One of Those Faces (46)

He exhaled. It wasn’t a sigh but more of a growl. “I’ll tell you what the sound was.” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and flipped through it. “Do you know the last thing Holly ever did while she was fighting for her life that night?” He turned the phone screen toward me.

My stomach dropped. It was a close-up photograph of a hand, the skin blue and pale, the fingernails bloodied and broken at the tips. I looked away.

“It takes about ten seconds for someone to pass out from strangulation,” he said coolly, continuing to hold up the phone to my face. “And in every one of those seconds, Holly reached for the closest thing she could and clawed at it until she passed out.”

I remembered the police huddled around the alleyway, observing the garbage can lid. The metallic sound. That screeching, scraping sound.

He returned the phone into his pocket. “After that, whoever did this to her kept choking her for another four minutes until she died.”

My hands and knees trembled.

“You didn’t help her then. But now you can.”

Asshole. I swallowed. “I want to,” I said. “But all I saw was a shadow.” I finally met his eyes.

His gaze had softened. “All I’m asking is that you try.”

“Okay.”

He gestured behind him to his car parked at the curb. “Can you come down to the station now?”

“Okay,” I said again. I followed him to his car in a daze. The stench of smoke overwhelmed me as I opened the door and sat in the passenger’s seat. When he started the car, I quickly rolled down the window.

He noticed. “Sorry,” he said, starting down the road. “I tried quitting, but I couldn’t help sneaking one in on my way here. It’s been a stressful day.”

I stared ahead out the window. It hurt deep inside now that I knew. What if Holly had seen me? What if she’d been trying to get my attention? I saw the police station as we turned into Bucktown, and I gripped the side of the door. My memory suddenly felt blank. How could I possibly remember that night?

“Are you okay?” Wilder asked as he parked in the gated lot behind the building.

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“I’m going to have an officer walk the guy in front of you and—”

I froze. “No, I’m not doing that!”

He stared at me for a long moment before digging into his pocket and extracting a stick of gum.

“Don’t you think that’s a bad idea?” I pressed. “I don’t want him to see me.”

He flipped the gum into his mouth. “He won’t. I’ll be standing right by you the whole time, and the other officers will walk him out. To him, you’ll just be another person in the station.” He opened the car door and got out.

I stayed in my seat, clutching the door handle harder.

He waited in front of my door.

I avoided his gaze, finally stepping out after a minute. The feeling left my body as I followed behind him. He said something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I saw Holly’s bloody fingers. I heard the scratching, louder than ever.

Once behind a passcode-protected door, we walked through a busy area with desks and officers, all of them talking with others across the table. Wilder led me to a bench beside an empty desk in the corner of the room. “Okay, sit here for a minute,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I’ll be right back, and I’ll stay with you when they bring him out, okay?”

I nodded, pressing my palms against my knees.

He disappeared down the hallway. I counted my heartbeats until he reemerged minutes later.

I took a breath and leaned back against the bench.

“They’re going to bring him out now,” he said, bending down toward me. “Stand up, and we’ll face this direction.”

I stood slowly and followed where he motioned me to stand behind him, my knees quaking.

“And Harper.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “We’re going to keep investigating whether this is him or not, okay? So, no pressure.”

No pressure? What about everything he’d said about how I’d allowed Holly to die alone in the alley? I nodded.

“He’s going to come from that hall with two uniformed officers standing at his sides.”

I watched the entrance to the bullpen, trying to ignore the people passing by and chattering. I took one step closer to Wilder’s back, only half my body visible to the room. I could feel the excitement radiating from his body.

I saw the officers before the man came into view. My shoulders stiffened when my eyes focused on Jeremy, his appearance more haggard than the last time I’d seen him with Erin. He was almost across the room when he suddenly turned and locked his eyes on me. His hazel eyes widened, and he held that gaze until they pulled him into a separate room on the other side.

Wilder turned to me. “So?”

I was starting to feel light headed from the overwhelming pounding in my chest. I gripped his arm.

“What?” He grabbed my hand.

I fell back onto the bench, my thoughts racing. I could barely hear Wilder repeat the question.

“Harper?” He squeezed my hand.

“I know him,” I said, meeting his eyes.

His face lit up.

“But not from the alley,” I continued. “He was—he came to my work that night. The night that Holly died.”