Ruby pointed at the couch, her face triumphant. “What do you call that? That is Alexis’s purse.”
“And what do you call this?” Now Nick saw what was in the man’s other hand. It was a gun. What was that saying? he thought. Don’t bring a knife to a gunfight?
But what choice did he have? Nick raised his knife and prepared to charge.
The sound of the shot filled the room. Something slapped his hand away. Nick didn’t have the knife anymore. And his hand was bleeding. A lot.
He had been shot.
He fell to his knees. The world spun as if he were on a Tilt-A-Whirl. The bitter taste of bile filled his mouth. He started to slump sideways. He couldn’t stop staring at the raw meat that used to be the base of his thumb. It had been bad enough when it was Lucy’s blood he had crawled through, Mariana’s blood glowing in his headlamp. This—this was his own blood. His lifeblood.
No. He could not pass out. Remembering Ruby’s advice, Nick forced every muscle to go rigid, ignoring the fact that it seemed to make the blood pulse from the wound even faster.
In the background, Ruby was screaming.
What was that glinting on the floor in front of him? The knife! Only a few feet away. He lunged for it.
The guy laughed and kicked it away. Nick landed on his hands. A scream was ripped from his mouth. The pain was like nothing he had ever experienced. It felt like he had just tried to pick up a snapped power line. Pulsing, burning agony raced from his bleeding hand up into his shoulder and then engulfed his entire body.
He slumped to the floor, closed his eyes, and let in the darkness.
“Nick?” Ruby said. “Nick?” She sounded frantic. “He’s going to bleed to death.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re all going to die,” the guy said as he stepped over Nick.
Nick lay curled in a fetal position. His bad hand was right next to one of his feet. Beside the shoe that had the razor blade tucked in the insole. What good would an inch-long blade do him? Better to lie here. Better to surrender to the peace.
But did he hear something in the distance? Was it a siren? In the car he had turned on his phone, hoping that Ruby was right. Hoping that the police were monitoring its location. Now they might be coming. Maybe. But even if they were, Nick was afraid it was too late. Too late for everyone.
In his mind’s eye, he saw the faces of Alexis and Ruby. If he was going to die, it was better to die for something. And while it might be too late for Alexis, it wasn’t for Ruby.
He just wished he had kissed Alexis. Even once.
Nick tensed every muscle. Pushed his teeth into his tongue. At the same time, he slid his index finger into his shoe, curling it under the insole. He knew he had found the razor blade when he felt it slice into his finger. Undeterred, he hooked it out.
He gripped the single-edged blade between his finger and thumb. He was so weak he wasn’t even sure he had it the right way around. His fingers were slippery with blood.
The man was standing sideways to him. Nick pushed on the floor with his good hand and launched himself at him, slashing the razor blade at ankle level.
The blade caught and held. And then it felt like a guitar string snapping. The pressure was suddenly gone. Screaming, the guy pitched sideways.
But he was still holding the gun. He propped himself on one elbow and took aim. And now the gun’s round, empty eye focused on Nick.
The second shot rang out just as the door went flying backward and Harriman barreled in.
And then the world went dark.
CHAPTER 50
NICK
TUESDAY
I OWE YOU
When Nick woke up, his thoughts felt fuzzy and slow. Above him was a white acoustical tile ceiling. And underneath him was what he thought was some kind of bed. In the background, a lot of beeping, overhead pages, and muffled conversations.
Slowly, it came to him. He was in a hospital.
And he was there because he had been shot.
It took a great deal of effort to move his head, but he finally managed to look down at his hand. It was wrapped in thick white bandages. But at least he still had a hand. Panic jolted him a bit more awake. What if he didn’t have all his fingers? He raised his hand toward his face—it seemed to weigh twenty pounds—and tried to count the pink tips protruding from the layers.
“So you’re awake now?” It was Ruby’s voice.
Five. At least, he thought there were five. Nick managed to turn his head.
