A Fallen Heart (17 page)

Walter looked to be in his midfifties, with a bushy gray mustache and a tweed jacket Nash thought he likely bought from a thrift store on Main Street. He half expected Walter to pull out a pipe and start smoking.

“Come on in, gentlemen,” Nash said, stepping aside so they could enter the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”

“No, none for me, thanks,” Jack said. “We’re going to try to keep this brief.”

“No, thanks,” Walter said.

They walked in and took a seat on Nash’s sofa, Nash opting to stand and Ford sitting in the chair across from them.

“We’re in the process of interviewing everyone who had contact with the victims brought in on Wednesday night. I’ve spoken to Adam, Sam, Caleb, and Rob already, as well as the ER staff and psych nurses who were on that night.”

Walter sat ready, pen poised over a notepad, and Jack looked mildly irritated.

Nash went first, recounting everything that led up to discovering Joel and Rory at the churchyard and then everything that happened afterward. He knew it would be difficult for Ford to hear, but he tried his best to leave nothing out.

This wasn’t the first time he had to give statements to the police about calls he’d attended. Cases that involved people driving under the influence were the most common, but he’d also testified in abuse cases. He’d learned from experience that sometimes the smallest detail, no matter how insignificant it might seem, could be the one thing that mattered most. This time he’d known immediately that his input would most likely be required, and so he’d tried to sear every detail he could into his mind at the time.

Jack had a couple of follow-up questions, which Nash answered as best he could. Their concentration with him had been on questions concerning Rory, rather than Joel’s care. It made sense, but Nash hadn’t had much contact with Rory. He wished he could be of more help.

Satisfied, Jack moved on to questioning Ford.

“Why don’t we begin with your version of events?”

Ford swallowed hard, and Nash clenched his hands to keep from reaching for him. He knew this was going to be difficult.

“Nash, Caleb, and Rob brought Joel into the ER. He was in rough shape but nothing imminently life-threatening. He was heavily addicted to opiates—his labs were worse than a lot of the hardcore junkies I’ve seen. He was nonverbal when he arrived, but I suspect it was due to the trauma he suffered. Eventually he was able to tell me his first name and his age.”

“Did he tell you anything else?”

Ford shook his head. “Not that night. He was going through withdrawal. You know, you and your partner were there that night.”

“We were. We also checked the log of all employees and visitors to the emergency psych unit while Joel was there. You visited more than once. Can you tell me what would prompt you to do that?”

“Do I need a reason?” Ford asked, an edge in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.

“No,” Jack replied, “but it seems out of character. Unless I’m mistaken and you follow up with all your patients, even after they’re no longer in your care.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. “Holy shit, Jack. You’ve known me for years. You really think I was involved somehow? Your little brother is one of my best friends—but then again, maybe you’ve forgotten because you’re refusing to speak to him.”

The claws were definitely out, Nash thought, but despite the palpable tension in the room as Ford didn’t hesitate to air Jack’s family’s dirty laundry, Nash felt a little glimmer of pride for Ford, who obviously cared so much about his friends.

“You need to leave Adam out of this, Ford,” Jack warned him.

“Or maybe you’re thinking I’m a suspect because I’m gay? We all know how accepting you are.”

“For Christ’s sake, Ford. If I thought you had anything to do with this, you’d be in cuffs in the back of my car, halfway back to the station by now. Ditch the goddamn attitude. I’m trying to figure out who’s killing these kids.”

Ford’s mouth snapped shut, and Nash watched with wide eyes. Jack scrubbed a hand down his face, sighing as he did. Clearly this case was taking a toll on him, and suddenly Nash felt nothing but empathy for him.

“The sooner you answer our questions, the sooner we can leave you alone. I want this case solved, and if you can help us do that, then I implore you to please ignore whatever grudge you’ve got against me for shit you have no business sticking your nose into, and tell me what you know.”

“Fine,” Ford said.

“Why did you go to visit Joel after he was transferred out of your department?”

