Tess Gerritsen - Bloodstream

“I need you to be honest with me, son,” said Lincoln. “I’m not trying to play tricks on you. I’m not trying to trap you. I just have to know where you drove the truck last night, and what happened.”

“Who says I drove it anywhere?”

“The pickup has obviously been out of the barn. There’s snowmelt under it.”

“My mom-”

“Your mom was driving the Subaru last night, Noah. She confirms it.” Noah’s gaze shot to Claire, and she saw the accusation in his eyes. You’re on his side.

“Who gives a shit if I did take it out for a drive?” said Noah. “I brought it back in one piece, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“So I drove without a license. Send me to the electric chair.”

“Where did you drive the truck, Noah?”

“Around.”

“Where?”

“Just around, okay?”

“Why are you asking him these questions?” said Claire. “What are trying to get him to say?”

Lincoln didn’t answer; his attention remained fixed on her son. That’s how far he’s pulled away from me, she thought. That’s how little I know this man.

Welcome to the morning after, the hard light of regret.

“This isn’t about a simple joyride, is it?” said Claire.

At last Lincoln looked at her. “There was a hit-and-run accident last night.

Your pickup truck may have been involved.”

“How do you know that?”

“A witness saw your truck driving erratically and called it in. It was on the same road where the body was found”

She sat back in her chair, as though someone had shoved her. A body. Someone has been killed.

“Where did you take the pickup last night, Noah?” Lincoln asked.

Suddenly Noah looked terrified. “The lake,” he said, almost too softly to be heard.

“Where else?”

“Just the lake. Toddy Point Road. I parked for a while, on the boat ramp. Then it started to snow too hard, and we didn’t want to get stuck there, so I-I drove home. I was already here when mom got back.”

“We? You said we didn’t want to get stuck.” Noah looked confused. “I meant me.”

“Who was in the truck with you?”

“Nobody.”

“The truth, Noah. Who was with you when you hit Doreen?”

“Who?”

“Doreen Kelly.”

Lincoln’s wife? Claire stood up so abruptly her chair toppled backwards. “Stop it. Stop the questions!”

“They found her body this morning, Noah,” Lincoln continued, as though Claire hadn’t spoken at all, and his quiet monotone barely disguised his pain. “She was lying at the side of Slocum Road. Not far from where the witness saw you driving last night. You could have stopped to help her. You could have called someone, anyone. She didn’t deserve to die that way, Noah. Not all alone, in the cold.”

Claire heard more than pain in his voice; she heard guilt. His marriage may have been over, but Lincoln had never lost his sense of responsibility toward Doreen.

With her death, he had taken on the new burden of self-blame.

“Noah wouldn’t leave her there,” said Claire. “I know he wouldn’t?’

“You may think you know him.”

“Lincoln, I understand you’re hurting. I understand you’re in shock. But now you’re lashing out, trying to assign blame to the nearest target.”

Lincoln looked at Noah. “You’ve been in trouble before, haven’t you? You’ve stolen cars.”

Noah’s hands clenched into fists. “You know?”

“Yes, I do. Officer Spear called your juvenile intake officer down in Baltimore “So why are you bothering with the questions? You’ve already decided I’m guilty!”

“I want to hear your side.”

“I told you my side!”

“You say you drove around the lake. You also drove out to Slocum Road, didn’t you? Did you realize you’d hit her? Did you ever think to get out and just take a goddamn look?”

“Stop it,” said Claire.

“I have to know!”

“I won’t have a cop interrogating my son without legal counsel!”

“I’m not asking this as a cop.”

“You are a cop! And there’ll be no more questions!” She stood behind her son, her hands on Noah’s shoulders as she gazed straight at Lincoln. “He has nothing more to say to you.”

“He’ll have to come up with answers eventually, Claire. The state police will be asking him all these questions and more.”

“Noah won’t be talking to them either. Not without an attorney”

“Claire,” he said, anguish spilling into his voice. “She was my wife. I need to know.”

“Are you placing my son under arrest?”

“It’s not my decision-”

Claire’s hands tightened on Noah’s shoulders. “If you’re not arresting him, and you have no search warrant, then I want you to leave my house. I want you and Officer Spear off my property.”

“There’s physical evidence. If Noah would just come clean with me and admit-”

“What physical evidence?”

“Blood. On your pickup truck.”

She stared at him, the shock like a vise crushing her chest.

“Your truck was driven recently. The blood on the front fender-”

“You had no right,” she said. “You had no search warrant.”

“I didn’t need one.”

The meaning of his words was instantly clear to her. He was my guest last night.

I gave him implied permission to be here. To search my property I allowed him in my house as a lover, and he’s turned against me.

She said, “I want you to leave.”

“Claire, please-”

“Get out of my house!”

Slowly Lincoln rose to his feet. There was no anger in his expression, just profound sadness. “They’ll be coming to talk to him,” he said.

“I suggest you call an attorney soon. I don’t know how likely it is you’ll find one on a Sunday morning He looked down at the table, then back up at her. “I’m sorry. If there was any way I could change things-any way I could make this turn out right…”

“I have my son to think of,” she said. “Right now he has to be my only concern.”

Lincoln turned to Noah. “If you did anything wrong, it will come out. And you’ll be punished. I won’t have any sympathy for you, not one bit. I’m just sorry it’s going to break your mother’s heart?’

The men were not leaving. Claire stood in the front parlor, gazing out the window at Lincoln and Floyd, who lingered at the end of her driveway. They are not going to leave us unguarded, she thought. They’re afraid Noah will slip away Lincoln turned to look at the house, and Claire stepped back from the window, not wanting him to see her, not allowing even the briefest eye contact. There could be nothing between them now. Doreen’s death had changed everything.

She went back into the kitchen where Noah sat, and sank into the chair across from him. “Tell me what happened, Noah. Tell me everything.”

“I did tell you.”

“You took the pickup outlast night. Why?”

He shrugged.

“Have you done this before?”

“No “The truth, Noah.”

His gaze shot up, dark with anger. “You’re calling me a liar. Just like he did.”

“I’m trying to get a straight answer out of you.”

“I gave you a straight answer, and you don’t believe me! Okay, fine, believe what you want. I take the truck out every night for a joyride. Rack up thousands of miles-haven’t you noticed? But why would you? You’re never home for me anyway!”

Claire was stunned by the rage in his voice. Is that really how he sees me? she wondered. The mother who’s never here, never home for her only child? She swallowed the hurt, forcing herself to focus on the events of last night.

“All right, I’ll accept your word that it was the only time you took out the truck. You still haven’t told me why you did.”