Today's Promises (Promises #2)(51)

The detective then lays his theory out for me, which is pretty spot-on.

He says, “Flynn’s coat was lying across the evidence that day in the car. I asked him to cover the blood and the files, remember?”

I nod.

“Well, when one vial went missing, I knew right away he’d grabbed it when he picked up his coat. You didn’t touch anything that day, Jaynie. So see, there’s no sense in taking the fall for your boyfriend. I’ve known the truth since day one.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I whisper, truly curious.

The detective is silent for a beat, like he’s contemplating something.

Finally, he says, “Believe it or not, kid, I’m on your side. I figured as long as Flynn didn’t do anything with the blood, I’d just let it slide. You’ve both seen enough trouble in your lives. Why add to it over a stupid move?”

I return to my original position of trying to save Flynn. Because he did do something with the blood, and this is too big to, as the detective put, let slide.

Flynn’s going to have to pay for what he did…unless I can stop it.

“You’re wrong on one thing,” I throw out.

“What’s that, Jaynie?”

“Flynn may have lifted the blood, but I planted the evidence. So you may as well go ahead and charge me, since I committed the bigger crime.” My voice cracks again. “Arrest me, Detective Silver.” I hold out my hands, wrists up. “Go ahead, I’m ready.”

Am I?

No.

But I will go down to save Flynn.

The detective, however, makes no move to cuff me. He stands there, completely quiet, and looking wary. Clearly, he’s past the point of buying my false story.

Defeated, I murmur, “I had to try.”

“I know.”

Resigned that there’s no getting out of this mess, I lower my hands and confess. “I just wanted to protect Flynn. I will always try to protect him. At any cost.”

“Even if it’s to your own detriment, Miss Cumberland?”

The detective isn’t trying to be an *; he seems to genuinely want to know.

So I tell him the truth. “Yes, it doesn’t matter. I’ll take the fall for Flynn any day.”

Detective Silver bends down. With the edge of the towel he took from me, he picks up the bloodied knife. A few seconds later he’s dropping both items into a plastic evidence bag, which he promptly seals.

Gesturing for me to follow, he says, “Come with me, Miss Cumberland.”

I expect the book to be thrown at me, but there are no handcuffs placed on me as we begin to walk, no rights read as we leave the Lowry property.

When we reach his car, which is pulled up tight behind mine, I finally flat-out ask, “Am I under arrest?”

“No” is the detective’s simple reply.

Our eyes meet, but he quickly turns away. I just stand there and observe as he pops open the trunk of his car and takes out a gas can.

What is he up to now?

I have no idea.

But when he tosses the bloody towel and knife, still in the plastic evidence bag, on the ground, and then starts pouring gasoline all over it, I gasp. “Wait. What are you doing?”

The detective’s reply is swift. “I’m destroying these items to protect you and your reckless boyfriend from your own damn selves.”

I am speechless. No one ever does stuff like this for us.

As he sets the evidence we planted on fire, ensuring Flynn and I remain safe from being discovered, I stand there, mouth agape.

Seems he really is on our side. We can truly trust him.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“You’re welcome,” I am told.

Though I am off the hook, I can’t deny the person I’ve become. Good or bad, the fact remains that I was willing to take the fall to protect Flynn. And it doesn’t end there. Had the detective not shown up, I probably would have taken that evidence and moved it elsewhere on the property. Then I would’ve been the one who planted the evidence. I hadn’t reached that point yet, but I know now that that’s what I would have done.

Because what I told the detective is true—I’ll do anything to protect Flynn.

What if Allison got out and went after him, instead of me?

I couldn’t let that happen.

And better I fall than him.

It doesn’t matter now, though.

The evidence we manufactured is gone, burning up before my eyes.





Flynn



I insist Crick take off, but he wants to stay.

“No, man, I’ll be fine, Really, I will,” I reiterate when he offers for about the fourth time in as many minutes to remain with me until I know for sure that Jaynie is safe.

He finally agrees to go. “Call me if you need anything,” he says.

“You got it.”

Once he’s gone, I head up to our apartment, where I promptly begin pacing the small space we call home.

“Where are you, Jaynie?” I mutter to the still and heavy air.

I am frustrated and officially out of options. Except for the one I’ve been avoiding—call the police and report Jaynie as missing.

But just as I’m about to give in and hit 9-1-1 on my cell, I hear a car pulling up out back.

Racing over to the window, I see it’s Jaynie, returning with the car and filling me with relief.