You
have to know that."
"I've been at a million car accidents." Rick looked back at his hands.
"I've never seen anything like that before. It was . . . it was just awful."
In her normal life, Faith wasn't a touchy-feely person, but as a
cop, she knew when a softer approach was needed. She felt the urge
to lean across the table and put her hands over Rick's, to comfort him
and draw him out, but she wasn't sure how Galloway would react and
she didn't want to make herself any more of an enemy than she already
was.
Galloway said, "Did y'all meet at the theater or did you take one
car?"
Jake, the other man, shifted in his chair. He'd been very quiet
from the beginning, only speaking when he was asked a direct question.
He kept glancing at his watch. "I need to go," he said. "I have to
get up for work in less than five hours."
Faith glanced at the clock on the wall. She hadn't realized it was
coming up on one in the morning, probably because the insulin shot
had given her a strange sort of second wind. Will had left two hours
ago after giving her a quick rundown of what had happened, dashing
off to the crime scene before she could offer to join him. He was persistent,
and Faith knew that he would find a way to get this case. She
just wished she knew what was taking him so long.
Galloway pushed a pad and piece of paper toward the men. "Give
me all your phone numbers."
The color drained from Rick's face. "Only call my cell. Please.
Don't call me at work." He glanced nervously at Faith, then back at
Galloway. "They don't like me to get personal calls at work. I'm out
in the bus all day. All right?"
"Sure." Max sat back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest,
staring at Faith. "You hear that, vulture?"
Faith gave the man a tight smile. She could take outright hate, but
this passive-aggressive crap was getting on her last nerve.
She took out two business cards and handed one to each man.
"Please call me if you think of anything else. Even something that
doesn't seem important."
Rick nodded, tucking the card into his back pocket. Jake held on
to his, and she imagined he was going to toss it into the first trashcan
he came across. Faith's impression was that the men didn't know each
other very well. They had been vague about details pertaining to
their friendship, but each had presented a movie-ticket stub when
asked. They had probably met in the theater, then decided to go
somewhere more private.
A cell phone began to play the "Battle Hymn of the Republic."
Faith corrected her initial assumption, thinking it was more than
likely the University of Georgia fight song, as Galloway flipped open
his phone, saying, "Yeah?"
Jake started to stand, and Galloway nodded to him, as if permission
to leave had been asked and granted.
"Thank you," Faith told the two men. "Please, call me if you
think of anything else."
Jake was already halfway to the door, but Rick lingered. "I'm
sorry I wasn't much help. There was a lot going on, and—" Tears
welled into his eyes. He was obviously still haunted by what had happened.
Faith put her hand on his arm, keeping her voice low. "I really
don't care about what you guys were doing out there." Rick colored.
"It's none of my business. All I care about is finding out who hurt this
woman."
He looked away. Immediately, Faith knew that she had pushed
him in exactly the wrong direction.
Rick gave a tight nod, still not meeting her eye. "I'm sorry I can't
be more help."
Faith watched him leave, wanting to kick herself. Behind her, she
heard Galloway mutter several curses. She turned as he pushed back
from the table so hard that his chair clattered to the floor. "Your partner
is a fucking lunatic. One hundred fucking percent."
Faith agreed—Will was never one to do things halfway—but she
never badmouthed her partner unless it was to his face. "Is that just
an observation, or are you trying to tell me something?"
Galloway tore off the page with the
have to know that."
"I've been at a million car accidents." Rick looked back at his hands.
"I've never seen anything like that before. It was . . . it was just awful."
In her normal life, Faith wasn't a touchy-feely person, but as a
cop, she knew when a softer approach was needed. She felt the urge
to lean across the table and put her hands over Rick's, to comfort him
and draw him out, but she wasn't sure how Galloway would react and
she didn't want to make herself any more of an enemy than she already
was.
Galloway said, "Did y'all meet at the theater or did you take one
car?"
Jake, the other man, shifted in his chair. He'd been very quiet
from the beginning, only speaking when he was asked a direct question.
He kept glancing at his watch. "I need to go," he said. "I have to
get up for work in less than five hours."
Faith glanced at the clock on the wall. She hadn't realized it was
coming up on one in the morning, probably because the insulin shot
had given her a strange sort of second wind. Will had left two hours
ago after giving her a quick rundown of what had happened, dashing
off to the crime scene before she could offer to join him. He was persistent,
and Faith knew that he would find a way to get this case. She
just wished she knew what was taking him so long.
Galloway pushed a pad and piece of paper toward the men. "Give
me all your phone numbers."
The color drained from Rick's face. "Only call my cell. Please.
Don't call me at work." He glanced nervously at Faith, then back at
Galloway. "They don't like me to get personal calls at work. I'm out
in the bus all day. All right?"
"Sure." Max sat back in the chair, arms crossed over his chest,
staring at Faith. "You hear that, vulture?"
Faith gave the man a tight smile. She could take outright hate, but
this passive-aggressive crap was getting on her last nerve.
She took out two business cards and handed one to each man.
"Please call me if you think of anything else. Even something that
doesn't seem important."
Rick nodded, tucking the card into his back pocket. Jake held on
to his, and she imagined he was going to toss it into the first trashcan
he came across. Faith's impression was that the men didn't know each
other very well. They had been vague about details pertaining to
their friendship, but each had presented a movie-ticket stub when
asked. They had probably met in the theater, then decided to go
somewhere more private.
A cell phone began to play the "Battle Hymn of the Republic."
Faith corrected her initial assumption, thinking it was more than
likely the University of Georgia fight song, as Galloway flipped open
his phone, saying, "Yeah?"
Jake started to stand, and Galloway nodded to him, as if permission
to leave had been asked and granted.
"Thank you," Faith told the two men. "Please, call me if you
think of anything else."
Jake was already halfway to the door, but Rick lingered. "I'm
sorry I wasn't much help. There was a lot going on, and—" Tears
welled into his eyes. He was obviously still haunted by what had happened.
Faith put her hand on his arm, keeping her voice low. "I really
don't care about what you guys were doing out there." Rick colored.
"It's none of my business. All I care about is finding out who hurt this
woman."
He looked away. Immediately, Faith knew that she had pushed
him in exactly the wrong direction.
Rick gave a tight nod, still not meeting her eye. "I'm sorry I can't
be more help."
Faith watched him leave, wanting to kick herself. Behind her, she
heard Galloway mutter several curses. She turned as he pushed back
from the table so hard that his chair clattered to the floor. "Your partner
is a fucking lunatic. One hundred fucking percent."
Faith agreed—Will was never one to do things halfway—but she
never badmouthed her partner unless it was to his face. "Is that just
an observation, or are you trying to tell me something?"
Galloway tore off the page with the
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