Snapped (10 page)

Sometimes she found herself stuck in a moment, and her life felt pointless. Insubstantial. As light as dust motes floating through a sunbeam. And all she could think of was,
Why me?
Why had
she
lived when those other women hadn’t?

Survivor’s guilt. She knew what it was. But that didn’t help banish it, didn’t make it go away.

Lately, when it had crept up on her like that, she’d
started to feel angry. Galvanized toward something—although she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. But it made her long for a purpose beyond answering phones at the Delphi Center. She wanted to be part of a mission, part of something that mattered. She wanted there to be a reason why she was here, beyond just dumb luck.

Sophie closed the door, shutting out the broadcast. She leaned closer to the mirror and examined the cut from yesterday. Maybe she
should
have had stitches. But after meeting Robert Kincaid and handing off Becca, she’d wanted nothing more than to get out of that hospital.

Sophie went back to her living room, searching for the ointment she’d picked up at the pharmacy.

“—a team of investigators combed a motel room where Himmel allegedly had spent the night recently,” Rollins was saying. “Meanwhile, yet another team of investigators was on campus today, processing the scene where Himmel’s car was said to have been abandoned.”

Sophie found the cream and returned to the bathroom.

“His green Volkswagen Beetle was seized by police and hauled away for further testing.”

Sophie froze. A green
what
?

She rushed back into the living room, but the broadcast was wrapping up. No footage of the car, the campus—just a bronze-skinned newscaster standing before the camera. Sophie snatched up the remote and turned up the volume.

“Come on, Tom,” she murmured. “Come on, come on, come on. Say it again.”

But Tom was done reporting, and his over-whitened smile beamed into her living room as he signed off for the night.

Jonah emptied another beer in an effort to drown out the day.

“Three a record for you?”

“Yeah.”

“I once did four.”

“Shit.” Jonah looked at his partner. “Drive-by?”

“Nah, this was a triple shooting down in Bexar County, back when I was a rookie,” Ric said. “Drug deal gone bad. When we cornered the perp, he took a shot at one of our officers, too, so it ended up being four.”

“You had to watch the cop’s autopsy?” Jonah shook his head.

“I’d never met him, so they nominated me. Didn’t seem right for one of his buddies to do it.”

Jonah signaled the bartender for another beer, and Ric ordered one, too.

“This round’s on me.” A big hand clapped Jonah on the back. “I knew Walt Graham. He was a good man.”

Jonah recognized the guy from SMFD. El Patio was a hangout for emergency workers of every stripe, probably
because of its location between the cop shop and the firehouse.

“Thanks,” Jonah told him, echoed by Ric.

“I mean it.” Another hearty slap on the back. “You guys went above and beyond.”

The man put some money on the bar and walked off, and Jonah watched him uneasily. He didn’t like all this thank-you crap. People meant well, but it didn’t seem right to get applauded just for doing his job.

He flicked a glance at the television behind the bar, where Headline News was running taped coverage of Noonan’s press conference earlier.

Ric watched the chief and muttered something in Spanish. Jonah didn’t catch the words, but he got the gist. Ric was pissed. As soon as those prints had come back, Noonan had stepped up to the podium and wrapped the case up with a big red bow, even though the police work was far from finished.

Another swig of beer, and Jonah started thinking about the mountain of paperwork on his desk and how early he had to get up tomorrow and how little sleep he was going to get with those autopsies playing through his head. He could still hear the Stryker saw.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Sophie?”

He turned his tired gaze to Ric. “What do you mean?”

“She doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Since when are leggy, big-breasted women not my type?”

Ric tipped back his beer, then set it on the bar. “You want to watch yourself there. That girl’s got issues.”

Jonah stared at him. Even in his brain-fried state,
he realized he was getting relationship advice from Ric Santos, of all people.

“Are you serious, man?”

“Completely.”

“Issues. You mean like boil-a-rabbit-on-the-stove issues? Guy issues? What?”

“You should know,” Ric said, heavy on the disapproval.

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what I said. Watch your step with her.”

Jonah gritted his teeth. He reminded himself that Ric had endured pretty much the same shitty forty-eight hours he had. For that reason alone, he refrained from telling him to mind his own fucking business.

Jonah pretended to watch TV as his temper festered. Ric thought he was taking advantage of a girl who’d been traumatized. Twice. The implication pissed him off—first, because it assumed Sophie was screwed up enough to be taken advantage of, and second, because it assumed Jonah would do that.

But then again, maybe he would.

He
had
gone over to her place last night hoping for some post–near-death-experience sex. He could admit that. But he’d come to his senses and backed the hell off. And anyway,
she
came on to
him
.

Proving Ric’s point that she was traumatized.

Shit. Ric was right. Sophie was vulnerable, and he was taking advantage of her trust. He should leave her alone.

Jonah scrubbed a hand over his face. Goddamn, but he was too tired to even think about it right now. He just needed to get home.

“There you are! God, I’ve been looking everywhere!”

He turned around, and for a second he thought he
was hallucinating. But when he blinked his eyes, Sophie was still standing there, looking flushed and wild-eyed, both hands fisted on her hips. She wore jean shorts with a skimpy tank top and had a purse dangling from her shoulder that Jonah knew from personal experience concealed a LadySmith revolver.

And she was about the least vulnerable-looking woman he’d ever laid eyes on.

“
Where
have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been all over town. Don’t you answer your phone?”

Ric slid Jonah a look.