Alexis and Ruby were sitting beside his bed. “My hand?” he asked.
“They said you were really lucky. The gunshot just grazed you. You had to have some stitches on it and where you cut your fingers on that razor blade, but they said you’ll be okay.” Alexis’s eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Your mom and brother just went to eat in the cafeteria. We told them we’d give them a break.”
Ruby got to her feet and pushed her chair back. “I’ll go tell Harriman you’re awake now. He wants to talk to you. They’ve been interviewing that guy. Kenny Moxley. They shot him before he could kill you. But don’t worry, he’s on another floor with a police guard.”
After she left, Alexis leaned so close that Nick could smell her breath. It smelled like coffee and cinnamon.
It was the best thing Nick had ever smelled.
“I owe you,” Alexis said in a low voice. “I thought I was dead for sure. He had tied me up and gagged me. Even though he kept saying he was sorry, he was planning on killing me as soon as it was dark. But you saved me.”
“I didn’t save you.” His tongue was like a piece of leather in his mouth. “The police did.”
“But you’re the one who turned on your phone so they would track you down.” Alexis sat on the side of the bed. It dipped slightly under her weight. “And you’re the one who was willing to fight back with nothing more than a razor blade. If you hadn’t done that…” Letting the words trail off, she leaned over and gave him a hug, tucking her head next to his.
Suddenly Nick felt completely awake. Alexis’s ribs were pressing painfully on his injured hand, squishing it against his stomach, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t even try to pull it free.
When she started to straighten up, he put his good hand on the back of her neck and pulled her back down. For a second, her soft lips landed on his. Then she pulled her head back and stood up.
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry,” Nick said. But he wasn’t.
Alexis closed her eyes and ran her fingertips across her lips. But it wasn’t like she was wiping him away. More like she was exploring. Remembering. At least that’s how it seemed to him.
She opened her eyes. “Look. We’re friends, Nick. Friends. But that’s all. I’m sorry.”
“Of course.” He put on a smile. “I guess I’m still a little loopy from the anesthesia.”
“Somebody tells me you’re awake,” Harriman called from the door.
“More or less,” Nick said. He and Alexis exchanged a glance. He wondered how much Harriman had heard.
“I’ve already done my interview, Nick, so I’m going to go.” Alexis nodded at him and left. He knew he should feel embarrassed or maybe sad for how things had gone, but he kept thinking, I kissed Alexis Frost.
Harriman closed the door and then took the chair Alexis had just been sitting in. “I owe you an apology. We made a mistake.” He hesitated. “I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”
Nick started to cross his arms but thought better of trying to bend his damaged hand. “You thought I did it.”
“When you’re a cop, there are a lot of things you wish weren’t true that are. This was one of them. But I should have gone with my gut. Because my gut said you didn’t do it.” He pressed his lips together so hard that the skin around them went white.
“Maybe next time you’ll listen to your gut.” Nick wasn’t quite ready to forgive, but he could see how much the other man was struggling. And the memory of Alexis’s kiss softened him.
“Technology’s only as good as the human beings interpreting it. We screwed up. And almost got you kids killed.”
Nick didn’t like being called a kid, but it didn’t seem worth arguing over. He sniffed. Could he still smell that coffee/cinnamon scent lingering in the air? And did Alexis always smell like that?
“It should have been a clue that the only DNA we got off the brick was Lucy’s. Finding your DNA on her hand but not on the brick didn’t add up, but we didn’t even try to account for it. It starts to make sense if you know Moxley was wearing gloves.”
“What about Lucy’s hand?”
“Even though we can find DNA, it still can’t tell you exactly when it was deposited or under what circumstances. In fact, the crime lab doesn’t even test for the source, whether it’s skin or blood or whatever. They just look for DNA. And spit—which, it turns out, is a big part of vomit—is an even better DNA source than blood. From what Ruby tells me, some of yours must have ended up on that accident victim when you held her hand. And that DNA got transferred to the pulse oximeter and then transferred to Lucy when the paramedics responded to the call about her being found in the vacant lot. It’s called secondary transfer.”
