Blood Will Tell (15 page)

“What does this have to do with anything?” Nick felt almost giddy as he focused on the last two words. “Who's Eldon Walker?”

“Your father,” the lady cop answered impatiently.

“My dad's name is Don. Not El—” Only as he said it did Nick realize
Don
must be a nickname. “Oh.” No wonder he had had trouble finding his dad when he googled him, eager for the stories his mother wouldn't tell.

Harriman spoke into his sudden silence. “Your father doesn't have any brothers, right?”

“What? No. Why?”

“And it's just you and your brother. And your brother told us he was home in bed that night. That he goes to bed early so he can work the early shift at UPS. Your mother confirmed it.”

Nick thought of the empty bed, the kicked-back covers, and willed his face into a mask. He had to be careful. So careful.

Had Kyle done it? His stomach did a slow flip. How could he think that? This was his brother. Not a murderer.

Only that was what he would have said about his dad. That his dad wasn't a murderer. That he was a hero.

And Kyle had always been such a good liar. Good enough you could start to doubt yourself.

He remembered how Kyle had suddenly bolted from the room when their mom started talking about the sirens. The sound of him retching. Maybe it hadn't been the flu. Had he been remembering sinking the knife into that girl, still sickened by it?

Or had it been just the simple fear that he would be caught?

 

CHAPTER 34

RUBY

FRIDAY

A CALCULATED RISK

Ruby checked her phone. Again. But there were no new texts. It had been over two hours since Nick had texted her and Alexis that Detective Harriman was taking him downtown because he was a potential witness. Two hours since he last answered a text—and Nick lived on his phone.

Ruby already knew everything that Nick had seen Sunday night driving past the area where Lucy Hayes had been murdered: nothing.

So why would the police still be talking to Nick? Talking to him when he didn't know anything?

The only answer was that they must think he did know something.

Or, Ruby realized as time ticked past and Nick kept ignoring her, they must think he had
done
something.

Instead of going to class, she hid in the bathroom until the bell rang. Then she walked down the suddenly empty hall, past the office, and right out the front door. Ms. Peyton, the administrative vice principal, was just coming in as she was going out. Ruby took a deep breath and tried to think of a lie, but Ms. Peyton only nodded at her and walked on.

Ruby realized that everyone knew what kind of girl she was, so that was what they saw. The kind of girl who would never skip.

Did the police think they knew what kind of guy Nick was? Were there things about Nick that might make them think he was the one they were looking for?

Ruby ran down the list in her head. Nick had admitted to being in the right area at the right time. He routinely carried a knife. Judging by his doodles, he was fascinated by violence. And he was impulsive.

Ruby also knew that underneath the brazen, bragging Nick was another guy, one who was capable of unexpected kindness. Of acts of heroism even when it looked like all hope was lost. But the police wouldn't know those things.

Then she remembered the evidence search and how he had accidentally put his hand down on the only footprint they had found. She was sure Nick's dizziness had been no act. But the police wouldn't know that. From their perspective, it might seem that he deliberately destroyed evidence.

Driving seven miles over the speed limit—a calculated risk—Ruby headed to the Fred Meyer on Barbur Boulevard, where Nick's mom worked. She found her at register nine.

“Hey, Ruby, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Walker threw a smile over her shoulder. Her hands never stopped moving, sliding item after item past the scanner and then putting them in the customer's heavy black nylon bag printed with a logo, not for Fred Meyer, but for Trader Joe's. The dissonance threw Ruby for a second. Then she gathered her thoughts.

“I'm here to ask you the same thing. Why are
you
here? Why aren't you with Nick?”

She frowned. “Why should I be with Nick?”

“Because he's being questioned by the police about that girl's murder!” Only when Mrs. Walker's customer—an old woman in mushroom-colored shoes—whipped her head around did Ruby realize she had forgotten to modulate her voice.

Mrs. Walker froze. “You don't understand. He's helping the police. That's all.”

