The Fury - Jason Pinter [24]
"The killer must have used gloves," I said. "Some
thing that didn't disturb fingerprints that were already
on the weapon. Human skin has oils, that's what leaves
the marks. Dry rubber gloves, if used carefully, would
leave whatever marks were already on the weapon.
Whoever it was not only knew enough about firearms
to keep those fingerprints intact, knew him well enough
to shoot him in the back of the head from close range,
and was cold-blooded enough to shoot him again after
blowing his brains all over the wall."
"They say keep your friends close but your enemies
closer," Amanda said. "Stephen's killer must have been
somebody he knew."
I noticed my father sitting there, his face looking
older than ever, fear gripping his whole body. He was
waiting for us to say something, to offer some piece of
advice or solace that would prove he was innocent. The
story he told us, assuming it was true, would have to be
proven in court. But from what Detective Makhoulian
had told me, Helen Gaines had disappeared. As of right
now she was the only person who could corroborate my
father's story. And she was a woman who certainly
owed him nothing.
"Sign the waiver, Dad," I said grimly, gritting my
The Fury
75
teeth, trying to force him to see that his only option
would be to fight nobly. The longer he held out, the
more public opinion would tilt away from his favor. "Go
to New York. We can do more for you there than we can
here."
"I don't want to go to jail," my father said. His words
were whispers, and if there was ever a moment my
heart might have bled for this man, it was now.
"Mr. Parker," Amanda said. "James. All we can do
right now is try to prove your innocence. We can't do that
here. Henry's right. We'll find you a lawyer. We'll help
you."
He looked at both of us. I could sense gratitude trying
to squeeze its way through his hardened veins. Instead,
James Parker simply nodded and said, "I'll sign it."
Amanda nodded, smiled. I couldn't show that
emotion, that happiness. My father had been lying to me
his whole life. Innocent or guilty, I had a hard time
mustering pity for him. Many times over the years I'd
hoped someone would lock him up for one of his
crimes. As a young boy I'd wished I was strong enough
to stand up to him. It didn't matter how far I went, how
much I distanced myself. His sins followed me wher
ever I went.
Amanda got up and knocked on the door. A cop
opened it, keeping his eyes on James Parker. As we left
the room, saw Captain Whalin talking to two uniformed
officers. When he saw us, Whalin came over, folding his
arms across his chest.
"Well?" he said.
"He'll sign the waiver," I said. "Let's get this over
with and get him back to New York."
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Jason Pinter
Whalin let out a pleased sigh. "I'm glad to hear that.
Last thing we need is another body taking up a jail cell
we can't spare. He still needs to appear before the judge
tomorrow morning, but that's a formality. I'll call the
NYPD. We'll have the waiver ready for him to sign at
tomorrow's hearing, and they'll send officers to escort
him back to New York. Then he's all yours. Thanks for
talking some sense into him."
Whalin walked away. I was glad to hear he wanted
my father out of his hair, it would help the process move
faster. I felt Amanda's hand loop through my arm. I put
my palm on it. Her skin felt warm.
As we headed toward the exit, I saw a woman sitting
in the lobby. Her hair was blond, unnaturally so, as
though she kept her hair colorist in good business. She
had on a white cotton blouse, simple jewelry. She was
teetering, swaying back and forth. Her arms were
wrapped around her thin body, one hand covering her
mouth. She looked like she was debating between
falling over and vomiting. A pair of knitting needles
poked out from her handbag. Memories came flooding
back. The more he raged, the more she knit. Losing
herself in stitches and patterns.
"Mom?" I said, approaching nervously. I hadn't seen
her in a long time. That pale, thin body turned