“When can I get out of here?” Stella wanted to leave this house immediately. She had to get out of this room. She couldn’t stay here with Jamie’s body.
“I need to check your vitals and make sure you don’t have a concussion or any other internal injuries.”
“Yeah, he beat the shit—” Millie started, touching Stella’s shoulder and second guessing her words. “I mean, get checked out, El. Be safe.” She sighed. “He did beat the shit out of you.”
“He’s done worse,” she admitted softly, almost to herself. She looked at Jamie’s body, lifeless, on the floor in front of the door. Bile made its way into her throat again and she pushed it down with everything she had.
“How many fingers am I holding up?” the EMT asked. “Stella. How many?”
Stella looked away from Jamie to the EMT. The EMT’s eyes were sad. Stella wondered if they were sad for her or if the EMT had a sadder story. Not fucking possible.
“Four,” Stella answered, closing her eyes and trying to block out the image of Jamie’s face.
“Good.” The EMT continued to check everything while Stella sat quietly and Millie cried. “Okay. I think you have a concussion; you’ll need someone to watch over you tonight and make sure you’re okay.”
“Will do.” Stella stood up, wobbled, and grabbed onto the wall for support.
“She’s staying here,” Millie said.
The EMT nodded and then headed toward the ambulance.
“I can’t stay here, Millie. You can’t stay here. This...”
Millie grabbed Stella’s hand. “You’re right, El, what the fuck was I thinking? We’ll go to your house.”
“I don’t want to drag this circus to my house just yet.” She sighed and looked at the flashing lights outside and knew the media was a few steps away.
“Okay… You’re right, we’ll just get a hotel room. I’m staying with you, wherever you are, El. I’ve already called Patrick and George. They’re both trying to get flights home immediately.”
Stella smiled, so thankful for her friend. “I need to get out of here, Millie. I have to... I... I can’t see this anymore. I have Jamie all over me. I can’t...” Stella felt something in her break apart and tears began falling down her face. I thought I’d broken everything inside me already; again there’s more.
“Ms. Murphy?” A young officer walked up to her, holding several evidence bags. “We’re going to need your clothes. You’ll need to come with me.”
Her brain was trying to process what he was telling her to do.
“Okay,” Millie answered for her. She took Stella’s hand and led her to Patrick’s room. “El? Sir, I’m going to take her in here and take her clothes off, okay?”
“No, that’s not protocol, I’m going to have to do it.”
Silence.
“No fucking way,” Millie retorted, giving the young cop her back-the-fuck-off glare. “I’ll take them off.”
The officer looked around for someone to help him, but everyone seemed caught up in their own portion of the investigation.
“El, come with me. We’ll get your clothes off and I’ll give you new ones.” Millie tried to comfort her friend, patting her shoulder reassuringly. “It’ll be easy as pie.”
“Ma’am, I can’t let you do that.” The officer was firm.
“Oh really? What’re you gonna to do to stop me?” Millie took Stella by the hand and pulled her into her room. Cooper was on the floor wagging his tail and eating the bone that Jamie had given him like there wasn’t a dead body a few rooms away. “El, I’m going to take your clothes off and put them in this bag.” She walked to her closet and pulled out some jeans and a T-shirt. “Here, you can put these on.”
Stella was looking at her, but all she could see was Jamie’s head blown apart. Fuck.
“Ma’am, at least wear these gloves, please.” The officer shoved some latex gloves at Millie, then stood in the doorway, watching.
“Hold your hands up.”
Stella did as she was told mechanically. When she lifted her arms up, something warm and reddish dripped off the sleeve and onto her head. She thought about vomiting again.
“Skin the cat,” Millie said as she pulled Stella’s shirt carefully over her head, trying not to get any of the blood and skin on Stella.
“What?”
“What?” Millie asked, confused.
“What did you say about a cat?” Stella questioned.
“Oh, my grandmother used to say that to me when she took my shirt off.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Mil.”
