The Guilty - Jason Pinter [44]
Winchester, and just what his motives were for killing three
seemingly unconnected people.
"I'm gonna head back to the office, see what I can dig up,"
I said to Amanda. "Thanks for setting me up with Trimble, I
knew there was a reason I keep you around." I gave her a
playful nudge, then wrapped my arm around her. As she
leaned in, I heard a beep come from my pocket. I always kept
my cell phone on silent mode when talking to a source.
Someone had called and left a message.
I checked my call log. One missed call. I recognized the
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number. I immediately shoved it back into my pocket.
Amanda didn't need to see the number. She only had to look
at my expression to know.
"It was her again, wasn't it?"
I nodded.
"You know I'm not a jealous girlfriend," Amanda said. "I
don't need the password to your e-mail, I have a life outside
of you, I don't sit around at night wondering when you'll be
home, and I sure as hell don't care if you subscribe to Maxim.
But raging jealousy and curiosity as to why your ex seems to
think it's all right to call you every freaking day are two different things entirely."
"She's not calling me every day," I said, and immediately
regretted it. That wasn't the point. Amanda was right. If the
tables were turned and some old boyfriend was calling her at
freaky hours, I'd be bugging the phone lines and setting up a
tent outside the guy's house waiting for him to come home.
The fact that she'd let Mya's intrusions go on for this long said
a lot about her character and patience. And maybe mine, too.
"Listen, Mya's had it rough the past few years.You remember
what I told you about us, that night? When she was attacked?"
Amanda sighed, nodded. She knew about the attack. It was
one of the first things I'd told her when we decided to be
together. I thought it was important, to approach our relationship with all the cards on the table. It was a painful one to show.
A year and a half ago, Mya had been attacked. She was
living in New York, while I was finishing my senior year. We
were fighting constantly, and late one night she called me. Still
boiling over an insult from before, I hung up on her. It turned
out she had pressed Redial in the middle of being attacked and
nearly raped by a man who jumped her outside of a bar. She
managed to fight him off, but he broke her jaw. I didn't know
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this until the next morning. It was as much consolation as
knowing the surgery didn't leave much of a scar.
"I don't know why she keeps calling," I said. Amanda
glared at me with one of those don't you dare patronize me
looks. I had to remind myself that Amanda was much smarter
than I was. "Okay, I know why she's calling. But she doesn't
want me back. She's just hurting and needs someone to help."
"I don't have a problem with that," she said. "I know you're
a great friend. But ignoring her, telling her to leave you alone,
I feel like you're doing it for my sake rather than hers. If you
want to do something, do it. But stop with the I don't know
why she's calling crap."
"I don't want to do anything," I said. "I have you. That's
where my attention deserves to be."
I wrapped my arms around Amanda, held her close, hoped
she knew I was telling the truth.
"I turned my back on her once," I said. "I just don't want
to be cruel. I know she's been having problems. I've heard
she's been drinking too much, that she's alienated her friends.
Being the daughter of a political animal is a full-time job, and
Mya wanted to have her own life."
"Look," she said, "I'm not saying you should leave the girl
to drown in a distillery, I'm just saying this isn't normal.
Forget any girlfriend neuroses, it's just not healthy for
someone to do what she's doing. If you don't clear things up,
it's only going to get worse."
"You think so?" I asked.
"Come on, she's not the only girl who's ever wanted a guy
she couldn't get." I stared at Amanda, cocked my head. "Oh,
give it a rest. You think you're the first guy I've ever liked?