Nick didn’t even feel embarrassed by the whole vomiting thing anymore. “Ruby’s the one who figured it out.”
“Yeah, that Ruby.” Harriman shook his head. “Who knows how her mind works.”
“I think it works pretty well,” Nick said sharply.
Harriman held up a hand. “I wasn’t dissing her. She’s pretty amazing, actually. If she didn’t have a different way of looking at things, this all could have gone a lot worse.” He rummaged in his coat pocket and took out a tape recorder. “Now I need to talk to you about what happened in Kenny Moxley’s house.”
Nick started with seeing Kenny at the SAR search. When he got to the part about Moxley shooting the knife from his hand, Harriman said, “If you’re holding a weapon, that’s where people tend to shoot, because it’s what they’re staring at. Even in gunfights between people who are familiar with firearms, both will tend to shoot at each other’s hands. And you were the first—and we believe only—person Moxley ever shot.”
Nick started to say something more, but all he could do was yawn.
Harriman clicked off his tape recorder. “I think I should let you get some rest.”
After he left, Nick curled on his side, holding his injured hand off the bed, suspended in space. He wondered if his dad knew what had happened. A part of him even wondered if his dad was proud of him.
His dreams had all been based on lies.
The truth was a lot more complicated. Everything had changed.
Nick still had so many things to decide. Who he was. Who he took after. Who he wanted to be.
But for now he was going to sleep.
CHAPTER 51
NICK
SATURDAY
EVEN IF
Nick’s mocha sat untouched as he waited for Alexis to walk through the doors of Stumptown Coffee. Ruby was coming, too, but it was the thought of Alexis that had tied Nick’s stomach in knots. He couldn’t bring himself to take a single sip, despite the lines of chocolate zigzagging over the whipped cream.
Remembering how Alexis always carefully counted her money, Nick had gotten her one, too. She deserved more than a house coffee. After a moment’s hesitation, he had ordered one for Ruby as well.
Since he still couldn’t use his right hand, Nick had had to make three trips to carry everything to the table. The doctor had told him that if the bullet had nicked one-sixteenth of an inch deeper, it would have hit bones or tendons. The way the doctor had described it, Nick was extremely lucky, even if he had lost a lot of blood from both the bullet and the razor blade. Maybe seeing all that blood would finally help desensitize him.
A tall blond girl walked in, loosening the wool around her neck. But it wasn’t Alexis. When she finally did come in, should he hug her? Kiss her cheek? Tell her how pretty she looked? Because even though he hadn’t seen her yet, he knew Alexis would look amazing.
Today was Saturday, and it would be the first time they had seen each other since he had kissed her in the hospital. Or, as Nick liked to think of it, since they had kissed. Because he was certain there had been a moment when she had returned his kiss. Pretty certain, anyway.
Had she told Bran about what had happened between them? What did she think of Nick now? Could she possibly be interested in him as more than a friend?
The last few days had been a blur. On Thursday, he had gone back to school, graciously accepted the principal’s apology. Everywhere he went, kids and even teachers wanted to hear more about what had happened. Yesterday, a TV crew had interviewed him right in front of school. One of the crew had tried to shoo away the onlookers, without much success, not that Nick minded. People who had never even noticed him before were now saying hi in the hall like they had always been friends. Especially girls. But always hovering in the back of his thoughts was the memory of Alexis and that moment in the hospital when he had pulled her close.
And here she was, pushing her blond curls out of her eyes as she walked in with Ruby. They were deep in conversation about something that had made even Ruby put on the smallest of smiles. Were they talking about him?
He waved. “Over here, guys. I already got your stuff. My treat.”
Ruby stopped short even as Alexis took a seat. “Why are you wearing a tie?” she demanded.