“I guess it doesn’t.” She chuckled. “Made you laugh, though. Can you get your pants? I don’t have any sayings for that.”
“I got it.” Stella wrenched off her soaked jeans and put them in the bag.
“Put those clothes on.” She pointed to the clothes she’d put on the bed. “Here you go.” Millie shoved the bags at the cop and gave Stella another glance before pushing him into the hall and closing the door behind her.
Stella pulled on Millie’s jeans; they were sort of tight and she didn’t think she could button the button. She took them back off and rummaged through Patrick’s things to find some workout pants. She slipped those on and pulled the drawstring to tie herself in. Then she put on the t-shirt Millie had given her. It was royal blue and read, “This is what awesome looks like.” Stella almost laughed at the irony of it and opened the door. She ran smack into Agent Harris.
“We should stop meeting this way, Stella.” His eyes gave nothing away as he took her in.
“Agent Harris, what’re you doing here?” She stepped backward back into Patrick’s room. Anger boiled inside her fear, inside her confusion; her mind was in so many places she had no idea what to think.
“Well, you know I got reassigned after putting the guy involved in the terrorist attack in Montana away, and then I was leading the investigation that you were involved in. When they shut that down, I got promoted and just happened to be in the neighborhood when I heard the police radio. Then I got the call about an ATF agent shot at this address, so I thought I’d swing by, see if I could help.”
She just stared at him; gawked, really. Her brain wasn’t working properly; every time she closed her eyes just to think, she saw Jamie. Why do I feel bad? I wanted him gone. Regardless, she sure as hell didn’t want to talk to this FBI asshole. Agent Fucking Harris threw her under the bus. All she wanted was a shower. “You were promoted…” she repeated. “Swing by? You just happened to be in the fucking neighborhood?”
“Well, interesting things always seem to happen around you. I thought I’d move close.” He smiled; it made her uncomfortable. “I’ve got some questions for you.” He motioned toward the kitchen table.
“Hold on just a minute!” an older City of Alexandria police officer called from the den. “This isn’t your jurisdiction.”
“Federal agent shot!” Harris called back. “I believe it is my jurisdiction.”
“Fuck, that’s a federal agent?”
“Yep.” Agent Harris took out his notepad and pen.
“Well, can we at least let one of ours sit in for the witness interviews?” the cop bargained.
“You bet. I always want to work with the locals.” Agent Harris nodded. “You ready, Stella?”
“I have blood all over me. Do I look fucking ready for an interrogation?” Stella erupted.
“Let me just get a preliminary statement from you and then we’ll get you out of here. The media is going to shit themselves with this one.” His tone was sympathetic but his eyes were alight with interest; it wasn’t every day this sort of case came around. Also, Jamie’s death solved many problems, for the ATF and the FBI...
Her thoughts turned inward and she felt utterly lost and completely defeated. “Let me grab a water and sit down,” she agreed.
Millie got water for everyone and they all sat at the kitchen table: Stella, Millie, Agent Harris, and the older Alexandria cop.
Stella to
ok a gulp of water and motioned to Harris. “Ask away.”
“Tell me what happened,” Agent Harris said.
“Millie and I were watching some chick movie and Jamie busted through the back door. He wanted me to come with him; seems he found out about my conversations with you somehow.” Her eyes narrowed at him. “He punched me, then threw me on the floor of the den on the table.” She pointed at the broken table and wine on the floor and the wall.
“Wait. Did he throw you on the floor or the table?”
“The table. It broke and I landed on the floor. I think. It’s hard to remember everything clearly when you’re getting your ass kicked.”
“Jamie?”
Stella shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Jack.”
“You get any shots in?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Wine bottle to the chin I think.” She looked at Millie. Millie nodded in agreement.
“You see all this?” Harris asked Millie.
Millie nodded again.
Harris turned to the officer. “Take her to a separate room and interview her.” He looked back at Stella. “What next?”
