sat perfectly still, eyes shut tight, holding her middle, waiting for the stranglehold to ease. ‘Fine,’ she managed. ‘I’m fine.’ She even opened her eyes.
Rivers waited, ready to call an ambulance.
‘. . . Deck the halls with boughs of holly . . .’
‘I hate to say it: your mother’s right. You shouldn’t have gone out in this weather. You sure you’re okay?’
Harper nodded. It was subsiding. Slowly. ‘I’m fine. Just a random contraction.’
Rivers watched her for a while longer, then finally stood and took her tea mug to the sink. ‘It’s not my place to tell you this, but, hell, I will anyway. Take it easy, Mrs Jennings. Don’t stress about anything. Especially about that guy you saw; let me worry about him, okay?’
Harper bristled. ‘I can’t just forget about him, Detective.’
‘Mrs Jennings, let me do my job? And you do yours: Be pregnant.’
Harper nodded, even smiled. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Convey my best wishes to your husband, will you? And, assuming I won’t see you in the next few days, have a merry Christmas.’
Harper thanked her, wished her the same. She stood to see her out, but her legs felt weak, and the detective told her to sit and take it easy. Harper didn’t argue. She sat, breathing deeply, hearing her mother’s dreadful singing. Staring at the key.
Evan was getting nervous. ‘I think you killed him, Sty.’
‘You think
I
killed him? You beat the fucking shit out of him.’
‘But you’re the one who drugged him. You must have overdosed him. He hasn’t moved all day. And he shit himself. That happens when you die.’
One of them stepped closer; Sebastian could actually feel the heat radiating from the guy’s body. He held his breath, willed his heart to slow.
‘He’s not dead.’
‘You’re sure?’
Sty put a hand on Sebastian’s chest. ‘There’s a heartbeat. But we have to get Rory a new mattress. This one’s totaled.’
Silence. Sebastian waited, bracing himself for the unexpected, barely breathing. Feigning unconsciousness.
Sty put his face up against Sebastian’s, lifted the eyelid that wasn’t swollen closed. Watched his eye for a sign of awareness. ‘Hello? Anybody home?’ Finally, he gave up. ‘He’s out,’ Sty said, releasing the eyelid.
Sebastian almost wept with relief. Almost let out a breath. But he didn’t dare. Suddenly Sty pressed down on his swollen, probably broken knee, but despite some woozy pain and a dull realization that his leg was exploding, he didn’t move. Didn’t let out a sound. Gave silent thanks for the drugs.
‘You’re right. I probably overdosed him.’
‘So what do you suggest we do?’ That was Evan.
‘I guess we wait for him to wake up.’
‘And then?’
‘And then we proceed as planned.’
More footsteps, moving away this time. Sebastian allowed himself a shallow shudder. Another.
‘But I think we should make revisions.’
‘Why?’
‘Seriously? Why? Look at him, Evan. He’s messed up. You went kind of berserk—’
‘What did you expect? The fucker stuck his tongue in my mouth—’
Sty was laughing. ‘So? He liked you. Who could blame him? I mean, now that I think about it, you’re kind of cute.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Point is suicide won’t cut it any more. As in, he couldn’t have beaten himself to a pulp. The authorities would investigate to find out who did.’
Silence.
‘Okay. How about this? We conceal the injuries behind bigger ones . . .’
‘Like how? Oh, the gorge? No, too risky. We might be seen.’
‘Not if we do it at night. Late.’
‘And if someone and his sweetie just happen to wander by?’
‘It’s intersession. Nobody will—’
‘I said it’s too risky.’ Sty’s tone was final.
Sebastian let out a breath of relief. He had no desire to be thrown into the gorge.
‘Fine. Then what do you suggest?’ Evan sounded miffed.
‘We could dump him somewhere in town. He’d be just another drug overdose. They happen all the time.’
‘Sty.
Rivers waited, ready to call an ambulance.
‘. . . Deck the halls with boughs of holly . . .’
‘I hate to say it: your mother’s right. You shouldn’t have gone out in this weather. You sure you’re okay?’
Harper nodded. It was subsiding. Slowly. ‘I’m fine. Just a random contraction.’
Rivers watched her for a while longer, then finally stood and took her tea mug to the sink. ‘It’s not my place to tell you this, but, hell, I will anyway. Take it easy, Mrs Jennings. Don’t stress about anything. Especially about that guy you saw; let me worry about him, okay?’
Harper bristled. ‘I can’t just forget about him, Detective.’
‘Mrs Jennings, let me do my job? And you do yours: Be pregnant.’
Harper nodded, even smiled. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Convey my best wishes to your husband, will you? And, assuming I won’t see you in the next few days, have a merry Christmas.’
Harper thanked her, wished her the same. She stood to see her out, but her legs felt weak, and the detective told her to sit and take it easy. Harper didn’t argue. She sat, breathing deeply, hearing her mother’s dreadful singing. Staring at the key.
Evan was getting nervous. ‘I think you killed him, Sty.’
‘You think
I
killed him? You beat the fucking shit out of him.’
‘But you’re the one who drugged him. You must have overdosed him. He hasn’t moved all day. And he shit himself. That happens when you die.’
One of them stepped closer; Sebastian could actually feel the heat radiating from the guy’s body. He held his breath, willed his heart to slow.
‘He’s not dead.’
‘You’re sure?’
Sty put a hand on Sebastian’s chest. ‘There’s a heartbeat. But we have to get Rory a new mattress. This one’s totaled.’
Silence. Sebastian waited, bracing himself for the unexpected, barely breathing. Feigning unconsciousness.
Sty put his face up against Sebastian’s, lifted the eyelid that wasn’t swollen closed. Watched his eye for a sign of awareness. ‘Hello? Anybody home?’ Finally, he gave up. ‘He’s out,’ Sty said, releasing the eyelid.
Sebastian almost wept with relief. Almost let out a breath. But he didn’t dare. Suddenly Sty pressed down on his swollen, probably broken knee, but despite some woozy pain and a dull realization that his leg was exploding, he didn’t move. Didn’t let out a sound. Gave silent thanks for the drugs.
‘You’re right. I probably overdosed him.’
‘So what do you suggest we do?’ That was Evan.
‘I guess we wait for him to wake up.’
‘And then?’
‘And then we proceed as planned.’
More footsteps, moving away this time. Sebastian allowed himself a shallow shudder. Another.
‘But I think we should make revisions.’
‘Why?’
‘Seriously? Why? Look at him, Evan. He’s messed up. You went kind of berserk—’
‘What did you expect? The fucker stuck his tongue in my mouth—’
Sty was laughing. ‘So? He liked you. Who could blame him? I mean, now that I think about it, you’re kind of cute.’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Point is suicide won’t cut it any more. As in, he couldn’t have beaten himself to a pulp. The authorities would investigate to find out who did.’
Silence.
‘Okay. How about this? We conceal the injuries behind bigger ones . . .’
‘Like how? Oh, the gorge? No, too risky. We might be seen.’
‘Not if we do it at night. Late.’
‘And if someone and his sweetie just happen to wander by?’
‘It’s intersession. Nobody will—’
‘I said it’s too risky.’ Sty’s tone was final.
Sebastian let out a breath of relief. He had no desire to be thrown into the gorge.
‘Fine. Then what do you suggest?’ Evan sounded miffed.
‘We could dump him somewhere in town. He’d be just another drug overdose. They happen all the time.’
‘Sty.
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