“And you.” She pointed a finger at Ric. “Mia has no idea where you are. Nobody does.”

Ric gave Jonah an I-rest-my-case look as he got off his bar stool. He pulled a billfold from his pocket and left a twenty on the counter.

“Think I’ll be leaving.” He nodded at Sophie and then carefully stepped around her, as if she might reach out and sock him. It seemed pretty crazy, but … she looked pretty crazy at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” Jonah asked her when Ric was gone.

“I have
important
information for you! I called you twice.”

He hadn’t recognized her number or he would have picked up, even though she’d rejected him just a few short hours ago. Despite her brush-off—or maybe because of it—Jonah had had Sophie and her honey-sweet mouth on his mind all night.

“What are you staring at? Did you hear what I said?”

He pushed his beer away. “What kind of information?”

“It’s about the case. The shooting. James
Himmel
.”

That got his attention, along with about four other cops at the bar.

Jonah studied her more carefully now. She didn’t
look
like she’d been out on a date tonight. She wasn’t wearing makeup, and her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot. And then there was the little tank top, which had been through the wash so many times, Jonah could practically see through it. Not her usual fashion statement—not by a long stretch.

But it was the look in her eyes that worried him. She seemed a little unhinged.

“Let’s get out of here.” Jonah stood up, blocking his buddies’ view of her. They were staring, and he didn’t blame them.

A hot-tempered blonde walks into a bar …

It sounded like the start of a bad joke, and Jonah had a feeling he was at the butt of it. He tossed some money on the bar and took Sophie’s arm to steer her to the door.

When they were outside, he turned to look at her.

“
Now
can I talk?” She shook off his hold.

“Please.”

“It said on the news that James Himmel drove a green VW. You guys towed it from campus and took it into evidence.”

“Okay.”

“I
saw
that car on the street that day, just minutes before the shooting.”

“Okay.”

“He cut me off! He stole my parking space!”

Jonah crossed his arms and gazed down at her. “I’m not following.”

“Don’t you
get
it?” She shook his arm. “James Himmel
wasn’t in the car. Somebody else was. He had an accomplice.”

Sophie zipped through town, running every yellow light between El Patio and campus. She darted Jonah a look as he sat in her passenger seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“How much have you had to drink tonight?”

He scoffed. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well, I need you to get your head in the game. Here.” She grabbed her travel mug of coffee from that morning and passed it to him.

Jonah took a gulp, then scowled. “How old is this?”

“Just a few hours. I need you alert so I can show you.” She whipped into a faculty lot near the registrar’s office and screeched to a halt.

Jonah shoved the mug back into the cup holder. “Let’s go.”

He climbed out, and Sophie followed, slamming the door with a little too much force. She was steamed. Very. She’d laid out her entire theory for him back at the bar and he’d simply stared at her.

“Come here. I’ll show you.” She led him across the parking lot to a street that was normally lined with cars. The university was oddly quiet now, even for summer session. Classes had been canceled until further notice, and many of the students had simply packed up and gone home.

At the intersection of University and Meadowlark, she stopped to glance around. The sidewalk was punctuated by gray parking meters.

“Here.” She stopped in front of a space. “
This
was my spot. He pulled right into it.”

Jonah sidled up beside her and sighed. He gazed at the space, completely nonplussed.

“Why aren’t you on the phone, calling the chief of police or something?” Sophie stomped her foot. “There’s an accomplice on the loose out there!”

Jonah rubbed his hands over his face. “Sophie. This proves nothing. So you saw a car park here. So what?”

“I told you, the timing doesn’t make sense. When I drove by here it was, like, twelve-thirty. The shooting started at twelve-forty. How does someone park a car here and get all the way across campus and to the top of the library in that amount of time?”

“The first shot was at twelve forty-one. A security guard heard it, called it in immediately.” He looked more alert now, as if he’d finally shaken the beer buzz. But he didn’t seem to be getting it.

“The timing still doesn’t make sense,” she said.

“Assuming you’ve got your time line straight.”

She stepped back. “What do you mean, ‘assuming’? I’m telling you right now exactly what happened. Just because I don’t have a badge doesn’t mean I can’t notice something when it’s right in front of my face.”

“And you were looking at your watch every minute?”

“No.”

“So, isn’t it possible you’re off by a few minutes?”

She crossed her arms. “Why are you resisting this? Why can’t you just believe me when I tell you there’s a hole in this case?”

“I would believe you, if there really was a hole in this case. Our guy fingerprinted the car already.”

“And?”

“And there were prints all over it. Belonging to James Himmel.”

“You’re saying I don’t know what I saw?” She couldn’t believe this. “That green Beetle cut me
off
! I yelled at the man inside. I remember it vividly.”

“James Himmel cut you off.”

“It wasn’t him. There couldn’t have been time. This was someone else—someone who must have dropped Himmel off at the library and then abandoned his car on campus.”

“Okay, walk me through it.” He gestured at the empty space. “The VW cut you off. Then what?”

She took a deep breath and made an effort to calm down. “Then I drove around the block.”

“How many times?”

“Once. Still no spaces. So I pulled into a parking garage—that one near the basketball court. Then I walked up the sidewalk a ways toward the registrar’s office. And then the shooting started.”

“And you did all this in ten minutes. You’re sure?”

“Why is that so impossible to believe?”

“It seems pretty unlikely you covered all that ground so fast.”

“I was on my lunch break. I was in a hurry.”