“And just what kind of help could Nick give them? He doesn't know anything. It wouldn't take them two hours to figure that out. Unless they didn't believe him.”

The old lady cleared her throat, and with a start, Mrs. Walker started passing items across the scanner again.

“But Nick didn't do anything wrong.” She put a rubber band around a carton of eggs. “So it can't hurt him to talk to the police. They told me they just needed to get a few things straightened out.”

“You've got to put a stop to it immediately. Nick shouldn't be talking to them without an attorney. They wouldn't be questioning him for this long unless they thought he was a
suspect
.”

“Nick?” Mrs. Walker laughed. She actually laughed. “But he didn't have anything to do with it. Nick won't even kill a spider.”

Ruby ground her teeth in frustration. “But what if the police don't see him the same way you do? If they talk to him long enough, they could make him start thinking that he actually did. Juveniles are psychologically vulnerable to suggestive cues and coercion.”

“This is my son we're talking about. I know what he's capable of. I know he didn't do anything. I'm not really worried.” She turned to the older woman. “That will be $35.87.”

“And I know that, too,” Ruby said to her back. “And I
am
worried. Nick might start saying what they want to hear. You need to go down to the police station and put a stop to this right away.”

Mrs. Walker bit her lip. Ruby finally seemed to be getting through to her. “The thing is, I can't leave work.” She lowered her voice. “We've got a new manager, and he doesn't like me because I turned him down for a date. I think he's just looking for an excuse to fire me.”

“Then call the police.” Ruby held out her cell phone with the phone number already selected. “Call and tell them it's over, and I'll go get him. They'll either have to read him his Miranda rights and arrest him, or they'll have to let him go.”

Someone behind Ruby cleared his throat. She whirled around. “Is there a problem here?” It was a skinny middle-aged guy with an elaborate black mustache and a red polyester vest.

“Family emergency,” Mrs. Walker said. The manager looked from red-haired Ruby to blond Mrs. Walker. “Can I take five minutes after this customer?”

“You've already got someone else behind her.”

“Then after that. Please?”

“This really isn't the kind of behavior I want you to make a habit of.”

“I'm sorry.” Mrs. Walker lifted her hands.

He grunted. “This once. But don't think I'm not making note of it.”

*   *   *

Ruby wanted to fly down the freeway, but she kept to the same seven-miles-over-the-limit rule. She found a place to park and ran into the lobby of police headquarters. Just as she went in, the elevator doors opened and Nick stepped out.

He was holding his coat. Under the arms, his shirt was stained with sweat. On his feet were plastic shower shoes, the kind that prisoners wore. His eyes looked huge and frightened.

Ruby was opening her mouth when Harriman stepped out right behind him. His voice was pitched for both of them. “I know you, Nick. You can't live with a secret this big. No one can. It will eat at you. But the only way I can help you is if you tell the truth.”

“You know Nick,” Ruby said to Harriman. “And you know he didn't do it. It's not even logical.”

“Who ever told you that murder is logical?” Harriman spun on his heel and stabbed his finger at the elevator button. The doors opened back up, and he stepped inside without saying another word.

“They wanted me to take a DNA test.” Nick sighed heavily. “I said no.”

“Don't say another word until we're in my car,” Ruby said, grabbing him under the arm. Normally she didn't like to be touched or even to touch, but this was different. This was like giving someone first aid. Under her fingers, she could feel how he was shaking.

Once they were both inside her car, Nick said, “They took my shoes for ‘evidentiary purposes.' When I said no to the DNA test, they just told me they would get a court order.” His face changed. “That must be why Harriman asked me if I wanted anything to eat or drink when I first came in. I thought he was being nice. But he was probably looking for my DNA.”

“Why didn't you just give it to him?” Ruby asked. “I mean, sure,
you
must have gotten
her
DNA on you when you crawled through her blood, but she was long gone before we got there. And the converse isn't true. There's no way you could have gotten your DNA on her.”

“They said they already know it's at least a partial match.” He wiped his hands on the knees of his jeans.

