Dark Debts Read Online Free Page A

just had you fooled.” Detective Ken again. His arrogance was now enhanced by a patronizing sneer. Randa abandoned all efforts to hide her contempt.
    â€œI don’t fool that easily.”
    They locked eyes, and Randa did not look away as another man approached the desk. She could hear him talking to the older detective as he rustled something out of a brown paper bag.
    â€œBack closet . . . under a pile of clothes . . .” She looked up. The older detective was holding a plastic bag. Inside, marked with a small cream-colored tag, she saw the gun. Her entire body locked with disbelief. The man was still talking.
    â€œÂ . . . Forensics dusted it, we’re waiting . . . Ballistics said send it over, they’re not busy. I said there’s no rush, the guy’s dead . . .”
    â€œRush anyway.”
    Randa stared at the gun. Were they saying it came from Cam’s apartment? Captain Arrogance could barely contain his glee.
    â€œWell, what do you know? Looks like you fool easier than you think.”
    I t was nearly dawn by the time Randa got home. She sat on her sofa in a stupor as the sun rose and the room lit up around her. She could only think; she couldn’t feel. Her emotions were locked in the bottleneck of information—Cam’s death, the police, the guy at the morgue, the gun—it was too much. It numbed her.
    She had finished filing her column by six o’clock and had settled back to zone out in front of a true-crime miniseries that had sounded promising in its reviews. She’d given it fifteen minutes before deciding that the critics were all imbecilic and turning it off. She’d flipped through the latest Rolling Stone , but couldn’t bring herself to care about Bruce Springsteen’s horse farm. All she could do was replay this strange night in her head over and over, searching for any part of an answer.
    It had been one of those nights that reminded Randa that she’d inherited her mother’s nerves. She had been consumed by a feeling of lurking doom. It had made no sense. Looking back on it now, it was as if she’d spent the night waiting for the phone call, as if some deep, hidden part of her had known it was coming.
    S he had been sleeping on the edge of the bed with her head near the nightstand, and the phone had scared the hell out of her. She hated middle-of-the-night phone calls. A wrong number or someone was dead—too wide a spectrum to prepare for on a moment’s notice with a pounding heart.
    â€œHello!” She’d answered in a tone that demanded a quick explanation.
    â€œRanda?”
    She’d recognized the voice immediately. For a millisecond she had considered hanging up on him, but then she’d asked herself who she thought she was kidding.
    â€œCam?”
    â€œI have to talk to you. It’s really important. I know it’s late, but I have to talk to someone and you’re the only person I know who might believe this.”
    â€œBelieve what?”
    â€œI can’t do it on the phone. Randa, it’s crazy, it’s . . . Look, you always said you’d do anything for me.”
    â€œThat was a long time and many erroneous perceptions ago.”
    â€œI know. We can talk about that, too. You don’t know . . . you can’t believe the things you don’t know.”
    â€œHell, I can’t believe the things I do know.”
    â€œDammit, Randa! ” It was so loud and so out of character, she’d almost dropped the receiver. “I’m in trouble! I’m in trouble that I didn’t even know existed! Now are you going to come help me, or are you just going to send a nice wreath to the funeral?”
    â€œOkay, calm down. I’ll be over as soon as I can.”
    â€œNo! Not here!”
    â€œAll right. I’ll meet you at Ray’s?”
    â€œThat works. But hurry.”
    â€œOkay.