The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) (11 page)

“Whoa, everything is spinning. Just stand
still a minute, okay?” he slurred. After he felt steadier to her,
Christine led him to the bedroom where she helped him undress and
put him to bed. When she pulled the covers over him he grabbed her
arm. “Don’t tell anyone I’m here,” he said, his eyes closed.

“You need a doctor, Trevor.”

“No, not yet! Someone tried to kill me,
Christine. I don’t trust anyone… except you. Just let me rest for a
while.” He drifted off to sleep.

Christine paced the length of the living room
and back again trying to decide what to do. If the police thought
Trevor was dead, then so would whoever tried to kill him. Maybe
keeping his presence secret was the best course of action for
now.

She filled a bowl with warm water and a
splash of peroxide. On top of a shelf in the bathroom was a pile of
washcloths, and she grabbed the entire stack. Sitting on the edge
of the bed she could see how pale Trevor looked and it worried her.
Counting on her previous training, she gently washed the wound.
When Trevor didn’t even flinch, she got more aggressive and
thoroughly cleaned the gash, removing a splinter of wood and set it
aside. After she was satisfied the wound was clean, Christine
applied two butterfly strips, some antiseptic gel, and a gauze pad.
Then she washed his face of the soot and grime. He looked beautiful
to her, fragile and vulnerable. She emptied the bowl of dirty water
and slid into bed next to him.

***

The days passed slowly. Trevor roused long
enough each day to drink some broth and for Christine to help him
to the bathroom. His dreams were a mix of scorching heat from the
fire and comforting heat from, from… he wasn’t sure, but it was
nice and soothing. He slept and he healed.

***

Christine felt the heat at her back and
smiled, knowing Trevor’s arm was holding her to his chest.

“Good morning. You smell good,” Trevor
nuzzled her neck. She snapped fully awake and sat up. “Oh, don’t
go, this feels good,” he said drowsily.

“Trevor,” she said softly, “how are you
feeling?” She knelt on the bed and lifted one of his eyelids, then
the other. His pupils were back to normal, and his forehead was
cool to the touch, a vast improvement from the last couple of
days.

“Hungry,” he said, opening his eyes again to
see Christine hovering over him.

“That’s really good to hear. How does your
head feel?”

“Much better, though it still hurts some. I
think what I’d like more than food right now is a shower.” He
wrinkled his nose.

“If you promise not to keel over, that can be
arranged.” Christine helped Trevor sit on the side of the bed to
get his equilibrium back while she got fresh clothes set out for
him. He stood when she held out her hands to him, grasping them
tightly.

***

“I don’t think a shower has ever felt so
good,” Trevor said, walking into the kitchen where Christine was
scrambling eggs. “I do need to ask, whose clothes am I
wearing?”

“My dad’s. I raided his closet. The sweats
are a little short on you, but you’re a couple of inches taller
than he is.” Christine set a plate of food in front of him and went
to pour more coffee.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked, taking a
scoop of eggs.

“I will. Right now I need to know what
happened, Trevor?”

“First, how long have I been out?”

“It’s been five days since the fire. Everyone
thinks you’re dead. The chief came to tell me about two hours
before you showed up. He was really upset.”

“Five days. It must have been a real shock to
see me at your door if you thought I was dead.”

“That’s an understatement. It was the best
shock I could have asked for though,” she grinned. “Tell me what’s
going on? Who tried to kill you and why?”

“I can’t answer all of that, I’m sorry. I’m
sure it was Riley who set the fire and bashed me in the head. I
don’t know why though. I had always considered him more than an
employee, and I trusted him with everything. There was someone else
there, and I think it was Officer Johnson, though I’m not a hundred
percent sure. I
am
sure it was a cop.” Trevor pushed his
empty plate away. “Think it’s okay for me to have some coffee?”

The front door bell rang, startling both of
them.

“Stay out of sight while I see who it is,”
Christine said, heading to the front door. She opened it. “Chief
Mallory. What can I do for you?”

“Sorry to intrude, Miss Tiggs. I thought you
should know we found the store van,” he said.

“I didn’t realize it was missing.”

“That was the part that was bothering me. At
first we all thought Trevor had died in the fire, which has been
confirmed as arson. Then we discovered the van was missing. It
crossed my mind that Trevor torched the place for the insurance and
took off, however, that’s just not him. I know him too well.” The
chief took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thinning
hair. “We found the van this morning in a field about ten miles
outside of town. It had been torched, and there was a body in it
that fits Trevor’s description.”

Unable to stay quiet any longer, Trevor
stepped into the living room. “Well, Marty, it
wasn’t
me.”

The chief jumped to his feet. “Trevor!” he
rushed over and hugged the younger man. “You’ve got some explaining
to do!”

“Why don’t you join us for coffee, Chief? I
think Trevor should stay off his feet,” Christine said, leading
them back into the kitchen.

Trevor went over the entire story again for
the chief, leaving out the part about the scout car and the second
person.

“And you’ve been here since then?” Marty
questioned.

“Here and out like a light,” Christine
confirmed. “Trevor showed up an hour or two after you were here.
The cut on his forehead is healing nicely, after I took a splinter
of wood out. He had a severe concussion. I wanted to call a doctor,
but Trevor refused to go, knowing someone had tried to kill
him.”

“I understand. I don’t agree, but I
understand. My guess from everything you’ve said, Trevor, it’s
Riley’s body in the van and it was Riley who set the fire and tried
to kill you. Then who killed Riley?”

The question hung in the air.

“I can’t help you on that, Chief, I got quite
a blow to the head,” Trevor said.

“If you don’t mind, I’m calling Doc Adams. I
think he should check you over. No offense, Miss Tiggs, I’m sure
you took care of Trevor as best you could, but he should be seen by
a doctor now.”

***

“You’ve had excellent care, my boy,” Doc
Adams said, flicking his penlight in Trevor’s eyes. He had taken
his blood pressure, listened to his lungs and heart, and examined
the healing cut. “I might have put in a stitch or two, but these
butterflies worked just fine. Nice job, Miss Tiggs.” He stood and
closed his black bag. “Keep watching for the headaches and nausea,
and if anything changes, call me.”

“I don’t like wearing
your father’s underwear, Christine. It’s… creepy,” Trevor said
loudly. “Let’s go shopping so I can buy some new clothes.” Trevor
took the pouch from his battered backpack and tossed it back in the
corner.

They wandered the resale shop and found
Trevor some jeans that he liked, along with a warm jacket. He
insisted on going to the nearest Walstroms to get new underwear and
socks, fresh t-shirts, and a pair of boots.

“I feel better now.” He grinned at Christine
while she drove.

“Where to next?” She didn’t tell him how much
she loved shopping. It was obvious she was having a good time, even
though none of the purchases were for her.

“The bank. I should make this deposit and
confirm that I’m alive,” Trevor said. “I must have been really
tired the night of the fire. I didn’t even take my wallet out of my
pocket like I usually do. At least I’ve got all of my ID.”

***

“Mr. Monroe, I’m so happy to see the rumors
about your death were false. Please come in my office,” the branch
manager said. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve got a deposit from last week that any
teller can handle. What I would like to know is if there’s been any
activity on the accounts?” Trevor leaned on the desk. The manager
typed in a few commands and turned the screen for Trevor to see.
Nothing. Trevor breathed a sigh of relief seeing all of his
accounts were still safe. “Thanks. My computer was lost in the
fire, too, so I couldn’t check. I plan on fixing that today, so
don’t be concerned if you see activity again, I will be back
online.”

“Next stop, a computer store,! Trevor said.
“I’ve worked my entire life to save money to make more money. I
never realized before how much fun it is to
spend
it!”

***

Christine cleared off one of the work
stations that wrapped around three walls in the third bedroom. This
was the office she and her dad shared. Trevor took over a large
section of the desk. The new computer cost double what it should
have since prices had double or tripled across the board for
everything, and Trevor had reluctantly paid the outrageous price.
He plugged the new machine in, and then plugged in the hard drive
from his go-bag, vowing to never be without that pack ever again.
His new cellphone was on the charger. Although he was able to get
his previous number back, he had lost all of his contact numbers.
Fortunately, those were in a file on the thumb drive and he spent
an hour repopulating his contact list.

While Trevor got his new computer functioning
to his liking, Christine worked at the other station, checking her
email and her bank accounts. She confirmed that the dental clinic
had deposited her last check. They had also sent her a notice that
her services were no longer required. She had been fired. At least
her final check had been for a full month, along with the expense
report she had filed for mileage and damage to her car.

***

“I’m actually feeling normal again,
Christine. Let’s celebrate!” Trevor said. “How about dinner at that
sushi place?”

“I’ve got a better idea. Let’s get it as a
takeout and celebrate at home,” she said with a mischievous
grin.

Christine stretched
sleepily and rolled over to face Trevor. The morning sun was just
reaching the pillow he had scrunched under his head. She smiled.
Their lovemaking the night before was more than she had dreamed of.
Even though Trevor was an exceptional lover, she also knew it had a
lot to do with the way they felt about each other. It had been a
long time since she had been this happy.

***

Trevor’s new phone buzzed.

“I better answer this, it’s Marty,” he said.
“Good morning, Chief.”

“You sound chipper today, Trevor. Do you feel
up to coming into the station to give a formal statement?” Chief
Mallory asked.

“Of course, what time?”

***

Trevor and Christine walked into the dimly
lit police department hand in hand. Deputy Johnson came out to
greet them and to direct them to a small, windowless room, with
walls of dull pale green.

“You can start by telling me everything you
remember about the night of the fire,” Johnson said, turning on a
voice recorder.

“And you can start by telling me where Chief
Mallory is,” Trevor said politely, adding a friendly smile.

“I’m taking your statement,” Johnson
reiterated.

“That wasn’t what I agreed to. I’d like to
see Martin. Now.”

Johnson’s jaw clenched and twitched. He stood
and walked out of the room.

“What was…” Christine started to ask, and
Trevor shushed her. He picked up the voice recorder and turned it
off.

Trevor glanced at his watch, giving Johnson
two minutes to return. After five minutes, he stood, took Christine
by the hand, and walked to the lobby. After another five minutes,
they quietly left the station.

“What was all that about, Trevor?” Christine
asked once they were outside in the gloom of the afternoon. A storm
was approaching, and by the chill in the air, it would hit
soon.

“Remember that I told you I heard a second
voice that night? I’m sure now it was Johnson,” Trevor said. “I
didn’t tell Marty about it at first because I wasn’t positive. I am
now. I will not put you in any danger and I won’t keep looking over
my shoulder either. Marty needs to know that one of his men is
dirty and likely a murderer.”

“Murderer? You think Johnson killed
Riley?”

“Who else would it be? They were in the
robbery together.”

“There you two are,” Chief Mallory said
walking up to them. “Why did you leave?”

“Marty, there’s more to my statement than I
first told you, and you’re not going to like it. There was a second
person with Riley that night, and I’m sure now it was Officer
Johnson. I can’t and won’t give a statement to him.” Trevor paused
to gather his thoughts. “It might even be possible that Johnson
killed Riley.”

The chief scowled. “What makes you think it
was Johnson?”

“That night a second voice was familiar but I
couldn’t place it, not even after seeing the scout car leave my
parking lot. When I heard him today, I knew it was him. Marty, what
are we going to do? I won’t jeopardize Christine or myself.”

“I understand and I wouldn’t want you to.
There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate, dirty cop.” The
chief emitted a troubled sigh. “Come back in and follow my lead. I
have a plan.”

Seated in the same room, Trevor and Christine
whispered quietly together about dinner plans. When Johnson came
back in, Trevor smiled.