Nick looked down. The tie was yellow with tiny navy-blue dots. He had borrowed it from Kyle’s closet. It made him look older. Not that he was going to tell Ruby that. “I had another interview this morning. With KATU.”
“Did you allow that tie to touch any of our cups?”
“What?” He looked at Alexis, but she seemed just as confused as he was.
“Nobody ever washes their ties. And they brush against all kinds of viruses and bacteria and just plain dirt.” Ruby made a face. “If I go to a doctor and he’s wearing one, I ask him to take it off and then wash his hands.”
Understanding dawned. “Because it could transfer germs from a sick person to you,” Nick said. “Just like that pulse oximeter transferred my DNA to Lucy.”
“Otherwise known as a pulse ox,” Ruby said. “Exactly.”
“Don’t worry. It didn’t come anywhere near your drinks,” Nick said, although he really had no idea. Ruby finally sat down but didn’t reach for her coffee. Alexis had already picked hers up, and now she took a sip and gave Nick a grateful smile. With that smile, all the knots in his stomach loosened, and he picked his up, too.
Then she said, “Thank you. And Bran and I saw you on Channel 8 last night. You looked good.”
The knots retied themselves. He set his coffee back down, untouched. “I made sure I didn’t mention either of your names.” For their own reasons, each girl wanted to fly under the radar. “The reporter told me they’re saying the surgery to repair that guy’s Achilles tendon was successful, although he’ll probably always have a limp.”
“I still don’t understand why you had a razor blade in your shoe.” Ruby’s brows pulled together.
How could Nick explain it to them? “Everyone but you guys thought I killed Lucy. My dad even told me that he would look out for me in prison.” He remembered the clang of the doors, the guard’s stare, the smell of sewage and sweat, his father’s dead eyes. A shiver ran through him, hard enough that his untouched coffee slopped over the edge of the mug. “Just being there to visit that one time was enough. I knew I couldn’t face going to prison.”
Alexis got it right away. She touched the back of one hand with a fingertip. Her nails were bitten to the quick, which made him forgive her instantly, made him love her even more. “Oh, Nick, you wouldn’t have, would you?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It was just a weird kind of comfort when I was desperate, you know?”
Ruby still looked a little bit lost, but Alexis nodded. “Are you going to see your dad again?” she
asked. He could still feel the brush of her finger.
“I don’t know.”
“Still,” Alexis said, “he is your dad.”
Unexpectedly, her words stung. Maybe Nick could forgive his dad for what he had done, but that didn’t mean he had to actually let him into his life after all these years. “Your dad isn’t in your life, though, right? And you don’t seem to mind.”
“That’s different.” Alexis’s mouth twisted.
“How?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
He made himself pull back. “I guess my mom still goes to see my dad sometimes because she still remembers the person he used to be. Same with my brother, but since he doesn’t remember as much, he doesn’t go as often. And I don’t have any memories of who he was before. Not really.” It still felt weird knowing just what a huge secret they had kept from him for years and years. He understood their reasons, but he didn’t agree with them.
A silence fell over the table.
“Have you heard what Dimitri has been calling us?” Ruby said. “The three musketeers.”
In her clumsy way, she was trying to change the subject, trying to save Alexis and Nick from feeling the pain she saw but didn’t understand.
Still, Nick liked the sound of it. He raised his mug. “To us. The three musketeers.”
They clinked mugs and smiled at each other. Friends.
Maybe that wasn’t everything Nick wanted, but for today it was enough. As he looked from Ruby to Alexis, he put his mug to his lips and drank in the sweetness.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A lot of Blood Will Tell revolves around DNA and its implications. DNA expert Daniel Krane, PhD, research scientist and professor at Wright State University and founder of Forensic Bioinformatics, graciously answered question after question. As I was revising the book, Nathaniel David Adams, a bioinformatician who works with Dan and who was also once an EMT, helped me get all the details right.