“I wanted to make sure he was okay. When he came into the ER, I panicked for a second because he looked just like my little brother when Aaron was his age. It freaked me out, and he seemed so scared. I felt like we had a sort of bond. Diana, the social worker, mentioned that it was common for kids to latch on to someone they feel safe with. I was just checking up on him.”

“So a week ago, you’d never met him?

“Is that all it’s been? A week?” Ford said, the contemplative expression he wore suggesting that he wasn’t expecting anyone to answer.

“Ford?” Jack said.

Ford shook his head as though he was shaking thoughts from his mind. “Yeah, sorry. No. The night Nash brought him into the ER was the first time I met him.”

“During your visits with him, did he say anything to you? Anything about what had happened to him or anything at all?”

Ford paused. “He told me someone had hurt his friend, Rory, and that it was the man from the hotel, I think. I don’t know which hotel or which man. None of that means anything to me, and he was getting upset talking about it. I wish I’d asked him more questions. I had no idea it would be the last time….” Ford looked down at his lap.

“That’s good, Ford. That might help us narrow down the search. So far this bastard has been slick enough that we haven’t come up with anything solid. He’s pissing me off,” Jack growled.

“He’s bound to get sloppy eventually,” said Walter.

Jack’s voice was low when he spoke again. “And when we find him, I’ll personally make sure he rots.”

Nash didn’t doubt for a moment the seriousness of that pledge.

“Have you found Joel’s family? Do you know where he came from?” Ford asked.

Jack shook his head. “No. Nothing popped up in our system based on fingerprints, and none of the open missing persons cases matched. We double-checked a few of them to be sure, but it seems like he either didn’t have a family or they didn’t care he was missing.”

“And any leads on why he killed himself?” Ford asked.

“That’s not an active part of our investigation.”

“I still can’t believe he would do that.”

The sadness that laced Ford’s words was heartbreaking. Jack looked back at him, his eyes kind.

“I know it’s hard to accept, especially when it comes to kids, but sometimes people are capable of unimaginable things. He was hurting, Ford. I can’t tell you what he’d probably been through, and he was all alone in the world. He thought death would be easier.”

“I’m telling you, Jack. I swear. I don’t think he would do that.”

“Even Sam said the cause of death was exsanguination. He slit his wrists. He used the tip of a ballpoint pen. It wasn’t quick. If someone wanted to kill him, there were faster, easier ways to do it. And that doesn’t even take into account the fact that an armed officer was outside his room the whole time. No one entered. No sounds came from inside. It’s tragic, but Joel took his own life, and with some determination, I might add.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t self-inflicted. I’m saying that maybe someone scared him or threatened him or something.”

Jack looked doubtful, but he didn’t respond.

“We’re going to go. We’ve taken up enough of your time, but if you think of anything else, anything at all, whether or not it seems pertinent, give me a call. You have my number, yeah?” Jack asked, standing.

“Yeah. I got it.” Ford couldn’t have sounded more dejected if he’d tried.

Jack and Walter left, and Nash closed the door behind them before turning back to Ford. Gone was the lightheartedness from earlier in the day. In less than one hour, Jack had managed to erase every ounce of relaxation from both of them.

They ordered pizza that night, neither of them wanting to put in the effort to cook. After dinner they left the dishes. Nash could take care of them in the morning.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something tonight?” Nash asked as he shoved the pizza box into his fridge.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired. I think I might just go to bed.”

“Sure.” Nash gathered Ford close and pressed a kiss against his temple. “Let’s go to bed.”

IT HAD
been a week since the funeral. The morning of the service had been the first sunny day they’d had in weeks. The light cut through the heavy gray clouds, pushing them out of the way and staining everything in gold. The cemetery where they laid Joel to rest was peaceful and quiet. Despite being in the middle of the city, it felt like they were out in the countryside. Stately trees dotted the green lawns. Most of the foliage in the city had long since fallen, but it seemed as though the oaks were keeping watch over the dead, clinging to their leaves, standing as a reminder of life for those who’d been left behind.

