Page 31 of Little Dark Deeds (Georgiana Germaine #12)

I arrived at Jana’s house to find Tyler face down on the living room floor.

He’d been shot once in the head. Jana was a few feet away, lying flat atop a stretcher.

It appeared she had been shot as well. A tourniquet had been wrapped around her left leg.

As I approached, a female paramedic draped a blanket over Jana, then gave Foley a quick nod.

Foley nodded back, and, with a slight curl of his finger, motioned for me to come over.

I did, and we entered the hallway.

“What happened?” I asked.

“Hold on a second.” He turned toward the paramedic. “Look, I know you need to get her to the hospital, but I want you to hold off for a minute.”

“We should get going,” she said. “How long do you need?”

Based on Foley’s expression, he didn’t appreciate her response.

“To clarify, it wasn’t a request,” he said. “You said it yourself: Jana’s fine. Whether you leave right this second or three minutes from now, it won’t make a dang bit of difference. Go attend to her. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

She frowned and turned, and Foley’s attention moved back to me.

“I haven’t been here long,” he said. “I’m not certain about what happened yet.”

“What do you know?”

“Forty-five minutes ago, we received a frantic call from Jana. She said Tyler had been shot. She didn’t know whether he was alive or dead. When we arrived, he was dead.”

“Where was she?”

“On the floor beside him, sobbing over his body.”

“Has she said anything to you?”

“Not a word. Every time I ask her a question; all I get is waterworks.”

I assumed he was telling me these things for a reason.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.

“I need to be here, but I’d like you to go with her to the hospital. Once the doctor checks her out, see if you can get her to talk. I want to know everything that happened here.”

Foley told the paramedic I’d be coming along for the ride, and I hopped in the back of the van. On the way to the hospital, Jana stayed silent, staring straight ahead as tears continued to stream down her face.

When we arrived at the hospital, the doctor inspected and cleaned the entry and exit wounds, ordered x-rays, and started Jana on antibiotics.

Then it was my turn.

I entered the room, and she put her phone down.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” I said.

“You’re fine. I was just talking to my mom.”

“I’m sure your family is worried.”

“Yeah, my mother lives in Colorado. She’s trying to find a flight. I told her she didn’t have to come. I’m sure she will anyway.”

She turned, staring out the window. “I think I ... I might be in trouble.”

“Why?” I asked.

She looked at me, but the words didn’t come.

If I was going to get her to talk, I needed to put her at ease.

I took a seat on a chair next to her.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” she said.

“You’re in shock. It’s understandable. In times like this, when I get stressed, there’s a little breathing exercise I do. We could do it together if you’d like.”

She reached over, grabbing a tissue from the box on the side table and blotting her eye. “I can try. What do you want me to do?”

“We’re going to take a deep breath in, hold the breath for a few seconds, and then breathe it out.”

She nodded, and I squeezed her hand, hoping the solidarity I was showing would work in my favor.

After a few cleansing breaths, she said, “My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. Would you mind getting me some water?”

I reached for a plastic water jug with the hospital’s logo on the front and walked to the sink. I filled it to the top and handed it to her. “I’m not sure if you’re up for it, but if you are, can you tell me what happened this morning?”

She took a few sips of water and then pressed a tissue to her nose.

“Tyler showed up at the house this morning,” she said. “When I met him at the door, he said he wanted to talk. He seemed fine, in a decent mood. I thought maybe he was doing better and had come over to talk about ending our separation.”

“You thought he was going to suggest moving back in together?”

“I did, and I was wrong. So wrong. As soon as I let him inside and the door closed, he got right in my face, shouting and hurling accusations, blaming me for everything.”

“What did he say?”

“He said I murdered Tiffany.”

“What evidence did he have?”

“None whatsoever. He said it was a gut feeling. Can you believe it? I was in shock. After all these years together, I can’t believe he’d accuse me of such a thing.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him the same thing I told him the last time he asked. I had nothing to do with her death. I may not have liked the fact that he was having an affair, and I know it sounds strange, but I liked her.”

If what she was telling me was true, I wondered what had provoked Tyler to confront her today.

Was he so lost in his grief, he needed someone to blame?

“What happened after he made the accusation?” I asked.

“I wanted to calm him down, so I suggested we have a seat and talk it through, like rational adults. Whenever he would get aggravated in the past, it almost always worked. Today, it just made him even madder. More yelling. More accusations. I didn’t know what to do, so I asked him to leave.”

“Considering he’s dead, I’m guessing he didn’t.”

She shook her head. “What happened next ... well, I still can’t believe it. He pulled a gun from beneath his shirt and started waving it around.”

“What did he say?”

“More of the same. That I killed Tiffany. I took the one person who meant the most to him in life. I ripped her from him, and for that, I had to pay.

“What did you do?”

“The only thing I could think of doing. I took a step back, figuring if I could just get out of the room, I could get away. And then the gun went off. It took me a minute to realize I’d been hit in the leg. He shot me.”

“But he’s the one who’s dead, so you must have found a way to defend yourself.”

“After he shot me, I lunged at him, and he dropped the gun. We both dove for it, but I was closer. I grabbed it and aimed at him. ‘Leave, and I won’t shoot,’ I said.”

“What was his response?”

“He said he’d leave when I was dead. He came at me again, and I didn’t want to do it, but I knew if he got the gun back, I wouldn’t make it out alive.

I closed my eyes, and I squeezed the trigger.

I thought I’d just nick him, you know? Shoot him in a place that would slow him down, so I could get away.

Then I ... I realized I shot him in the head. ”

Tears flooded down her face, and I reached out, placing my hand on her arm. The numbers on the bedside monitor began to rise, and then it started beeping. As I tried to calm her down, a nurse rushed in.

She glared at me and said, “She was fine a few minutes ago. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. We were just talking.”

“Yeah, right. This visit’s over. Get your things and get out.”