Ch. 14: Suspicion

Con wasn't surprised when he glanced down to find a shallow cut across the back of his hand, just below his knuckles. Mostly, he was just scared. He stared down at the unexplainable cut, his jaw clenched so tight his teeth ached.

The sound of the car door made him jump. He turned just in time to watch Ella bail out and sprint toward the hotel. Swearing, he fumbled with the door, flinging it open before running after her.

His longer strides caught her halfway across the lawn and, by then, he knew what had sent her running.

Taemin stood on the porch, surrounded by police officers. His hair turned from red to blue and back again in the light of the patrol cars. Their headlights threw the blood on one side of his face, neck and hands into stark relief.

Is he hurt? Is any of that his blood? Why are they all just standing there?

Instead of grabbing Ella to stop her, Con fell into step beside her. When one of the officers—Con recognized Morris in a flash of red—moved to stop her, Con darted forward to block Morris' path. His knee screamed as he twisted away from the officers and flew up the steps. 

Taemin took a step back before she could touch him. "I'm fine," he said softly, adding something in Korean. His obsidian eyes flashed over her head, meeting Con's gaze. He tilted his head before repeating himself. "I'm fine. It's not my blood."

A wave of relief Con didn't care to analyze too closely washed through him.

A cleared throat made Con turn to find Sheriff Jones watching everything. A few of his deputies hovered just behind his shoulder, and Con stepped forward, placing himself squarely between the officer and the Parks.

"I wish I could say it was good to see you, Sheriff."

Jones raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "I get that a lot."

"What's going on here?" Ella demanded over Con's shoulder. "Why are you keeping my brother standing here drenched in blood?"

"That's part of what we're trying to figure out, ma'am," Jones said. "Your brother was the one who found the body. You have to understand when we get a call about a body and find someone with blood all over him, there are steps we need to take."

"Steps?" Ella said, sounding pissed. When she stepped around Con, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her from getting any closer to the sheriff. "What do you mean steps? Steps for what?"

"To make sure I'm not the one who killed her," Taemin said, his voice light enough to make Con wince. He leaned around Con's shoulder. "Because I didn't kill her."

"We just need to get some things sorted," Sheriff Jones soothed, holding up his hands in placation. He took a step forward, eyes darting from Con to Ella to Taemin. "I'll be honest with you—with the state the body is in, I already find it exceedingly unlikely that Mister Park could be responsible."

Ella's muscles went rigid under Con's hand. "Then why do you need to ask questions?" she said, her calm voice belying the tension running through her body.

The sheriff sighed, turning weary eyes to Con. Like maybe he would be more reasonable.

"It's just what they do, El," he said. "They just have to make sure they check all the boxes, get an idea of where everyone was. And they probably need to pull some of the blood off Taemin as evidence. It's not because he's in trouble." He leveled a hard stare on the sheriff. "Right?"

Sheriff Jones only hesitated for a second, but it was enough to make a surge of worry pulse through Con. "As of right now, no," Jones admitted. "As I said, the state of the body—"

"What exactly is the state of the body?" Con asked.

"Ripped apart," Taemin said, his warm breath brushing Con's neck. "Like something had tried to eat her."

Con narrowed his eyes at the sheriff. Then he turned toward the trees crowding in along the property's edge. "What kind of predators do you have around here, Sheriff?"

The sheriff pursed his lips, obviously displeased with the direction this conversation had taken. "Usually nothing bigger than foxes...but, every now and then, we might get a bobcat or even a bear."

No one spoke for a long moment. The silence was broken by the rattle of a gurney. Everyone turned to watch as two men with jackets labeled 'coroner' pushed it past, heading toward a van parked just behind the patrol cars.

"Excuse me," Jones muttered. He motioned for one of the officers—an older man with a classic cop mustache—to stay with them. Then, he and the other two officers began to make their way toward the coroner's van.

Con flinched in surprise when Taemin rested his unbloodied cheek on his shoulder, pressing against him.

"I'm sorry," Taemin murmured. "I'm just cold. The blood is getting cold."

Without thinking, Con shrugged out of his heavy coat. He turned, draping it over Taemin's shoulders. He looked back at the officer who had been left with them. "Is your forensics team here?"

The officer nodded, burrowing into his own parka as a cold breeze whipped around them. "Let me call them over," he said, giving Taemin a reserved but sympathetic look as he spoke into the radio hooked on a harness over his shoulder.

As they waited, Ella began speaking to Taemin under her breath. In Korean.

Con frowned at the unfamiliar language. Every now and then Taemin would shake his head, responding with a low hum. Ella crossed her arms, eyes narrowed. She said something that lilted up at the end, like a question.

Taemin's head snapped up, his hands balling into fists. His eyes flashed as he answered her, his words fast and angry. The tips of his ears flushed red and he kept talking until Ella put her hands on his shoulders.

"Okay," she said, switching abruptly back to English. "Okay. I know that's—" She glanced at Con, cutting herself off.

