Laura launched herself at him again, not mindful of the bruises or scrapes she might have sustained in the fall, only thinking of securing him before he could run off again. She rolled him over, getting him onto his back so that she could force his arms behind him. “Scott Darnell,” she panted, catching her breath just enough to give him his caution. “We're placing you under arrest on suspicion of murder.” She pulled her handcuffs off her belt, fitting them onto his wrists just as Nate was coming around the corner.
“Laura,” he said, an ejaculation of surprise as well as of concern. She nodded to let him know that she was okay, despite the blow that she had taken. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off and Scott Darnell was in cuffs, she could feel it: a dull ache on her left knee and through all of her left side where she had gone down, as well as pain in her wrists and arms where she had taken most of the impact of hitting him.
But it didn't matter. Her efforts had secured the suspect, and he wasn't going to be able to kill again. Laura would take any number of blows to prevent a killer from getting away long enough to take another life.
“Let's take him in,” Laura said, stepping back and allowing Nate to haul Scott to his feet. She breathed deeply, running a hand back through her blonde hair, allowing herself to recover.
The biggest pain was in her head, pounding now because of the vision. She could only hope it was the last one she was going to need today, or for the rest of the case, giving herself time to recover. But with visions being as unpredictable as they were, she had little hope that she was going to avoid another one piling on top of her headache.
Just another reason to want to drink. But, as Laura watched Nate push Scott Darnell's head down to avoid hitting it on the side of the car as he got in, she knew there were reasons to stay sober. Lacey. Amy. Keeping an eye on Nate and making sure he stayed alive. And most of all, because the drunker she was the less able she would be to wrap this case up and get home to what really mattered.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Laura sipped at her coffee, lukewarm and about as strong as a muddy puddle, taken from the precinct’s machine. She didn't know how people here could put up with it. This was Seattle, home of the coffee shop. There should have been riots about this coffee machine.
“Are you ready?” Nate asked, gesturing towards the door of the interrogation room.
Laura nodded. They had been standing outside for a good ten or fifteen minutes already, letting Scott Darnell sweat. It was better this way. Let him get nervous on his own, let him worry. He would be much more likely to make a mistake then, or just blurt out a full confession before they even had to try hard.
“Let's get this creep,” Laura said. He was looking more and more likely to be the killer; he had a strong build, which meant he would have no problem at all with holding an adult woman back against himself and forcing a knife through her chest multiple times. He had the connection to both victims, and he was undoubtedly suspicious. Running when the cops came to your door was never a good sign.
They walked in together, Nate first and Laura behind, both of them deliberately keeping a dramatic and imposing presence. They sat without a word, staring at Scott, as if expecting him to say something. Laura put a large case folder down in f
ront of her, then tilted it towards herself and started to leaf through the pages in a way that meant Scott Darnell could not see what she was looking at. It was a good tactic, a common one but easy to use over and over again. It didn't matter if they even knew it was a tactic. Humans always felt the need to fill the silence, especially when they were expecting a conversation in the first place.
Finally, Scott Darnell broke. “Look,” he said. “I didn't mean anything by it. I really honestly thought that she was into it.”
Laura blinked. “You thought who was into what?” she asked.
Scott looked between Nate and Laura as if searching for an answer. But neither of them was prepared to give it to him. “The girl,” he said. “Marta. It was all a misunderstanding.”
Lower leaned back in her chair, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why don't you tell us the whole story with Marta, and we’ll make up all our minds as to whether it was a misunderstanding?” she said. She had no idea what he was talking about, but she was more than happy to give him enough rope to hang himself with.
“We went out on a date,” Scott said. “I mean, a date. You can't blame me for thinking that something was going to happen. I thought she wanted it. We had a good time.”
Laura had a terrible growing feeling that she was going to hear something that would make her want to punch him in the face. “What did you think she wanted, Scott?”
“Well, you know,” Scott said, shrugging as if it should be obvious. “What happens at the end of the date. I thought she was just playing coy, and she really did want me to come inside.”
“And then?” Nate said, his tone dangerous.
“And then I pulled her towards me and kissed her,” Scott said, his body language strained and his facial expression pleading. He looked like a man who was begging to be understood, to be believed. “That was all. My hand slipped down – I didn’t even mean to grab her ass. I mean – I didn’t grab it. This is all a mistake!”
Laura looked at Scott evenly for a moment, and then back at Nate. Something unspoken passed between their eyes, the agreement that he had told them enough about what he thought was the problem.
“Well, I’m going to be very interested to hear what Marta thinks happened,” Laura said. “But actually, Scott, we aren’t here to talk about that.”
“You aren’t?” he said, looking between them with a frown. “But…”
“Did you hear what I arrested you for, Scott?” Laura said.
“For Marta,” he said, with a certain degree of stubbornness.
“No, Scott,” Laura said calmly. “I arrested you on suspicion of murder.”
He stared at her.
“M-murder?” he repeated.