Taking another gulp of water, Stella watched Millie walk to the front of the house with the officer. Her mind was going a mile a minute and she was trying to quiet it, trying to count and breathe, but her body was betraying her, her hands starting to shake and her legs feeling weak.
“He was forcing me out the front door and I was just about to brace my legs on either side of it. I wasn’t leaving with him, you know? Then I heard a weird sound, felt something wet on my face, and he let go of me. When he let me go, I looked down and realized parts of his face were on my face. Then I passed out. The end.”
“The end,” he mimicked.
“Yep.” Stella stood up. “Can we go now? It’s been a very long night and I’m pretty sure I have a concussion. If you need anything you can call my attorney, Greg Cotter.”
“Stella, did you see where the shot came from?”
She shook her head.
“Did you see anyone in front of the house?”
She shook her head.
“Do you need my attorney’s number?” She started walking to where Millie stood speaking with the cop.
“Stella?” Harris called, stopping her.
“Yes.”
His eyes softened. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, then give me, Millie and Cooper a ride home. It’s the least you can do for our fucking troubles.” The night, the week, the years all began pressing on her as she stood there; she needed to escape. All of her defenses, all of her fake smiles, they couldn’t help her now.
“Where’s your car?” he asked, putting his pen in his pocket.
“Cooper and I walked; he needed some exercise time,” she said, looking at Cooper, still comfortable as could be on the floor of Patrick’s room with his new bone.
“Sure, but you know I’m going to need for you to come to the Department tomorrow to get the rest of your statement.”
“Fine. I just want to get out of here. I want a shower.” Stella was shaking and desperately trying to hide it. She walked to Millie’s room and pulled on one of Patrick’s hoodies. It was huge and smelled like him; she shoved her hands in the pockets to hide her trembling hands. Her lip was threatening to shake and her body racked with anxiety, fear, and utter devastation. She sobbed loudly and then covered her head with both her sleeved hands.
Agent Harris put his hand on Stella’s back and led her out of the house, navigating around officers and the coroner. I’m about to lose it. She passed Jamie’s body and dry heaved again; her stomach cramped and seized with nothing left to vomit. Millie was quiet as she followed Stella and Agent Harris down the block to his car. Cooper sat in the back with Stella and Millie rode in the front of the dark sedan. There was no attempt at conversation and every once in a while, Stella would sob into her hands. Millie was staring straight ahead, either in shock or eerily calm.
“Thanks for the ride.” Stella was barely able to articulate words as he pulled up in front of the house. “You have my number, but officially go through my attorney.”
“Stella, honestly, I’m really sorry.”
She nodded, numb. Oh, please bring on the numb. She stood there dazedly, watching his lights disappearing into the night.
“El. Come on, let’s get inside,” Millie coaxed softly.
Stella’s feet began moving toward the door, then she realized she left her purse. “Fuck. I left everything; my keys…” her voice broke.
“I got your purse.” Millie thought enough to grab a bag for herself and Stella’s purse before they left. She handed Stella the keys and they walked into the quiet house. It was quite a change from the bustling bodies and blue lights they’d just left at Millie’s.
Once inside, all three of them stood in the den for a full minute, not knowing what to do, not looking at each other. Cooper eventually walked into the kitchen to get water. Stella sighed and looked at Millie.
“I’m sorry, Mil.” Her voice was low and rough, fighting to keep emotion out of it.
Millie took a few steps and closed the gap between them, standing a few inches from Stella and grabbing her hands. “Don’t you ever be fucking sorry for that psycho bastard.”
“I didn’t want you to have to deal with any of this. I just can’t seem to free myself of the crazy. Why?”
Millie shook her head full of pity. “I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure you’re done having to deal with that crazy.”
“I’m going to get in the shower and wash my ex-fiancé off my face.” She laughed hysterically for a few seconds. “Who the fuck has ever had to say those words?”
“You’ll be okay, El,” Millie comforted.