“Then they must be lying. The police are allowed to do that when they're questioning a suspect and trying to get him to confess.”

Nick was breathing fast. “I don't think he was lying.” His voice broke. “Ruby, I don't know what to do. I don't know what to think.”

“But you didn't do it, Nick. Right?” Something about him made her doubt her surety.

“What if I blanked it out? What if—I don't know—what if I sleepwalked or something?” He knocked the heels of his hands against his temples. “I don't know what happened. All I know is that they found male DNA on her right hand, and they said that it matches my dad's DNA—and any of his male relatives. Which means me.”

“Your dad? But he's dead. How would they have his DNA profile?” Maybe this was the proof that the cops were lying. Ruby was nearly certain that whatever DNA information the army kept on its soldiers, it didn't go into CODIS, the FBI's DNA database.

Nick put his hands over his face. “My dad's not dead. Not according to Harriman, anyway.”

Even if the detective could lie, why would he tell such a cruel, bizarre lie to Nick? “If he's not dead, then where is he?”

“In prison. He's a murderer, Ruby. Harriman said he beat some guy to death. I guess my mom must have decided to start telling everyone he was dead rather than telling the truth.” Nick let his hands fall. His eyes shone with tears. “And Harriman said whoever left the DNA has to be my dad or one of his male relatives. But he doesn't have any except for us. Which means it has to be me or my brother.”

“Kyle?” Ruby had only met him twice, not enough to weigh whether he could be a killer.

“So that's why I said no to the DNA test. Because once it doesn't match, they'll know it's Kyle. My mom told them Kyle was sleeping when it happened, but when I came home, he wasn't in bed. He wasn't anywhere in the house. I don't know where he was or what he was doing. I do know that if he killed her, it has to have been an accident. If he did it, he didn't mean to. I have to talk to him first. Maybe—maybe give him a chance to run.”

 

CHAPTER 35

NICK

FRIDAY

I WISH YOU HADN'T

As Ruby drove him home, Nick's mind was whirling with images. Of being small and having his dad lift him in the air with big hands. Of Lucy's blood darkening his gloves. Of Kyle running to the bathroom Monday to throw up when the police car screamed by their house. Of Harriman offering him something that looked like a cross between a Q-tip and a miniature scrub brush.

Ruby broke the silence. “Did they ever read you your rights?”

“What?” Nick shook his head, trying to orient himself. His hands lay loose on his lap, but he could feel them still trembling. That lady cop had tried to say it was proof of his guilt, that he wouldn't be shaking and sweating if he wasn't guilty. Of course, he hadn't told her it was because he kept wondering about Kyle.

“Did they read you your rights?” Ruby repeated. “They have to if you're in custody.”

“You mean that whole ‘right to remain silent' thing? No.”

“Then you could have walked out at any time. But they didn't tell you that. And judges use the standard of what the prudent person would think under the circumstances. Not what an uninformed, naive kid would think.”

Nick roused himself enough to say, “Thanks a lot, Ruby.”

“I'm not saying you're naive in general. I'm just saying you are uninformed about the law. Next time ask to speak with a lawyer. Or even your mom. If you're under eighteen and ask to speak to your parent, the law treats that as the same as asking for a lawyer. Either way, at that point all questioning will have to stop.”

“Next time?” Nick swallowed hard, trying to will his nausea away. “There had better not be a next time. If there is, it will be because they're arresting me for that girl's murder.”

“I'm afraid you're going to see them again. Just because you said no to the test doesn't mean they won't come back and force you to take it. All they need to do is write up a warrant and get a judge to sign it. It might take them until tomorrow. So when they show up again, don't talk to them. The only thing you should open your mouth for is to let them get your DNA.”

Ruby seemed so sure of herself, and of him. “How come
you
don't think I did it?” he asked.

“I know you, Nick. And I can't see you coming home from a SAR mission and stopping to murder some girl you caught sight of. It's not logical.”