bookssland.com » Other » What Doesn't Kill Us--A McKenzie Novel by David Housewright (most read books txt) 📗

Book online «What Doesn't Kill Us--A McKenzie Novel by David Housewright (most read books txt) 📗». Author David Housewright



1 ... 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 ... 84
Go to page:
a nun listening to a smutty story. “It’s just that we’ve never been questioned by the police before. It’s kinda scary.”

“I get that a lot.”

Shipman didn’t admit that it was one of her favorite things, frightening the unsuspecting.

“You said you were a friend of McKenzie’s?” Emma asked.

“Yes. The man you met two days ago at CakeWalk.”

“You know about that?”

“Was it supposed to be a secret?”

“No. Not a secret. Just…”

“Private?”

“Yes.”

“What is this about?” Elliot asked.

“You don’t know?” Shipman said.

Elliot glanced at her friend again and slowly shook her head.

“Where were you at eight thirty last night?”

“Here.” Emma was too quick to respond, Shipman thought. “We were right here.”

“In this exact spot?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Burton Hall,” Elliot said. “We were in our dorm room.”

“Doing what?”

“Studying,” Emma said.

“Eating,” Elliot said.

“That’s right. I had a teriyaki turkey burger with grilled pineapple and onions.”

“I had eggplant parmesan with mushroom risotto. We bought it at Sayles Hill Café.”

Shipman told herself that the food had changed since she went to college.

“When did you buy your meals?” she asked aloud.

“I don’t know,” Emma said. “It was late. Eight?”

“Did you pay cash?”

“No,” Elliot said. “We have what they call a OneCard. It’s like a debit card except that it also allows you to enter buildings and stuff. You put the money for your meal plan on the card and then when you go to eat you order what you want and swipe the card.”

“There should be a record of what you bought and when you bought it then,” Shipman said.

“So you can check.” Emma seemed relieved that there was a way to verify her alibi. “That would prove that we were here, right?”

“It would prove that someone used your card. Never mind that. Where were you at six P.M.?”

“Last night? Here,” Elliot said. “In Burton. Studying. We have midterms this week.”

“I’m going to ask you that question again, later,” Shipman said. “But first—you’re wondering what this was about. Someone shot McKenzie in the back at approximately eight thirty P.M. last night outside of a club in St. Paul called RT’s Basement.”

Elliot was looking at Emma when she said, “Oh my God.”

“What happened?” Emma asked. “Is McKenzie all right?”

“He’s in a coma at Regions Hospital,” Shipman said.

“He didn’t die?”

“I’m told that he’ll recover.”

“Thank God.”

“Why thank God?”

Emma hesitated before saying, “He seemed like a nice man.”

“Emma,” Elliot said.

Emma rested a hand on her hand.

“It’ll be all right,” she said.

“Will it?” Shipman asked.

“You said McKenzie will recover.”

“What if he doesn’t? Besides, there’s still the small matter of who shot him in the first place. There’s the matter of who lured him to RT’s Basement so he could be shot. Have you been to RT’s?”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Emma said.

Shipman turned her eyes on Elliot who merely shook her head.

“What does that have to do with us?” Emma asked.

“With you, I don’t know. With her…” Shipman gestured at Elliot.

The young woman began to tremble and Shipman was surprised that she actually felt sorry for her. She didn’t know why. She never felt sorry for suspects, especially rich college kids. It had taken Shipman years to pay off her student loans.

“Where were you at six P.M. last night?” Shipman repeated.

Elliot shook her head some more only this time the movement was so slight that you might not have noticed unless you were watching closely.

“What does that mean?” Shipman asked. “You don’t know or you refuse to answer?”

Elliot shook her head again.

“See, McKenzie received a message at six P.M. It was delivered to the security desk in the building where McKenzie lived. A few minutes later, McKenzie left the building. A couple of hours after that, McKenzie was shot.”

Elliot kept shaking her head, only now Shipman was sure that it was just part of her overall trembling.

“The reason I’m here is that I have witnesses who claim that the message was delivered by a pretty blonde who said her name was Elliot.”

Elliot covered her mouth with both hands and turned toward her friend. Emma gave her nothing, though.

Again, Shipman felt a pang of guilt. She had lied to the young women, or at least hadn’t told them the entire truth; that the video would seem to prove Elliot’s innocence. She had wanted to see how they responded, though. To be honest, I might have done the same thing.

“Tell me about this, Elliot,” Shipman said.

“I can’t,” Elliot said.

“Convince me that you had nothing to do with my friend getting shot.”

My friend, Shipman thought. Where did that come from?

“I can’t,” Elliot repeated.

“Leave her alone,” Emma said.

“Ladies, think about this,” Shipman said. “Think about how much trouble you’re in, Elliot.” Shipman gestured at Emma. “You, too, if you’re covering for her.”

Neither of them had anything to say.

“You have the opportunity to do yourself some good. I’d wish you’d take it.”

They didn’t have anything to say to that, either.

“Elliot,” Shipman said. “Elliot, look at me. Sometime tomorrow I’m going to take my witness statements to a judge. The next time you see me, I’ll have an arrest warrant in my pocket. I won’t be asking you questions; I won’t be asking to hear your side of the story. Instead, I’ll be telling you that you have the right to remain silent and that anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. I’ll wind a pair of stainless steel handcuffs around your wrists and lock you in the back of a patrol car and transport you to St. Paul where I will turn you over to the county attorney for prosecution.”

Elliot began to weep. Emma pulled her close enough so that she could rest her head on Emma’s chest.

“Stop it,” she said.

“I can’t even imagine what might happen to a pretty little thing like you in prison.”

“You bitch,” Emma said.

“You have no idea,” Shipman said. “Elliot.” Shipman softened her voice. “I’m pretty sure that you didn’t shoot McKenzie. I’m pretty sure you were in your dorm room eating your eggplant whatever when the shooting took place just like your cousin says. I’ll check

1 ... 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 ... 84
Go to page:

Free e-book «What Doesn't Kill Us--A McKenzie Novel by David Housewright (most read books txt) 📗» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!
Add a comment