“The other week when I paid you a visit, we only suspected that you may have been the last person to see Ms. Greene alive. We’ve reviewed the footage twice from the days preceding and following her disappearance, and we were able to confirm that you arethelast confirmed person she was seen with. Which means she either disappeared into the wilderness, or—”
“What are you going to lay on me next? Surely, you didn’t bring me in just to relay that.”
“I corroborated your whereabouts the night of the murder. Your story conveniently checked out about the hospital. But,” his lips curled into a predatory smile, “Owens-Adair is an old facility operating on outdated surveillance technology. Almost half the cameras are blacked out around the building, some of which cover the parking lot.”
“I was there the entire time. I went straight to my shift at the hospital from my practice, just as I told you before.”
Reynolds put forth no argument but served him a hard stare. He wanted to witness Dayton crumble under the questioning, to be fearful at the very least. He wouldn’t dare allow the detective that satisfaction.
“I didn’t look into you before because Sanders and his sick little basement seemed the obvious route, but now? I want you for this, doctor, and when I want something, I get it.” He slid something across the table that Dayton thought he’d never see again: his Los Angeles County mugshot. Hands clasped, he went on, “You’ve been arrested before. March 19, 2007. Why don’t you tell me about that?”
The pain associated with the memory had dulled to the point of tolerance. While he’d loved Audrey, it didn’t begin to compare to the way he felt about Kenna.
With Kenna, love was rendered an inadequate label, much more than a hollow word echoed between lovers.
It was a state of being, indescribable and invasive, like sunshine shooting through his veins, delivering warmth to every dark corner of his soul.
And that precious light that had long evaded him was one of many reasons he needed to keep his head screwed on around Detective Brian Reynolds, Portland Police Bureau.
“There’s not much to tell. I was unfaithful and, as a result, we had a difference of opinion about the status of our relationship.”
“So, you broke into her sorority with the hope that what? She’d take your sorry ass back?”
“It was a foolish thing to have done. I regret it to this day, and it made my residency interviews a living hell. I wasn’t officially charged with anything but spending the night in jail doesn’t look good when you’re trying to impress a board of doctors.”
Ignoring the anecdote, Reynolds pressed on with his assertions. “Well, if romantic altercations get you fired up, that certainly puts the footage in a new light.”
“Nothing romantic occurred between myself and Ms. Greene. I saw her only on two occasions.”
Reynolds swung his feet up on the corner of the table, heels thunking against the metal. “No, I don’t mean Lacey. That cute little redhead you’re always running around with. Let me ask you something, Merino, is chaos woven into the fabric of your life or do you concoct this shit over your morning coffee? This poor girl went from being mentored by you to working for you to getting shunned and shamed at her own universitybecauseof you to—from what I can tell—serving as your plaything. And I’m thinking she must be your motivation, you know? You’ve gone to such lengths to control her, keep her in your life, and maybe somehow in that twisted brain of yours, what with your history of infidelity and all, you thought Lacey showing up might wreck everything. So you had to get rid of her. Because, lo and behold, who shows up for her shift less than 20 minutes after your interaction with Miss Lacey Greene? None other than your redhead.”
“Tread lightly when you share your conspiracy theories with your lieutenant. I’d hate for you to lose your badge.” His heartbeat rattled like a lone marble rolling around a 10-gallon barrel but Dayton leaned into the table and steeled his face. “The only thing I’m guilty of is being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Oh, you were there at the right time. I haven’t connected all the dots yet but I will. Count on it.”
The detective’s chair screeched as he pushed away from the table. He rose and walked halfway to the door before turning to Dayton.
“You’re free to go, you piece of shit. For now.”
* * *
He called Kenna several times throughout the day once he returned to his now destroyed home, but on each occasion it went straight to voicemail.
Either her phone was dead or she was manually ignoring his calls. Her silence paired with the detective’s hour-long mindfuck interrogation had him restless, like an animal confined to a cage that was much too small. He couldn’t get away from himself, thoughts circling, urging him to succumb to the madness with which he was so familiar.No.His pacing halted as he tore at his hair.
He’d resolved to put his malevolence behind him.
All of the mistakes he had made had trained him in a way, strengthening his resolve so as not to stray from Kenna, that brightly burning light guiding him out of a lifetime of darkness. But he wasn’t entirely out of the dark.
Lacey was dead and the investigators were cracking under the pressure of making an arrest, evident in Detective Reynolds’ repeated questions and the deep purple bags ringing his bloodshot eyes. Despite his false bravado, he’d seemed dissatisfied with where their interview had ended up, but Dayton knew better than to exhale. With the boyfriend having split town, he knew he was their secondary suspect.
If he so much as dipped his toes in the water of legal trouble, his medical license could be suspended.
Or revoked entirely.
He was sure he had done everything right so as not to draw suspicion to himself. The blasted traffic cameras erased that certainty. Video evidence existed of him and Lacey interacting. When the investigators inevitably came knocking, he had planned to tell them he had not associated with the Greene girl since their bizarre pseudo-session at the university. But Detective Reynolds turned up with his discovery and his smugness and cut down the innocence Dayton had prepared to feign. And yet, through it all—heart racing and head swimming—he maintained a relative calm during the rounds of questioning.
Standing still in his bedroom, his pulse ratcheted up once more as he considered the fact that the detective also knew he’d been at trivia with a former colleague the night the body was found. At thevenuewhere it had been found.