starting his company and working as a liaison, which doesn’t pay for shit.”

“Still, why did she not tell him she was pregnant?”

“Let’s just say, there were several—multiple—possibilities for whom Jordan’s father could be. Some of them . . . she didn’t even know their names or how to find them even if she wanted to.”

“Not you?” I raise my eyebrows, and for just a second I have a flash of honest, genuine empathy for the guy.

“No, it wasn’t me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know, okay? I don’t have to tell you why. Besides, Holly was messed up, even back then. I wanted to help them. I did. But she wouldn’t let me. But I couldn’t stand the way she treated Promise. She was so little and she had no one.”

“So you became a little too interested.”

“Not at first.” He says it like a plea. “In the beginning, I thought I was in love with Holly. Then, later, I just wanted Promise to be safe.”

“So you told her to set fucking fires?”

He rolls his eyes and any sympathy I had for him evaporates.

“It wasn’t supposed to hurt anyone.” He looks down and I want to rip his face off with my teeth.

Instead I push back, sliding the coffee table with me, and rise to my feet. I need to put some space between us before I fucking kill him. I press my hands to the sides of my head and rub my temples.

The thought that he manipulated a damaged, lonely little girl is pure evil.

“I loved her before you. I waited for her. I tried to help her.”

“And you even offered Holly money if she would give her to you.” I threw the line out and watched to see if he’d take the bait. My odds were fifty-fifty that every word out of Holly’s drugged up mouth was complete and utter bullshit.

Jeremy’s eyes tell me it’s true. Whatever his intentions, no sane person does that.

I need to get out of here. His stink wakes up parts of me that will not simply end with a bloody nose.

I need to speak to Louis’s sister next. Then somehow get to Louis. And nothing’s going to stop me.

“My inclination here is to beat you, and just keep on beating you, until you need to suck your food through a straw for the remainder of your days. But I’ll re-think that if you give me a straight answer to just one more question.”

My gut turns. His next words may very well change everything.