Taemin glared at her before turning toward Con. "I was out walking. I found her on the trail. I saw the blood before I tried to turn her over to see if I could help. When I tried to turn her over... She was still alive enough to try and hit me." He gestured to the blood smeared on his face and neck.

From the corner of his eye, Con found the officer scribbling everything being said into a little notebook.

"I didn't kill her," Taemin said, eyes wide, begging for Con to believe him. "I wouldn't do something like that." His gaze slid to Ella, who hesitated a moment before nodding.

One of the forensics team joined them, a swab and its corresponding container clutched in gloved hands. The woman stepped up onto the porch.

"Excuse me," she said, giving Con a dismissive glare. Her gaze lingered on Ella for a moment before she turned to Taemin. "I'll need to get a couple swabs." 

Taemin offered his bloody hands. "Then can I please go shower? This is cold. And sticky."

"Yes," the forensics woman said, her voice short. She eyed Taemin critically a moment. "Your sweater."

Taemin blinked, looking down. "It's...cashmere?" He frowned. "Also, ruined now."

"I'll need to collect it as evidence." She swabbed Taemin's left hand, then his right, his cheek and his throat, using a new swab each time. She gestured for his sweater. "If you don't mind."

Her tone made Con scowl. "A 'please' wouldn't burn a hole in your tongue."

The look she shot him was so venomous he thought it might burn a hole in him. A weight landed on his shoulder, and he looked down to find his coat hanging there. Taemin lifted his bloodied sweater carefully over his head, revealing a lot of lean, well-defined muscle.

And skin dyed red with blood.

He handed the stained sweater over to the forensics woman. She didn't give him so much as a second glance when she stepped down from the porch and made her way across the lawn. Con shook his head.

"Maybe people would like the police more if they were nicer," he muttered, turning back to Taemin and offering his coat again. 

Shivering, Taemin snatched it from him. "To be fair, the sheriff's been very nice."

"Yeah, nice enough to keep you out here, freezing to death," Ella said. She turned to the officer. "Can I get my brother inside now?"

The officer wore a small frown. Again, he spoke into the radio on his shoulder, asking for the sheriff. When he responded, the officer asked if they needed anything more from Taemin. There was a brief, crackly silence. Then the sheriff responded: "Not tonight."

"Okay, Mister Park," the officer said. "You're free to go."

Ella didn't need any more encouragement. She wrapped her arm around her brother, hustling him into the hotel. Con nodded at the officer. "Thanks."

"You have a good night, sir," the officer said, then grimaced.

"You too," Con murmured before following Ella and Taemin inside. They were trudging up the stairs, heads bent together. Again, Con caught snatches of angry Korean darting back and forth between the siblings.

Then, Ella stopped and turned. When she saw Con, relief lit her face. "Can you stay with him?" she asked, jerking a thumb at her brother. "I...need to get something out of the car."

"I can get it," Con offered. "You can stay with him."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here," Taemin grumbled.

"No," Ella said, ignoring her brother. "I can get it."

"But—"

She slipped past him, darting back toward the door, leaving Con to gape after her. He turned back to Taemin. "What does she need? Why wouldn't she just let me get it?"

Taemin just shrugged and began climbing the steps again. "Probably making sure I'm not lying," he muttered, not quietly enough.

Con trailed along after him. Taemin was shivering so hard Con was almost afraid that he'd fall. Neither spoke as they made their way to the third floor. Taemin stopped at a door two down from Con's and started to take off the coat.

"Just keep it. You're still cold." he said. "You...don't have a shirt on."

Taemin smirked, though it was a little weaker than usual. "Not disappointed, I hope?" He let his eyes slide to Con's chest. "I know I wasn't."

He couldn't help the soft snort that escaped him. "Keep the coat. It probably needs to be dry-cleaned."

Taemin gave him a mock-offended look. "You're just saying that because I'm Asian."

"I'm saying that because you got blood all over it." Con gave him a wry smile. He turned to go, taking a few steps toward his room, but something pulled him to a halt. Some...instinct.

He looked over his shoulder to find Taemin staring at a portrait hanging on the wall. Shadows swirled up around him, coalescing into humanoid shapes that reached forward with spindly fingers. Taemin closed his eyes.

"No!" Con hissed, fear closing his throat. 

The shadow figures dissolved into nothing, and dizziness swept over Con as his mind tried to keep up with his madness. 

"I hear drinking alone is unhealthy," Taemin said, his voice soft, almost uncertain and very uncharacteristic. "But I could really use one and...I think Ella might be gone for a while." He laughed, though the sound was humorless. "She doesn't believe me, you see."

Con hesitated, frowning at that, but the desolate expression on Taemin's face wouldn't allow him to just leave. That, and the questions beginning to clutter his head.

"How about you clean up, first," Con said, walking back toward him. "Then we'll see about that drink."


Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: AzTruyen.Top