Read Online The Bedroom Killer by Taylor Waters - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Taylor Waters
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to confess to the whole thing. It was the only way to get them to listen. John tried to grab his bandage, as if touching it would somehow make it disappear, and no one would see any evidence of his inconveniently unsuccessful suicide attempt.
"She really cut you up," Bell said.
"No, it 's not a scratch."
John stood , slouched over, due to the chain holding his cuffed hands.
"Sit down!" Bell yelled.
"It's not a scratch!" he shouted.
"John, it's okay," Ash said.
Bell stood , pointing across the table.
"I said, sit down!"
"I'll show you." John reached up as far as he could with his shackled arms. Bell began to round the table, and Ash stood, too.
The door burst opened , and two officers ran inside. They grabbed John from behind, each taking an arm. But it was too late. In the time it took them to enter and Bell to get around the table, John had managed to get the fingers on his right hand under the corner of the four-inch by three-inch gauze dressing that covered his right cheek. As they shoved him down, he ripped the bandage from his face, exposing the ugly, four-inch long laceration that ran from his right jaw line up to the corner of his right eye. John held the bandage in his right hand and turned his head so his right cheek faced Bell.
The officers stepped back. Ash sat in her chair, and Bell stood defiantly over John.
John turned from Bell and looked across to Ash, the only person he felt he had any hope of actually listening to him.
"It's not a scratch !" he shouted through his tears.
"Christ ," Bell said.
"It's a gunshot wound . From my gun. And you know who put it there? I did. I was going to put a bullet through my brain, but I missed. Because the guy you're looking for slammed into my car and knocked me sideways. I saw him. I'm not a killer. I don't kill people. I help people. I'm a doctor. I save lives.” John slumped forward, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed. "I save lives."
CHAPTER 16
Two hours after the ugliest interview in her long career , Megan had John's bandage replaced. She calmed him down and gave him a Tylenol. When she learned he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours, she bought him a cup of coffee, some eggs, and bacon from the local Denny's around the corner.
She spoke briefly with him after Bell and the other detectives had left the room, asking him to go into a little more detail about his entire day before driving to his old house . And when he was finished, she believed him. He wasn't the Bedroom Killer. They would visit his home— he even encouraged it—but she didn't believe they would find anything. She'd conferred with Andy and Rick about their interviews with Drs. Larson and Turner, and she shared her information about Nurse Atwood. It was clear to Megan that Ms. Atwood was somewhat in love with Dr. Randall—or had been at one time. She certainly cared for him. More than just a co-worker. It was also clear that if anything happened between these two, it ended the night his wife and son died. She didn't know how to feel about that, and in reality it didn't matter. But still, the way Carrie spoke about this man made Megan wonder. Could he really be as wonderful as she'd made him out to be? Megan had only met one man who fit that description, but he'd been gone a long time now. She missed him. Every day.
Focus , Megan .
She didn't need to review anything. There just wasn't enough evidence to put Dr. Randall inside the house, either that, or Randall missed his calling as an actor with Oscar-caliber talent. Time would tell. She found herself feeling very sorry for him. Everything in his life had collapsed around him. He was a good man. That's what they all said. Dr. Turner said, " One of the best human beings you could ever meet." Nurse Carrie said, " He was loved by everyone. I was a little envious of his wife. They were the perfect couple." Dr. Larson said, "I can't imagine what made him try suicide. We were making such good progress.
"She really cut you up," Bell said.
"No, it 's not a scratch."
John stood , slouched over, due to the chain holding his cuffed hands.
"Sit down!" Bell yelled.
"It's not a scratch!" he shouted.
"John, it's okay," Ash said.
Bell stood , pointing across the table.
"I said, sit down!"
"I'll show you." John reached up as far as he could with his shackled arms. Bell began to round the table, and Ash stood, too.
The door burst opened , and two officers ran inside. They grabbed John from behind, each taking an arm. But it was too late. In the time it took them to enter and Bell to get around the table, John had managed to get the fingers on his right hand under the corner of the four-inch by three-inch gauze dressing that covered his right cheek. As they shoved him down, he ripped the bandage from his face, exposing the ugly, four-inch long laceration that ran from his right jaw line up to the corner of his right eye. John held the bandage in his right hand and turned his head so his right cheek faced Bell.
The officers stepped back. Ash sat in her chair, and Bell stood defiantly over John.
John turned from Bell and looked across to Ash, the only person he felt he had any hope of actually listening to him.
"It's not a scratch !" he shouted through his tears.
"Christ ," Bell said.
"It's a gunshot wound . From my gun. And you know who put it there? I did. I was going to put a bullet through my brain, but I missed. Because the guy you're looking for slammed into my car and knocked me sideways. I saw him. I'm not a killer. I don't kill people. I help people. I'm a doctor. I save lives.” John slumped forward, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed. "I save lives."
CHAPTER 16
Two hours after the ugliest interview in her long career , Megan had John's bandage replaced. She calmed him down and gave him a Tylenol. When she learned he hadn't eaten in almost twenty-four hours, she bought him a cup of coffee, some eggs, and bacon from the local Denny's around the corner.
She spoke briefly with him after Bell and the other detectives had left the room, asking him to go into a little more detail about his entire day before driving to his old house . And when he was finished, she believed him. He wasn't the Bedroom Killer. They would visit his home— he even encouraged it—but she didn't believe they would find anything. She'd conferred with Andy and Rick about their interviews with Drs. Larson and Turner, and she shared her information about Nurse Atwood. It was clear to Megan that Ms. Atwood was somewhat in love with Dr. Randall—or had been at one time. She certainly cared for him. More than just a co-worker. It was also clear that if anything happened between these two, it ended the night his wife and son died. She didn't know how to feel about that, and in reality it didn't matter. But still, the way Carrie spoke about this man made Megan wonder. Could he really be as wonderful as she'd made him out to be? Megan had only met one man who fit that description, but he'd been gone a long time now. She missed him. Every day.
Focus , Megan .
She didn't need to review anything. There just wasn't enough evidence to put Dr. Randall inside the house, either that, or Randall missed his calling as an actor with Oscar-caliber talent. Time would tell. She found herself feeling very sorry for him. Everything in his life had collapsed around him. He was a good man. That's what they all said. Dr. Turner said, " One of the best human beings you could ever meet." Nurse Carrie said, " He was loved by everyone. I was a little envious of his wife. They were the perfect couple." Dr. Larson said, "I can't imagine what made him try suicide. We were making such good progress.
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