“I don’t think so, Mil. Not this time.” They started up the stairs, Cooper following them closely. “The sheets are clean. Make yourself at home.”
“El, I love you,” Millie said as she walked in the guest room and closed the door.
Stella slowly undressed and stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror. Shock kept the feelings and emotions at bay; she had cried, but it was that detached crying that came with life-changing events. She turned the shower on as hot as it could get and closed the glass door behind her. Stella stood in the shower silently, letting all the blood, wine, and pieces of Jamie wash down the drain. She felt pieces of herself break off and flow away with the blood; the hope she’d had the last few weeks dropped into the drain. The wholeness she’d felt a few weeks ago, filled with the love she felt for George, disappeared along with the blood, the water washing it out into the sewer.
Getting out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, then wandered around the room and bathroom, packing a small bag. She threw jeans, shirts, underwear and bathing suits in her bag, making sure she grabbed her Wonder Woman shoes from Key West. She opened her medicine cabinet, hoping she’d just misplaced the remainder of her stomach medicine. The pill bottle in the cabinet was empty. Fuck. She dressed quickly and put Patrick’s hoodie back on; it comforted her for some reason. She shoved her feet in her running shoes and motioned for Cooper to go downstairs.
Looking in at Millie, she shed one more silent tear. Stella quietly wrote a note hoping that Millie wouldn’t worry too much when she woke up alone. She tiptoed in the room and put it on the bed next to her friend. Her head was buzzing with panic; she couldn’t be here when the media started clambering for pictures of her as a broken, devastated mess. She needed to leave. Now.
Stella padded down the stairs with her bag and Cooper’s things, put everything in the car, and walked, almost zombie-like, back inside. She stopped and leaned onto the bar, bracing herself for what she was about to do. Easing her ring off her finger, her eyes caught on her tattoo. Only you. Stella gave the ring one more glance before she laid it on a piece of paper that basically said, “I love you, that’s why I can’t stay.”
Cooper ran all around
her, making sure she didn’t leave him. She petted his head as she locked up the house and opened the passenger door for him. “See, Coop, I’m not leaving you.” Her voice was low and full of sobs she was trying to hold back.
Stella sank into the seat of her car and cried. This was it. This had broken her for good. She wasn’t fit to be around George. She wasn’t fit to be around anyone—she’d almost gotten Millie hurt by association. She didn’t even know how to be normal any more. She knew she wouldn’t be able to do her job. Jamie was dead and it was her fault. It was his fault, too, of course, but to have the death of someone literally on her was something she just wasn’t prepared for and she didn’t think it was something she could ever come back from. Stella came to grips with the fact that she was losing everything, just like she always knew she would.
She opened the garage door and squeezed her eyes closed, attempting to gather resolve, then reversed out of the driveway. She drove automatically until she finally reached I-95. Taking the ramp onto the highway, she released a breath she’d been holding. George. Her mind was having a hard time reconciling what she was doing. Her conscience was telling her it was the wrong thing to do, that all George had ever done was love her, fissures and all, but she just couldn’t stay.
She drove for four hours until she’d just reached North Carolina. It was a little after three am when she spotted an Econo Lodge sign and took the exit, pulling the car into the parking lot off the side of the office. She walked in and asked if there were vacancies. The older gentleman behind the desk eyed her warily.
“Yep,” he told her, “be $69.99 plus tax for the night.”
Stella pulled out money from her purse, handed it to the man, and waited for her key. She had to go back to her car and drive around to the back side of the motel where her room was located. “Come on, Coop.”
Stella looked around, feeling unsafe, and then forced herself to relax. No one knew she was here. Hell, she’d just decided to stop at this place ten minutes ago, and she had Cooper. He’d protect her. They entered the room and she didn’t even take in the smell of cigarettes or the dirty towel hanging from the counter in the bathroom; she simply collapsed on top of the bed, a bed she typically would be mortified to even touch. Cooper jumped up next to her and put his head on her belly. They slept.
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