Chapter Twenty-Six
June – Monday
I didn’t know what to do as I got back into my car, where I had to just wait for Roy to call. I wasn’t sure if he would call me right away or if he’d wait until he was somewhere safe, but I didn’t want to start driving just in case.
I thought about his scared face as he left the police station, trying his best to rush through the crowds pecking at him like hungry birds, while his lawyer screamed out some pointless sentences, trying to put people off. Did he not understand what a scoop this would be for this town, should it turn out to be true? It would be the story of the century in Florence.
I knew for a fact that it wasn’t true, though. I’d been wavering outside, trying to find any ways that it could be true, just in case it came back as that, but with one glance into his eyes, I could see that it wasn’t. It was very likely that the murder had happened during the night Roy was with me. If he’d already been released, then maybe they wouldn’t need me to confess that I was with him, after all. Maybe I would still be able to keep my career despite everything.
I almost jumped up from my seat when my phone started ringing. The phone call might have been what I was waiting for, but to have it actually happen while I was so deep in thought threw me.
“H…hello? Roy, are you okay?” I stammered into the handset. “Did you manage to get away all right?”
“I did…” He sounded off, which had me even more panicked. “I really don’t want to go home. I know that they will be waiting for me there.” I couldn’t deny that. The photographer from the Gazette was likely still there, like a lion waiting to pounce on his kill. “Is there any chance that I could come and stay with you for a few days? I mean, I understand if you don’t want me to, with all that’s going on.”
“Are you kidding me?” I gasped in shock. I would do anything for him! “Of course, you can come and stay. I would love to help.” I didn’t dare ask what the chance of reporters being around my home was because I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know. If they were there, it was too late and the world already knew about us. Sure, if I was pictured with him, I wouldn’t have any plausible deniability, but that probably didn’t matter. “I will be there in a minute,” I promised him. “Just wait for me.”
As I raced the car back to my home, my phone started ringing again…only this time, it was Mike: the last person in the world that I wanted to speak to. Of course, I couldn’t ignore him – I was supposed to be on a job after all.
“Hi, Mike, I’m in the car, so I can’t talk much…”
“What the fuck is going on out there?” he interrupted, not caring about what I was trying my best to tell him.
“Erm… Well, Roy Larkin has been released,” I told him in the calmest voice I could manage. “And, there isn’t any police information just yet, but it seems like he’s innocent.”
“So, who the fuck was it, then? This could be a massive fucking scoop here. You need to be on top of it; where the fuck are you going?” I could tell he was pissed, which mean he was about to pile the pressure on.
“I will have the report emailed to you in a moment,” I told him quickly. “You’ll have everything that I know.”
“I really fucking hope it’s more than anyone else because if we can have something good for this story, then we’ll be selling out like fucking crazy.” Urgh, I hated the way his language took a dire turn whenever he was stressed. I found it such an unattractive feature. “So get it to me quick; I need it as soon as you can.”
“Sure, I’m on it.”
I was certain that he would steal this story to claim it as his own, but I really didn’t care. I didn’t really want to be attached to this one, anyway.
As I pulled up outside my home, I was stunned to see no other car there, but then I saw Roy’s shadow creeping around the corner. I practically ran to get the door unlocked. I was sure that he wanted exactly the same as me: to get inside, away from the rest of the world.
“Are you okay?” I asked, tears filling my eyes as I pulled him in for a hug. “That must have been so horrible for you.”
But he didn’t seem to care about the effect that it’d had on him; he seemed more worried about me. He pulled back to look at me with concern plastered across his expression before running kisses all over my cheeks, as if he wanted to kiss my tears away.
“I’m fine,” he told me, in between placing his lips on my cheek. “Are you all right? You look sick.”
“I’m okay,” I waved my hand dismissively, trying to brush that point off. I really didn’t want him to find out that I passed out; how awful would that make me sound when he’d been through a real trauma. After all the death this poor man had already suffered in his life, now he was seeing more, and even worse…being blamed for it. I couldn’t imagine what was going on inside his mind. “Let’s sit down, get you a drink or something.”
“Sure, thank you.”
As he sat and I passed him a glass of water, I realized just how terrible I was in crisis situations. I’d never really had to go through it before, and I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do. I felt really awkward, like I wasn’t quite sure where to even place myself, never mind what to say.
