The 17th Suspect (Women's Murder Club 17)

“I remember now. I came in here to wash my hands before having lunch. I must have passed out.”

Andy said, “That sounds right. Syncope. Your blood glucose is about normal. Your blood pressure is within normal rang

e,” and he asked me to help him out by getting onto the stretcher. There was no way they could carry me out the narrow doorway on that thing.

My strength was coming back and so was my mind. I was feeling madder.

I said, “I’m fine, Andy. Please let me up. I’ve fainted once or twice before when I haven’t eaten. I haven’t eaten today. I’ve been busy. Look. Will someone just help me the fuck up?”

Hands went under my armpits. I was hoisted onto my feet. I felt woozy, but with the support of strong hands and a counter of sinks, I stood steady as a rock.

“I’m okay, see?”

Andy Murphy said, “There’s a pretty big knot coming up on your forehead. