INK: Fine Lines (Book 1)

by Bella Roccaforte

  Chapter Eight

  Insecure

  Aiden

  When Eli reaches the observation room he ticks his head at Mark. “Thanks, man.”

  Shay presses her tiny fingers flat on the window. I match my hand with hers. Maybe I can send her some comfort. Maybe she can at least know I’m here for her. She’s looking up with a sad smile, too far up for her to be thinking about me. I drop my hand and look over at that tall fucker Eli.

  “Glass just came in and he’s on the way to question her.” Mark looks from Eli to me and back again. “Can you two play nice?”

  I can play nice. I imagine a round of ‘beat the Eli’ would be nice. Eli looks at me and then nods, fucking boy scout.

  Mark walks backwards to the doorway. “Be good or I’ll lock you both up.”

  As soon as Mark is out the door I move swiftly to Eli, pressing him up against the wall with my proximity. “Keep your hands off of her, Eli.”

  “Aiden, seriously, if you don’t stop it I’ll have you arrested for assaulting an officer of the court. You’ve made it clear that we aren’t friends anymore. I’m fine with that, but please understand that I only ever put up with your bullshit for her.” Eli stands up straight to remind me of the difference in height and looks down at me. “Back off, man. I can do a lot more to help her right now than you can.”

  I shake my head, taking two steps backwards as a smile spreads across my face. “Yeah, well, I’m home now, so things are in their place. You’ve crawled back into your bottle. I’ve crawled back into her bed.” I shrug, staring into Eli with challenging eyes.

  Eli’s jaw clenches as he draws in a slow breath. “Aiden, I promise you if I had been there with her last night she wouldn’t have been out in her studio, so she would have had a real alibi.” Eli raises his eyebrows, returning the challenge.

  I push my forearm into Eli’s throat, slamming him into the wall. We’re both on fire with rage, both at a loss for words. Detective Glass enters the room. “Aiden Roth, twice in one day. What the hell are you doing in here? And why are you assaulting one of my district attorneys?”

  I grudgingly release Eli and step back. “Hey Brandon; we were just having a chat.”

  “Aiden, don’t push me. I’m not in the mood to deal with your impulse issues. It was bad enough I had to have you thrown out of the crime scene. You need to be in the hallway.” He comes to a stop at the window, peering in at Shay. He begins to size her up then glances in our direction, twisting his expression. “Gentlemen, really, much ado about nothing.” He disappears into the room.

  “Fuck him; he doesn’t know her.” I catch myself saying out loud. I look at Eli and he digs a smile into one side of his cheek.

  “I will agree with you there,” Eli says as he watches her with fondness.

  I’ve got to put an end to this shit, or I’m going to lose her for good.

  Chapter Nine

  Innocent Until Proven Bitchy

  Shay

  The door opens and I freeze. He’s beginning his study on me, creating my portrait parle. It’s time I do the same: size up the enemy.

  Tweed suit, old but well kept. No wedding ring, no hair, no facial hair—just nicks from his razor—was probably once handsome, good shoes but worn, fingernails clean but not manicured, glasses that look like some hybrid military issue sticking out of his pocket. Only needs them for reading, or is too proud to admit he needs them at all. Sad, jaundiced eyes, probably due to the amount of alcohol he has consumed over his lifetime. Classic hard-working detective a few years from retirement. He just wants the truth. I decide that’s what he’ll get regardless of Eli’s legal advice.

  Wishing I could see inside his mind, I try to figure out his thoughts of me. What assumptions has he made other than that I’m a murderer?

  “Miss Baynes.” He hasn’t taken his eyes off me since he entered the room, as though I may dissipate in a puff of smoke. He rests a thick folder on the corner of the table and motions for me to sit. “I’m Detective Glass.”

  Still lost in my own image in the mirror, trying to reverse engineer his impression of me, his words seem distant until I hear the sound of the chair scraping across the floor. I sit, trying to decide how I will respond.

  Eli’s words are creeping up on me, so for the time being I’m going to let the detective do the talking.

