Read Blood Trail for Free Online Page B

P.M.? ”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œDo you know who killed Aaron Gingrich?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œDid Aaron tell you who he was afraid of?”
    My heart lurched. “No.”
    â€œJeremy, is there anything pursuant to the death of Aaron Gingrich that you are not telling me?”
    â€œNo.” Sweating.
    â€œOkay. You can open your eyes.” He deflated the cuff on my arm. “Do you want to take a break before we do it again?”
    Yeah, I sure did. I could see the last couple of questions on the graph paper, my lines jumping practically off the edge, but he didn’t say a word about it. He didn’t say anything after I came back from the bathroom, either, just hooked me up and we did it all over again. The exact same questions. I started sweating before he even got to the one …
    â€œDid Aaron tell you who he was afraid of?”
    I tried to say no, but I knew it was no use. I bent over in my chair and hugged my head in my hands.
    The detective said, “Jeremy?”
    â€œOh, shit.”
    I think he shut off the machine, and then, I swear to God, he hunkered down in front of me and put his hands on top of mine—his hands felt warm. He said, “Open your eyes, son. Look at me.” I did, and I saw nothing in his face except sympathy. “Just spit it out,” he said. “Who was Aaron afraid of?”
    â€œNathan,” I whispered.
    â€œWhat, exactly, did Aaron say?”
    By then I understood what a polygraph machine was for. After he got the whole story out of me, he nodded, stood up, and started to take the tubes and stuff off me. He asked, “Why didn’t you tell us that before?”
    â€œBecause Nathan didn’t do it! He couldn’t have!”
    â€œThat’s for the investigators and the jury to decide, son, not you or me. What you’ve done is called withholding evidence, and that’s a crime under the law. I’m not going to file charges against you, but I could.”
    Not even trying to be smart, I said, “Honest to God, I really don’t care.”
    He eyed me, then nodded as if he understood. “Start caring again,” he said. “Have you been beating up on yourself, son?”
    â€œHuh?”
    The word hurt. Huh, hell, pay attention , Aaron would have said.
    The detective said, “Have you been telling yourself you could have saved him?”
    What the hell, did this guy have ESP? I stared at him, and I guess he saw the answer in my face. He nodded.
    â€œProbably you couldn’t have done a damn thing,” he said. “When you’re in my business, you see that trying to be a hero doesn’t stick it. They say hindsight’s 20/20 but really most of the time it’s a liar. Wishful thinking.”
    â€œReally?”
    â€œReally. So don’t you put yourself down, son. You’re just a good kid, doing your best, like most of us. I want you to remember that.”
    He made it sound like an order. I nodded.
    â€œYou got to take care of yourself,” he said, “because things are going to get worse before they get better.”

chapter seven
    He was right about that.
    Close to midnight the phone rang. I was actually sleeping, too, damn it. Whenever anybody phones late, it’s usually for me, so I stumbled out of bed. Actually, I was hoping it was Dad, calling late because he keeps strange hours. I barged into the brat’s room, where she was lying like a lump upside down on her bed, with her head where her feet should have been, and I grabbed her phone. “ ’Lo?”
    It wasn’t Dad. A man’s polite voice said, “Is this Jeremy Davis?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œYou goddamn liar, you ought to be shot.” It was so sudden, the way his voice turned from polite to hateful, I just stood there stunned like he’d really put a bullet in me, which was stupid. I mean, I should have known something like this might happen. It’s impossible to