“So, what happened?” I eventually asked a little cautiously. “At the police station, I mean?”
“Urgh, it was shitty,” he told me honestly, rubbing his forehead hard with his palm. “But I didn’t tell them anything about you.” God, was that all that he thought I was worried about? And how selfish did it make me that it was one of my primary concerns? This man could have been locked up for something that he didn’t do, and I was worrying about my job. I didn’t like to think what sort of person that made me. “I didn’t mention that we were together because I didn’t want you to get in trouble. Luckily, I managed to get away anyway.”
“Why did they arrest you?” I was really curious about that part. I felt like they had to have some reason for suspecting him. I didn’t want to think that it was all for no reason.
“Because of the way I just shut down when I saw the body…emotionally, I mean. I guess they took that as suspect.” He let out a noise that I thought was supposed to be a laugh, but it came out far too strangled for that. “I mean, when did closing off make you a murderer? But there you go…”
“That’s awful,” I told him, wrapping my arms around him. “I hope you’re okay.”
“I just have this horrible feeling,” he continued, sounding a little dreamy. “That I know who is involved.”
“You do?” I exclaimed, unable to keep the shock from my voice. “With the murder, you mean? Did you tell the police anything?”
“I think it might have been Lewis, the guy acting as my lawyer today,” he continued, as if I hadn't even spoken. “I don’t know why – it’s more of a gut feeling than anything else – but there was just something a little suspect about the certainty of my innocence in his mind.”
“Well, he knows you well, right? He’s worked for you for years. Maybe he just knew that you wouldn’t…”
He gave me a look. “We’ve been hanging out, getting to know one another. I feel like you know me quite well. Tell me, before you actually spoke to me, was there a moment where you doubted me?” I didn’t say anything. I simply allowed the guilt to flow through my veins. “Of course you did, that would be rational. He just seemed so sure…”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I said nothing and proceeded to rub his back in a way that I hoped was comforting. We stayed in silence for a few moments, both lost in our own thoughts, before I remembered that I still had a job to do.
“I’m really sorry about this,” I told him awkwardly, moving towards my laptop. “I just need to send my boss a report about what happened today. He’ll be on my back all night otherwise.”
This felt horrible, like I was betraying him, but he looked really understandingly at me. “That’s okay… Just don’t say anything about Lewis.”
“Of course not, I would never do that.” I wouldn’t write about anything I was told in confidence; not that I could, anyway. This was nothing more than a gut feeling, not something that could be legally written about in the news.
“You can write about the fact that they only suspected me because of my emotionless phone call,” he told me seriously. “I want people to know the police based my arrest on that.”
At least I had something a little different to add in, something that would keep Mike happy. I could easily say I heard the information somewhere else if I were to be pulled up on it.
“Why don’t you go and get into bed?” I asked him, with a smile playing on my lips. “I know that it’s early, but you must be exhausted. I’ll bring you up something to eat and drink if you like? There’s a television in there, and some DVDs, so why don’t you stick on a movie while you wait for me?”
“Sounds good,” he agreed, looking a little happier. “And thank you, I really appreciate it. I know you didn’t have to take me in, so I’m really glad.”
But as he walked away from me, I didn’t feel good about myself. I felt like utter crap.
I had put Roy’s entire future at risk by not coming forward, by protecting myself, and there was nothing that I could do to change that. I was stuck with that choice, and it wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how hard I tried to forget it. I didn’t want to think of myself as a selfish person, but that was what I’d undeniably become.
“Shit,” I muttered angrily to myself as I set about typing up the report. I would have to find some other way to make it up to Roy, something else that I could do to ensure that he remained free – I just wasn’t quite sure what yet.
I fired off the email and sat with my head in my hands for a few moments, allowing all of that to wash over me. Before I could really lose myself in my sadness, an email pinged back from Mike, confirming that I’d done a good job, which sparked off a reaction in me.
I didn’t want to sit and mope. I needed to get into action, to make Roy the meal I promised him. Even if I’d done a bad thing, he was still here, giving me a chance, and the last thing that I wanted was to throw that back in his face.
I’m sorry, Roy, I thought to myself the things that I couldn’t say aloud. I’ll make it up to you; I promise.