The Guilty - Jason Pinter [100]
"Do you love her?" he asked. I said nothing. "I said do
you love her?"
"Yes," I said. "I do."
"Then don't do this. You're a selfish prick you don't at least
call. You think you're the only one hurting?"
"I can't see Amanda ending up like that," I said, pointing
toward Mya's room. "That girl is in there because of me.
Because of who I am and what I do. I can't control anything,
man. I can't help myself from taking these punches, but I'll
be damned if Amanda needs to feel them, too."
"You don't think she's feeling it right now?"
"Not the same way Mya is. Emotional pain hurts, yeah. But
physical pain can kill. I'd rather her be devastated than dead."
I looked up at Curt. "Have you come any closer to catching
this guy? Please tell me they've found the son of a bitch."
Curt took a deep breath. I saw a twitch as his hand went
290
Jason Pinter
to his holster. I knew what he was wishing, because I felt
the same way.
"No," he said. "NYPD is tripping over themselves to get
at this guy, but the mayor's made everyone scared. Too many
young guys in this city, too many potential suspects. One
person gets an itchy trigger finger, Roberts is forgotten about
and we have a crisis on our hands."
"So what then, we wait until he kills someone else, falls
asleep at the scene?"
"First off," Curt said, "there's no 'we.' You're not a cop.
You do your job, keep digging up leads, write shit people care
about. We'll do ours and eventually we'll catch this guy."
"Bang-up job so far," I said.
"You know what, Henry? Go fuck yourself. You're not the
only one hurting. Four people are dead and your ex is banged
up bad. You want to vent? Go ahead. But don't crap on the
only people left who give a damn about you."
"I don't need this," I said. "I have work to do. I have to
find this guy."
"Yeah, right."
"You gonna stop me?"
"Stop you?" Curt said, laughing. "Why would I do that?
Hell, I'll even walk you out. But listen, man, Carruthers is
going to make another statement tonight." He took a breath.
"They found another quote. Where he pushed Mya."
"Jesus."
"Thought you'd be better off hearing it from me instead
of the tube."
"Thanks for small favors. What did it say?"
"Was addressed to you," Curt said.
"To me?"
Curt nodded. "Said, 'Henry: Quien es? '"
The Guilty
291
"Quien es?"
"It's Spanish," Curt said.
"I figured that," I said. "What's it mean?"
"Means 'who is it?'"
"He asked me 'who is it?'"
"Guess he's not done with you, yet. Be careful, my friend."
Cindy Loverne passed us in the hall. She grazed my
shoulder with her hand, gave a weak smile.
"Gimme a minute to talk to Mya's mom," I said. "Then
I'll head out."
"Take your time," Curt replied. "That family needs you
more than I do."
I nodded, clapped Curt on the back, entered Mya's hospital room. Cindy was kneeling on the floor. She was
holding Mya's hand, stroking it gently. I heard her whispering close to her daughter's face. I hadn't entered quietly. I
watched Cindy speak to her daughter for several minutes
before she stood up, walked to an empty chair and flung
herself down.
"How are you, Mrs. Loverne?"
The woman's expression didn't change. She had a dreamy
look in her eyes, slightly glazed. She was likely on some sort
of sedative. If these things had happened to my husband and
daughter I'd want to be knocked out, too.
"I'm okay," she said, her voice slow and deliberate.
"How've you been, Henry? It's been such a long time."
"I'm doing okay," I said.
"I see your name in the newspaper a lot. So proud that
you're doing so well for yourself."
I said nothing. Felt proud of nothing. And receiving compliments made me feel worse.
"I'm so sorry about Mya," I said. "But she's going to make
292
Jason Pinter
it and come out a hundred percent. She's going to recover and
be a great lawyer. She's going to make you proud."
"That'd be nice," Cindy said. "David always said Mya
had the brains in the family. I sure believed him. Did you
know David used to watch 'Cops' every night? And those
'When Animals Attack'