  “Do you know why you are here?” He sits, sliding the folder in front of him.

  Oh he thinks he’s so clever, trying to lure me in to spill everything, but as I see it there is no reason not to be truthful. “Not really.”

  “You have no idea at all why we would want to question you about Mr. and Mrs. Messner.” He leans forward, unblinking, as though he’s diving into my thoughts.

  “Yup.” I don’t blink. It’s strange; I should be terrified, but something inside me is taking over, making me feel as though I’m in control. Essentially he is the one deciding whether or not I go home today, yet I feel completely steady and unafraid.

  “Well, then let’s get down to business. Where were you last night?” He seems almost relieved, but he’s moving forward cautiously.

  “What time?” I had a busy night last night.

  “Just tell me step by step what you did last night.” He desperately would like to write something down in the notepad he just opened, but I’m not cooperating. I don’t like the way he’s looking at me. He wants to pin whatever’s in that thick folder of his on me.

  “Actually, Officer Glass, why don’t you tell me why I’m here.” The ‘officer’ bit is meant to rattle him. I want him to just get to the part where he sprawls all of the photographic evidence they have against me across the table like it’s the fur of ten thousand baby seals that I singlehandedly slaughtered with my trusty loofa. I’ve never felt so in control of such an out-of-control situation.

  “It’s Detective, and let me be clear with you.” He leans across the table, too close to my face for comfort. “Those two morons out there may think you’re cute, but I’m not impressed. I have two dead bodies on my hands and all roads lead straight to you.”

  Maintaining my unwavering stare, I lean toward him as well. Something deep within me has taken charge and is speaking for me. “And let me be clear with you, Detective. You are traveling dangerously down the wrong road in so many ways.”

  “Are you threatening me?” His tone is incredulous.

  “Do you feel threatened, Detective?” I tip my head to the side, batting my eyelashes.

  Eli’s surge of panic from behind the window is nearly palpable. Somehow I don’t think this fits into his version of “don’t say anything.”

  The detective draws in a long breath, slides his glasses onto his nose and opens the folder. He begins to splay out the photographs, arranging pictures of the crime scene with corresponding comic panels. It’s creepy how much my comic really does look like the crime scene. The images on the table are from my dream. How can this be?

  I’m horrified by the images of Alice; she’s broken and she died with a terrified look on her face. I can’t help but break down a little. “Alice.” It escapes me as a whisper.

  “So you knew them?” A proclamation that he has the upper hand simply because I’m rattled. Maybe he does.

  “Yes,” I answer quietly, but there is something tugging inside me to say more. I’m still shocked at what I’m seeing. I do see the resemblance in my panels to the crime scene. But it isn’t Gary and Alice in the comic.

  “I understand you had problems with them, some sort of land dispute. Tell me about that.” He’s referencing his notebook.

  “What are you talking about? I didn’t have any problems with them.” That was a lie. Gary was an epic asshole. He was so unkind to Alice, and I’m sure he hit her. He and I had our issues.

  “According to several police reports, you had problems with Mr. Messner.” He looks me in the eye.

  “He killed my dog, he was a bastard, but I didn’t kill him.” My tone is curt.

  “When wa
s the last time you saw them?” he asks quickly.

  “Yesterday.” I’m quick to answer.

  “Why did you see them yesterday?” He’s trying to quick fire on me, raising his voice like my dad did when he was trying to bust me for sneaking out or skipping school.

  “Alice asked me to come over for my birthday. She made cupcakes.” I can’t take my eyes off of Alice’s terrified stare.

  “So you admit you were there.” He slams his finger down on one of the photos.

  “Yes.” I just told him I was there.

  “Why did you kill them?” His voice is booming through the room, he’s in my face.

  I stand up fast, knocking the chair to the ground and putting my hands down on the scarred table. “Listen to me, asshole, I didn’t do this. If you had half a brain cell in that thick skull of yours you could put two and two together and see that it is an impossibility.” I walk around the table to stand next to him. “It would have been physically impossible for me to lift Alice like that, and I wasn’t there.”

