“He claims he didn’t mean to push her. He was trying to get her attention and grabbed her book bag. Max didn’t leave the scene and started confessing before she hit the first step. There’s no reason not to believe him.” Rafe could still see the kid. He’d practically been crying. It had only taken a phone call to discover he didn’t have a police record, not even a speeding ticket. He was, however, a student in Janie’s Monday/Wednesday class—Rafe remembered interviewing him—and one of the few students who had known both Brittney and Derek.
In class, he palled around with Amanda.
Rafe checked his watch and then looked out the hospital room’s window at the setting sun.
“And you believe him?” Katie asked.
Had they been at the station, or back at the school, Rafe would have refrained from giving an opinion. Too often the picture of innocence was an illusion. But in this case... “I believe him.”
Katie pulled her chair closer to Janie and stroked her sister’s arm. She probably wasn’t even aware she was humming a lullaby.
Janie resembled her big sister in many ways, except Janie was a bit taller, more willowy, graceful.
Exactly what Rafe preferred.
Janie wasn’t moving. Her blond hair lay listless against a white pillow. The color of her face matched the pillow. All traces of makeup had been wiped away, and with a start, Rafe realized how little she needed the makeup.
Not with her eyes. Through this whole ordeal, they’d been a vibrant testimony to annoyance, anger, indignation, disbelief, realization, fear and quite a bit more.
Camaraderie?
He hated that her eyes were closed now and she wasn’t sitting up, narrowing her eyes at him and sharing her opinion on what just happened.
Rafe had been at the college, but he’d missed the most important part: the actual fall. He’d heard the commotion and gotten to her side, praying all the way, just as she’d landed. Janie had been barely conscious. A thin drop of blood had slowly dripped from the corner of her mouth. She hadn’t been moving, but she’d managed to say, “Somebody pushed me,” before he shushed her.
He had to give Nathan credit. He’d arrived in minutes and had done what Rafe should have been doing. Even after Max’s confession, the detective had pushed the crowd back and was taking names within a minute. The dean of students had called for an ambulance.
Rafe’s eyes had been on Janie and only Janie. His hands had been reaching for her yet afraid to touch her.
He’d felt helpless. Not his usual reaction.
From the moment Janie unwillingly walked into his office, this criminal investigation had taken on a life of its own. One very different from the usual missing-persons case. And Janie Vincent wasn’t a typical witness. She’d already managed to worm her way into his world with her drawings of imagined crime scenes and attention to detail like the green shoe.
He stood on the other side of her hospital bed. He touched her hand, so small and cold. Cupping it in his, he traced her fingers and then lifted them and gently kissed each one.
“Rafe?” Katie began.
“I’m so glad she didn’t break her arm or anything that would keep her from her art. She’d hate that.” Maybe if he changed the subject, Katie wouldn’t mention what she’d just witnessed.