Although Nash hadn’t been there for the first victim’s funeral the year before, he knew Daniel’s gravesite was only a few plots over. Adam, Sam, and Caleb had stopped there with flowers to pay their respects on their way to Joel’s service. Nash hung back, his hand in Ford’s.

Joel had been buried without a last name. They didn’t know where he’d come from, and thinking about how he’d ended up was painful, but his memorial service had been beautiful. A number of cops, medics, and hospital staff had filled the small area, people hoping to pay their respects spilling over the grassy hill. Sam had spoken, as had Adam, and Ford stood strong beside Nash. In the end, Joel was buried next to Rory, friends in life and in death, two lives taken far too soon. It wasn’t until they walked back through the wrought iron gates toward the car that Ford let the tears fall.

In the days since, Ford and Nash had spent almost all their time together. Nash felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Ford to realize that for all intents and purposes, they were dating. Hell, they were practically living together. They’d only spent a few nights apart, Ford opting to stay at Nash’s most of the time.

Over time, he had begun to slowly perk up. There was still a heaviness he carried in his heart, and Nash wished there was something he could say or do that would take Ford’s pain away. In the meantime, he settled for distraction, keeping Ford’s mind from dipping anywhere too dark.

So when his mom called later that morning and invited Nash to dinner the following night, Nash thought it would be perfect. He knew from experience that his mom’s lasagna could fix any problem.

“Is it all right if I bring someone with me?”

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re always welcome to bring a friend to dinner.”

He could picture her, sitting in the living room next to his father, silver hair curving to frame her face and a look of pure excitement painted there. He could hear in her voice the excitement he’d imagined when she answered him, despite the casualness of her words.

“Is this someone special that you’re bringing by?”

Nash heard the shower turn on and a moment later, Ford’s smooth voice singing. Nash’s heart lurched.

“I think so, yeah.”

He held the phone away from his ear to avoid bursting an eardrum from the loud squeal his mother let out. She’d been badgering him for years to settle down. It wasn’t like he was getting old. There was plenty of time left, and for the most part, Nash was happy being on his own. His career had long been the main focus, but meeting Ford had smacked him right in the head.

They’d only known each other a few weeks. It wasn’t enough time to start falling for someone, and maybe the emotional pressure cooker they’d been living in had artificially amplified Nash’s feelings. Maybe everything he felt was a result of the stress he’d been under, but somehow he didn’t think so.

It was far too soon for any sweeping declarations, but Nash was keenly aware of how different this was from anything he’d ever experienced.

“Don’t get too excited. I haven’t even asked him yet if he wants to go. He might not be comfortable with it.”

“Why wouldn’t he want to meet us? We’re lovely,” his mother pointed out, and Nash laughed.

“I know you are, but he doesn’t know that. I’ll ask him, though.”

“Okay. Let us know, and come by whenever. We’ll be here all day.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m looking forward to meeting your young man tomorrow.”

“Please don’t call him that to his face,” Nash said, imagining Ford’s reaction.

“What should I call him?”

“Ford.”

“Like the car?”

“Yep. That’s his name.”

“All right. I’m looking forward to meeting your Ford tomorrow.”

Nash rolled his eyes.

“Are you making your lasagna?” he asked, knowing full well she was. It was his favorite, and it’d been way too long since he’d been able to have any.

“Of course.”

Nash hung up and went to find Ford. He was getting out of the shower, towel wrapped low on his hips, water still dripping from his hair. Without hesitation Nash stepped forward and pulled Ford into his arms.

“I’m all wet,” Ford protested.

“I don’t care.” He dipped his head forward, sucking the water droplets from Ford’s shoulder. Ford shivered in his arms, and Nash smiled against his damp skin.

“Did I hear you talking to someone?” Ford asked, his voice sounding a little breathy.

“My mom. She called to invite us to dinner tomorrow night.”

“Us?”

“Well, me. But you’re coming with me.”

“I don’t think—”

“Don’t overthink this. It’s not the precursor to a proposal. It’s dinner at my parents’ place. She’s making lasagna, and trust me when I tell you that you haven’t truly lived until you’ve eaten Vivian Nash’s lasagna.”