  The sensation of control courses through me but the words still don’t feel like my own. “I don’t know why you have developed some bizarre hard-on to pin this on me, but you are barking up the wrong tree. As a concerned citizen who happens to live down the street from where this happened, I would rather you actually find the killer and stop screwing with me!” I pause, waiting for him to say something. I feel like I may have said too much already. Somebody please stop my verbal regurgitation.

  “Miss Baynes, I can assure you that I know exactly what I’m dealing with here.” He looks hard into my eyes with his nose nearly touching mine.

  My stance completely unwavering, I fire back, “Clearly you don’t have any actual physical evidence against me or you would have arrested and charged me already.” I move my finger over one of the photos of Gary’s dismembered body. “And you, Detective, just like Gary, don’t have a leg to stand on.”

  The door swings open. “Shayleigh! Let’s go. Wait in the hallway.”

  “Yes, Daddy.” I’m still nose to nose with Detective Glass as a smile spreads across my face.

  Before I leave Glass gets up in my face, surprising me. “They may think you’re some helpless girl they have to protect, but I know better. The real question is, who will protect them from you?”

  Glaring coldly at him, I leave the room.

  ***

  In the observation room I see Aiden and Eli. I’m really not in the mood for testosterone tug-of-war with me as the rope. Eli stands in front of the window, pinching the bridge of his nose. Aiden just stares at me with his mouth hanging open.

  “Shay, what was that? I told you to say nothing.” Eli can’t even look at me.

  Aiden, for the first time ever, is speechless. He’s shaking his head, looking at me like I’m a dead man walking. After a moment of the two of them gaping at me in astonishment I fill in the blanks for them. “I got tired of him.” I say it flatly, matter of fact.

  Aiden looks at Eli as if asking him to explain what just happened. Eli looks back at him as though he has a secret. Maybe he does. I don’t give a shit what either of them think.

  My father emerges from the interrogation room, his eyes wide. He walks over to me and gives me a big hug. That’s when I start to break. “Shayleigh, you need to tell me everything, but not here.”

  I hate when Dad pulls that scathingly calm tone on me. It makes me feel like I’m five and he’s found my torched Barbies and we’re going to have another ‘talk.’

  “Dad, I didn’t do this.” The tears are getting too heavy in my eyes. I know I need to keep it together until I get out of here.

  “Shayleigh, I don’t think you did.” He hugs me tightly again. “I’m going to have a real talk with Detective Glass. I’ve already cleared it with the new captain. They’re going to let me take a look at the files.”

  Eli steps over to us, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get you home; we can talk there.”

  “I’ll take her home,” Aiden interjects.

  “Aiden, I’m taking her home.” Eli looks directly at me when he says it. Looking at the two of them makes me feel so torn. The emotions are like a boulder in my stomach. My life is hanging in the balance and they are going to have a pissing contest about who gets to drive. I think I’m going to pass.

  I close my Dad’s hand around mine. “Daddy, can you please take me home.”

  “Sweetheart, I need to stay and talk to the detective.” He looks apologetically into my eyes. “Eli, I’d like you to take her home. Get her something to eat.”

  Aiden exhales hard then pleads his case. “Harry, I am perfectly capable of taking her.”

  Dad drops my hands and walks over to Aiden. “Eli is taking her home. We have it from here. You can go.” He starts for the interrogation room.

  Aiden stops him. “Harry, what’s going on here?” Not being the golden boy is getting to him. “You’re going to let this drunk take her home?”

  Harry turns to him. “Aiden, part of the terms of her not being charged with this just yet is that she’s being released to my custody. I don’t trust you to get her home. I don’t trust you, period.”

  Aiden looks to me as though I’m going to defend him, but all I can do is shrug. Eli puts his hand on my back, ushering me down the hallway. Eli typically isn’t the sort to gloat, but I still catch him turning around to Aiden with a grin that says all it needs to in order send Aiden over the edge.

  Aiden walks quickly to catch up. “I’ll follow you and meet you at your house.”

