Chương 13
For a moment, he simply stared at Ruiz as if he had misheard a waiter.
Then he gave a short laugh.
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am.”
“On what charge?”
“We’ll address that after you’re secured.”
“I have done nothing requiring handcuffs.”
Ruiz’s voice stayed even.
“Hands behind your back.”
Natalie turned away.
That hurt him.
I saw it.
He looked at her before he looked at the officers.
“Natalie.”
She kept her face turned toward the Caldwell house.
“You should listen to her.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
The third officer moved closer.
Grant looked around the cul-de-sac one last time.
Neighbors who had once accepted his wine, his invitations, his expensive holiday baskets, and his loud advice now watched from lawns and driveways without stepping in.
His shoulders lowered.
He turned.
Ruiz cuffed him.
The click of the first ratchet sounded very small.
The second sounded smaller.
Grant tested the cuffs once.
Not enough to resist.
Just enough to feel them.
“This is excessive.”
Ruiz checked the spacing.
“It’s procedure.”
“You enjoy this.”
“No.”
That answer seemed to disappoint him.
He wanted persecution.
Procedure gave him nowhere dramatic to stand.
Sophie watched from beside me.
Her face had gone pale again.
I touched her shoulder.
“You don’t have to watch.”
“I know.”
She stayed.
Grant looked toward her.
“I am sorry you got frightened.”
Sophie frowned.
“I wasn’t frightened until Uncle Travis grabbed me.”
Grant swallowed.
“I am sorry for that.”
“That’s different.”
He nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Ruiz guided him toward the third cruiser.
He took two steps, then stopped.
“What happens to Stonebridge?”
Natalie stared at him.
Even Ruiz looked surprised.
Grant seemed to realize the question had escaped.
He gave a tired shake of his head.
“Never mind.”
Natalie laughed once.
“You’re being arrested and you’re still worried about the deal.”
He turned toward her.
“I’m worried about you.”
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“You’re worried about what you bought for me.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“You always made it the same thing.”
His face tightened.
“You like the house.”
“I did.”
“The vacations?”
“That isn’t the point.”
“The car?”
“Dad.”
“You think all of that comes from nowhere?”
“No.”
She rubbed at the mascara beneath one eye.
“I just didn’t know it came from Claire’s signature.”
He flinched.
That landed.
Ruiz moved him again.
This time Grant did not stop.
The cruiser door closed behind him.
Nobody applauded.
I was glad.
It would have cheapened everything.
The street slowly began to release the breath it had been holding.
People spoke softly.
Someone folded a card table.
Someone else gathered abandoned cups.
The children were mostly gone now, pulled inside by parents who had decided one family’s disaster was enough entertainment for a holiday.
Mr. Palmer stood beside his ruined grill and stared at the blackened burgers.
“Anybody hungry?”
Nobody answered.
He sighed.
“Worth a shot.”
Sophie looked at me.
“I am.”
Mr. Palmer brightened.
“You’re a brave kid.”
“I’m hungry.”
“Even better.”
He found two hot dogs that had somehow survived and placed them on a paper plate.
Sophie accepted one.
I watched her put mustard on it with intense concentration.
That nearly broke me.
Trauma rarely behaved the way adults expected.
Sometimes children cried.
Sometimes they asked whether police cars had Wi-Fi.
Sometimes they ate a hot dog because it was six thirty and nobody had remembered dinner.
Ruiz returned after placing Grant in the cruiser.
“We’re going to need a longer statement from you tonight or tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
She studied me.
“You sure?”
“No.”
That made her smile faintly.
“Tomorrow is acceptable.”
“I’d rather finish what can be finished.”
“Nothing about this gets finished tonight.”
The sentence was gentle.
I hated that it was true.
She glanced toward Sophie.
“Take care of her first.”
“I can do both.”
Ruiz’s eyebrows lifted.
I heard myself.
There it was again.
The old habit.
Capability as an excuse not to choose.
Sophie took another bite of the hot dog.
Mustard had smeared across one corner of her mouth.
I handed her a napkin.
She wiped the wrong side.
I wiped it for her.
Ruiz waited.
“Tomorrow,” I said.
“Good.”
“What happens now?”
“We process the scene, preserve the documents, interview Mr. Pike with counsel if he chooses to speak, and coordinate with investigators regarding the alleged forgery and property filing.”
“Grant?”
“He’ll be taken in.”
“For what exactly?”
“Likely offenses connected to what happened today are still being sorted.”
She glanced toward the cruiser.
“The property matter will require more investigation.”
I nodded.
No instant justice.
No cinematic list of charges.
Just evidence bags, reports, interviews, waiting.
That felt more real and somehow more frightening.
“What about Travis?”
“Separate arrest.”
“Will he be released tonight?”
“Possible.”
Sophie stopped chewing.
I looked at her.
Ruiz noticed.
“If he is released, there may be conditions depending on the magistrate.”
“Can he come here?”
“We can ask for appropriate protective conditions, but I don’t want to promise what I don’t control.”
I appreciated that.
“What should I do?”
“Lock the house.”
“I was planning to.”
“Do you have somewhere else to stay?”
“My mother’s.”
Sophie immediately shook her head.
“I don’t want to go there.”
“Why?”
“She’ll panic.”
“That is accurate.”
My mother could turn a delayed text into a missing-person investigation.
Showing up with police paperwork and bruises would probably cause her to call every cousin east of Ohio.
“We could get a hotel.”
Sophie frowned.
“Can we stay home?”
I looked toward the house.
The shed had been broken into.
Someone had accessed the rear easement.
My camera system had been interfered with days earlier.
Every trained instinct said relocate.
Every maternal instinct wanted Sophie to feel that her bedroom still belonged to her.
“We can decide in a few minutes.”
“That means no.”
“It means I’m thinking.”
“You always say that before no.”
Mr. Palmer said, “You can stay at my place.”
We both looked at him.
May you like
He shrugged.
“I have three bedrooms and nobody uses two of them except Christmas boxes.”
