I liked Plank. He was fresh out of the academy and still had a little shine on him that would eventually get tarnished with cynicism and distrust in another year or two.
“Hey, Plank,” I said. “Long time no see.”
“I’ve been working a lot of details over the holidays,” he said. “Trying to save up.”
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. “I heard through the grapevine that you and Wachowski were getting pretty serious.”
His face turned scarlet all the way to the tip of his ears. “We…umm.” Sweat dotted his upper lip and he looked back and forth between me and Jack.
“Geez, Plank,” Jack said. “We’re not your parents. Lighten up.”
“Yes, Sheriff,” he said, nodding. “Officer Wachowski and I have decided to move in together. We’re saving up for a house.”
“Gosh,” I said, widening my eyes. “Isn’t there a rule about fraternizing with co-workers? Unless the two of you are just roommates, of course.”
Plank somehow managed to turn even redder, and Jack just shook his head, his lips pressed into a hard line. “I guess we’ll have to address this at your review.”
It was hard to keep a straight face. Jack could lie like nobody’s business. And as long as he wasn’t lying to me, the skill came in handy from time to time.
“Of course,” I said, looking at Jack. “There is the marriage clause, right Jack?” And then I turned back to Plank. “If y’all got married maybe your personal business wouldn’t have to be paraded in front of the review board.”
“I asked her to marry me,” Plank burst out, panic in his eyes. “But she said no. She’s a little gun shy about marriage. I’ve got to take baby steps. But maybe I can get her to change her mind.”
I could practically see the wheels turning in Plank’s head.
“Relax, Plank,” Jack said, clapping him on the arm. “We’re only teasing. As long as you both do your jobs, your business is your own. Does your mom know y’all are planning to move in together?”
With that jaw-dropping question, Jack moved past a paralyzed Plank and opened the door of the athletic director’s office. That was the blessing and curse of living in a small town. Everyone knew everyone else’s business, and Plank’s parents were about as uptight and small town as you could get.
“Poor kid,” I said, after the door was shut behind us. “Between his mother and Wachowski, he’s not going to know whether to unzip his pants or run to the altar.”
Jack nodded toward the hunched figure in the corner, staring aimlessly out the window. He looked like a boy—hunched in on himself and afraid. He was still dressed in costume, and his right hand was handcuffed to the desk chair he sat in.
“Dwight Parr?” Jack asked.
There was no response. Not even a flicker in his facial expression that he knew we were there.
I moved around Jack and sat across from Dwight on the padded window seat. I was a little taken aback by the professionalism of his makeup. The blue veins spreading from his neck and up his face looked real. A black wig lay on the desk, but Dwight still wore the wig cap, though it barely covered his reddish shock of natural curls. His eyes were a pale blue, and his pupils were barely a pinprick of black.
He showed classic signs of shock.
“I don’t know, Jack,” I said. “He might need to seek medical treatment before we get anything out of him.”
I leaned forward so I could get in his direct line of sight and held up my fingers to see if he’d track with his eyes. He didn’t.
“Dwight, I’m Dr. Graves,” I said softly. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to take your pulse.” His skin was pale and I reached out and took his wrist, placing my fingers over the sluggish pulse in his wrist. His skin was clammy and his movements were slow. “Do you know where you are?”
He blinked and his eyes stayed closed long enough I thought he’d fallen asleep. But then he opened them again and looked directly at me.
“Kevin,” he said, his voice broken. “I killed Kevin.”
Chapter Three
I looked at Jack, but Jack’s eyes were narrowed and there was a crease between his brows. The problem with being a cop was understanding that everyone was a liar and everyone had an angle. People mostly believe they’re telling the truth, but they’re telling the truth that generally paints them in the best light.
This wasn’t our first murder case, and considering human nature, it wouldn’t be our last. We’d sat across from some of the most violent and vicious killers one could imagine and watched as they lied convincingly right to our faces. I’d felt empathy and compassion for some of them, almost positive they were innocent until the evidence had piled up against them. I wasn’t so quick to judge now.
The longer we did this job, the harder it was to trust anyone. The difference between me and Jack was my medical training. It was ingrained to take care of people first and ask questions later. But I’d learned in working with Jack that it was always the person in the body bag who had priority, and I could tell from the set look on his face that we’d be questioning Dwight Parr, come hell or high water.
I let out a quiet sigh and noticed the watercooler over in the corner. “Maybe you could grab him a cup of water,” I said.
Jack nodded and set the bagged sword down on the desk, and then came back seconds later with a paper cup of water.
“Dwight,” I said. “Drink some water for me. We need to talk about Kevin.”
“Kevin?” he asked. “I killed Kevin.”
He looked down at the cup I was trying to wrap his fingers around and he noticed his other wrist was cuffed to the chair.
Jack took the seat next to me. “How did you kill Kevin?”
“I…” He stopped and stared at his water. “I don’t know. My sword. It must have killed him. But the judges inspected it. It’s never done that before.” His head tilted and he was staring at something off in the distance.
“Dwight,” Jack said, his voice hard enough that I winced. “Focus. What do you mean it’s never done that before?”
“It’s never done that,” he said. “And it killed Kevin. I killed Kevin.”
“Listen to me,” Jack said. “Was Kevin your friend?”
“S…sure,” he stuttered. “He was my suitemate freshman and sophomore year. My best friend.”
“I’m going to ask you some hard questions and I need you to answer them truthfully so we can find out what happened to Kevin.”
“Kevin’s dead,” Dwight said, and a single tear leaked from the corner of his eye.
“That’s right,” Jack said, nodding. “And Kevin deserves our best—to find out what happened to him. Accidents happen. But we all have to take responsibility for our actions.”
Dwight gave a barely perceptible nod and made eye contact with Jack. “He was my friend.”
“I believe you,” Jack said. “What’s your name?”
“Umm…Dwight,” he said. “Dwight Parr.”
“What’s your major, Dwight?”