bathed in the swirling red and blue light of a police cruiser parked in the driveway. He looked even more pissed off than when he’d showed up with an arrest warrant the week before. His short hair was matted, and his clothing was disheveled in a way that suggested he’d been pulled from bed to come there.
“Look, someone climbed through my daughter’s window and tried to kill her in her bed. I never graduated from the police academy or anything, but I’m thinking that the critical piece to this mystery isn’t in my towels.”
“What makes you think he was trying to kill her?”
“Because he was leaning over her with a gun and a syringe?”
“Right,” Sands said. “But you told me you emptied the syringe into his leg and he ran away. If it was a weapon, it wasn’t a very good one.”
“Come on,” Richard said angrily. “The dosages to kill a grown man can be very different than what it would take to kill a sick eight-year-old girl. Or it could be slow acting or some kind of biological agent. You know that as well as I do.”
“What I’m saying,” Sands said, turning away from the window, “is that I seem to be coming here a lot lately. I’m also saying that you have access to syringes. And I’m wondering why neither you, your wife, nor your daughter seem to be able to give me a solid description of a man you were dancing around with for God knows how long in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot room.”
Carly walked in and handed her husband a bag of ice to slow the growth of the lump rising on his head. He tried to smile in thanks but only managed a wince as he pressed it to his scalp. Miraculously, his was the most serious injury of the night. Susie was terrified but completely unharmed, and beyond the bruises darkening on her neck, Carly seemed no worse for the wear either.
“You do have access to syringes, don’t you, Doctor?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Carly started but fell silent when Richard motioned for calm. She glared at Sands long enough to make the cop look away and then marched back toward the living room where their daughter had started crying again.
“You think I had something to do with this?” Richard said. “What possible motivation could I have?”
“How about this: I hear you’re trying to do a deal with PharmaTan where you get off scot-free. Seems like it wouldn’t hurt to drum up a little sympathy.”
Sands leaned back against the wall, his scowl making it clear that he wasn’t a fan of being denied a conviction by a bunch of backroom dealing.
“Christ,” Richard said under his breath. “Are we just wasting our time here, Detective? Are you even going to look into this?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he responded, jabbing a finger in the air. “Do you have an insurance policy on your daughter’s life?”
“What?”
“Must be hard, huh, Doc? Single-handedly trying to cure a disease like this? But if your daughter was dead, it’d be over, wouldn’t it? You could go be a plastic surgeon in Hollywood and live the good life.”
Richard just stood there blinking, trying to quell the anger rising in him. It was clear that Sands was purposely trying to throw him off balance, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Detective, that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. If it had been me, I’d have succeeded, and no one would have ever known.”
“Maybe your wife came in and surprised you. But she understands the stress you’re under and she’s trying to protect you. You should just tell me. Get it off your chest. I mean, you don’t need any more stress than you’ve already got, right? That shit’ll eat you alive.”
Richard kept his expression placid but struggled to unclench his teeth. “I think if you were to actually give that theory any thought, you’d find that it’s not all that plausible.”
“Oh, I intend to give it some thought. A whole lot of it, in fact.”
Another uniformed cop came in and whispered
“Look, someone climbed through my daughter’s window and tried to kill her in her bed. I never graduated from the police academy or anything, but I’m thinking that the critical piece to this mystery isn’t in my towels.”
“What makes you think he was trying to kill her?”
“Because he was leaning over her with a gun and a syringe?”
“Right,” Sands said. “But you told me you emptied the syringe into his leg and he ran away. If it was a weapon, it wasn’t a very good one.”
“Come on,” Richard said angrily. “The dosages to kill a grown man can be very different than what it would take to kill a sick eight-year-old girl. Or it could be slow acting or some kind of biological agent. You know that as well as I do.”
“What I’m saying,” Sands said, turning away from the window, “is that I seem to be coming here a lot lately. I’m also saying that you have access to syringes. And I’m wondering why neither you, your wife, nor your daughter seem to be able to give me a solid description of a man you were dancing around with for God knows how long in a ten-foot-by-ten-foot room.”
Carly walked in and handed her husband a bag of ice to slow the growth of the lump rising on his head. He tried to smile in thanks but only managed a wince as he pressed it to his scalp. Miraculously, his was the most serious injury of the night. Susie was terrified but completely unharmed, and beyond the bruises darkening on her neck, Carly seemed no worse for the wear either.
“You do have access to syringes, don’t you, Doctor?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Carly started but fell silent when Richard motioned for calm. She glared at Sands long enough to make the cop look away and then marched back toward the living room where their daughter had started crying again.
“You think I had something to do with this?” Richard said. “What possible motivation could I have?”
“How about this: I hear you’re trying to do a deal with PharmaTan where you get off scot-free. Seems like it wouldn’t hurt to drum up a little sympathy.”
Sands leaned back against the wall, his scowl making it clear that he wasn’t a fan of being denied a conviction by a bunch of backroom dealing.
“Christ,” Richard said under his breath. “Are we just wasting our time here, Detective? Are you even going to look into this?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” he responded, jabbing a finger in the air. “Do you have an insurance policy on your daughter’s life?”
“What?”
“Must be hard, huh, Doc? Single-handedly trying to cure a disease like this? But if your daughter was dead, it’d be over, wouldn’t it? You could go be a plastic surgeon in Hollywood and live the good life.”
Richard just stood there blinking, trying to quell the anger rising in him. It was clear that Sands was purposely trying to throw him off balance, but it wasn’t going to be that easy.
“Detective, that’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard. If it had been me, I’d have succeeded, and no one would have ever known.”
“Maybe your wife came in and surprised you. But she understands the stress you’re under and she’s trying to protect you. You should just tell me. Get it off your chest. I mean, you don’t need any more stress than you’ve already got, right? That shit’ll eat you alive.”
Richard kept his expression placid but struggled to unclench his teeth. “I think if you were to actually give that theory any thought, you’d find that it’s not all that plausible.”
“Oh, I intend to give it some thought. A whole lot of it, in fact.”
Another uniformed cop came in and whispered
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