Kathy Reichs - Virals

“Wait, no, not everywhere. From the . . . left?”

Hi honed in like a Patriot missile. “How many men chased you?”

“Three dudes.” Shelton replied without thinking.

Hi pounced. “But I thought you imagined the shooters?”

“Oh, no, I mean, I thought I saw men, but actually . . .” Sweat dampened Shelton’s hairline. “Okay! Enough!”

“You!” Hi pointed at Ben. “What’d you find in the pit?”

“Bones,” Ben answered.

“How many? Which ones?”

Ben opened his mouth, closed it.

“The bullet hole,” Hi said. “Which bone?”

“Skull.”

Hi leaned into Ben’s face. “But the monkey skull had no bullet hole!”

“Right . . . I thought the skull had a hole but I was wrong.”

“You thought? You can’t tell if there’s a hole in something?”

Ben paused. “Yell in my face again, buddy boy, and I’ll put a hole in your skull.”

Ignoring him, Hi turned on me.

“Where were you at nine o’clock Saturday morning?”

“What?” I hadn’t thought about Saturday. “I was at home. Sleeping.”

“Your father can verify that? He was home too, right?”

Oops.

“No, I forgot, I was at the bunk—”

Can’t say that either.

“With Ben in his boat,” I finished lamely.

“Alone?”

Crap. What the others would say?

“Maybe.”

“Maybe!?!” Hi threw his hands skyward.

“We’re screwed,” Shelton muttered.

“Okay, Hi,” I said. “I’m convinced. Lay it out.”

“Details are key .” Hi gestured for us to gather close. “We lock in the critical ones. Then, if Karsten asks something outside the box, either you don’t know, or you make up something the others don’t have to corroborate.”

He pointed at Shelton. “No one saw anybody in the woods. No lights, no voices, none of that.”

“I hear you.”

“Let’s say we heard exactly two bangs,” Hi said. “Like a whip cracking. Got it? ‘Whip cracks.’”

“Got it,” Shelton said. “Could have been a monkey in the trees. Maybe a branch breaking, who knows?”

“Right! But let them draw conclusions. We just act stupid. And the whip cracks came from ‘the other side of clearing.’ Nothing more specific than that. Okay?”

Everyone switched to memorization mode. Luckily, we were good at this kind of thing.

“And Tory lost the tag, so she can handle that however she wants. The rest of us say what?”

“I don’t know.” Shelton and Ben, together.

“Bingo.” Hi checked his watch. “We’ve got about thirty minutes. You guys are lucky I did some research.”

For the rest of the crossing we huddled, tweaking the alibi.

Please don’t let me foul this up!

CHAPTER 34

“Mr. Stolowitski.” Karsten glanced at a clipboard. “You first.”

Hi rose and entered the conference room. Inside, three chairs circled a folding table. Karsten sat next to Carl on one side. Hi took the chair opposite them.

Karsten wasted no time. “Where were you Saturday morning?”

Carl leaned on his forearms in an attempt to look menacing. The posture failed.

“Saturday morning? Let me think.” Hi glanced at the ceiling. “Oh, right! I went to the canine festival with Shelton, Ben, and Tory. We took Ben’s runabout down to the marina and walked to Marion Square.”

Hi propped his chin on his fists.

“I remember because it was drizzling, and the dogs were howling like mad. A massive Doberman slipped his leash and tripped Ben. He landed in a huge puddle. It was hilarious! Ben had to buy a new shirt from a stall that only sold animal prints. He was so mad—”

Karsten interrupted. “What time did you get to the park?”

“Hmmm. Must’ve been around eight thirty that morning. Tory wanted to buy dog pastries from a vendor selling designer animal treats. The guy had run out, but said his partner was bringing white chocolate bars at nine.

“I know what you’re thinking. White chocolate. Bad for dogs. But the vendor said only the cocoa is dangerous, and white chocolate doesn’t contain any.”

Karsten opened his mouth, but Hi was a boulder rolling downhill.

“Anyway, we bought a bunch to give to the rescue dogs. We couldn’t adopt one ourselves, but we figured we could at least—”

“Stop!”

Karsten’s hand shot up to block the torrent pouring from Hi’s mouth. Carl had long since given up taking notes.

“How long were you at this dog festival? And before you answer, know that I will double-check everything.”

“No problem.” Hi leaned back, fingers laced behind his head. “I think we left around noon, when the last of the greyhounds was adopted. This huge woman from North Carolina—”

“I don’t care about that!” Karsten’s nostrils flared. He paused, as though debating something internally. “Out of curiosity, how have you been feeling lately?”

Hi’s face registered surprise. “What? Fine. Why?”

“No reason.” Karsten’s eyes returned to his clipboard. “When did you return home?”

Hi shook his head, resumed his excruciatingly detailed account.

“Maybe twelve thirty. Just after the large lady left with her pooch. We went to the dog show. A toy poodle won best in breed.” He smiled. “You have to hear about this dog!”

“So you left the dog festival at eleven?” Karsten asked. Coy.

“No, sir.”

Shelton tugged his earlobe, eyes on the tabletop. “It was at least noon. Like, twelve thirty. I remember because it was after the fat chick in the Tar Heel shirt took the greyhound, but before the dog competition.”

Carl yawned, snapped his mouth shut at Karsten’s disapproving glance.

“Who won?” Karsten feigned only minimal interest.

“Poodle,” Shelton said. “Best in breed.”

Karsten changed topics. “You saw three men in the woods on Sunday night, yes?”

“Honestly, I was so scared I’m not sure what I saw.” Still Shelton did not look up. “I remember some monkeys running around.”

“But you reported being chased by armed men .” Karsten was clearly annoyed. “You claimed they shot at you.”

“I heard two loud sounds, crack crack , like a whip.” Shelton shrugged. “I don’t know what made the noise. I just started running.”

“What nonsense is this?” Karsten snapped. “You saw no one that night?”

“I’m sorry sir.” Shelton did meek exceptionally well. “I’m afraid of the dark. Ask my mom. I’m always jumping at shadows.”

“Why would you run if no one chased you?” Karsten pressed.

“We found the bones at sunset. Tory said they were human, how scary is that? Then we heard noises coming from across the clearing.” For the first time, Shelton made eye contact. “What can I say? I got spooked. I’m a wuss. I took off.”

“No armed men? No gunshots?” Karsten raised frustrated palms. “You’re now saying that no one chased you? It didn’t happen?”

“Sorry,” Shelton muttered. “I guess my mind was playing tricks. After all, no one found any bullets, right?”

“Where did you dock your boat?” Karsten asked.

“Charleston City Marina,” Ben said. “Slip 134.”

“Do you have a receipt?”

“No. It’s prepaid for the shuttle.”

“The institute pays for that slip?”

Ben shrugged.