  “Aiden, I think we’re okay. You should go home.” I’m enjoying cutting him out of this process the same way he constantly cuts me out of his life every time things get serious between us.

  “I’ll pick up a Box ’O Joe. Do you want any donuts?” Aiden acts as though I haven’t spoken.

  Eli hangs his arm around my shoulders, tugging me in tighter, hoping to shield me from the insanity that is Aiden.

  “No Aiden, I don’t want any donuts.” That man infuriates me to no end.

  ***

  Things aren’t perfect with Eli these days. My Facebook relationship status is currently set to ‘single,’ but that’s only because I got tired of the perpetual ‘it’s complicated’ status. Eli is incredibly sweet, tall, and a complete package with cutting good looks. The sky could never wish to be as beautiful and blue as his eyes. He always looks put together and sharp, like he’s just stepped out of GQ.

  I’ve watched him grow into an amazing man in so many ways. He matured so much through college and law school from the awkward prepubescent boy he was when we met. There are only two problems with Eli: first, he’s an alcoholic; and second, he’s not Aiden.

  Eli almost always makes me feel completely safe; it’s as though nothing can really hurt me when he’s with me. He is strangely calm and level-headed in most situations. Sometimes it feels surreal how calm he is when the rest of the world is crumbling to bits. I love him desperately, but I can’t get past his unwillingness to admit he has a drinking problem.

  We step outside to a ‘Chamber of Commerce’ February day in Florida. The sun is blinding and warm. The ground is harsh on my bare feet, and I wince.

  Eli looks down, grimacing at my lack of shoes. “I can carry you to the car.”

  Aiden looks up at Eli, rolling his eyes. I offer, “If you could pull the car around I would appreciate avoiding the walk through the parking lot.” Just stepping outside the police station lightens my mood, but my feet walking in filth has also returned to the forefront as an issue.

  Eli takes off for the parking lot, and Aiden stays with me. He turns to me with a hurt look in his eyes. “Shay?” he asks quietly. “Do you really want me to leave?”

  “Aiden, I already know you are going to do what you want. If I tell you not to come, you will probably come anyway, and if I tell you to come then I’m sure you’ll be on the next flight to Timbuktu.” Why does he have to do this to me? Honestly, part of me wants him th
ere. That’s why I can’t just say no to him, but that’s always been the problem with Aiden.

  He tries to pick up my hands but I jerk them away. “No, Aiden, last year you made your choice and it wasn’t me.” I can certainly recognize that I’m a work in progress and that I’ll always love him, but the simple fact is, “I can be broken without you just as easily as I can be broken with you. And I’ll only get better without you.”

  Eli pulls up to us in a black Mercedes CLK and steps out to open my door. He shoots Aiden a look as I get in the car. I roll the window down. “Aiden, I’ve decided I really want you to come to the house, I need you there.” My voice is heavy with sarcasm. “Tell me what the weather’s like in Timbuktu this time of year.”

  Aiden watches in disbelief as the car pulls away.

  Chapter Ten

  Home Again and Again

  Shay

  I inhale the new-car smell. “When did you get a new ride?” It seems so trivial.

  “About a month ago.” He shifts into the next gear, showing off. He knows how much I love to drive fast.

  “What was wrong with the old one?” I ask curiously. His other car was only about a year old.

  “I had an accident.” He says, looking straight ahead at the road. “The insurance company totaled it.”

  “Wow that sucks. I’m glad you weren’t hurt. Why didn’t you call me?” It hurts that he didn’t call me. Jealousy rolls around inside me as I wonder who he did call.

  Eli moves uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding my question by starting in on Aiden. “Shay, I really don’t know that Aiden will have anything good to contribute. Harry and I need to work through this.” Good ol’ reliable Eli, always trying to remain calm. He, of course, doesn’t understand what I was saying to Aiden. Then again, I can’t put it past Eli to thwart Aiden at every turn. He’s just smarter about it than Aiden is. Eli is the Thinker. Aiden is the ocean’s surf, pounding jagged rocks until they yield into smoothed stones.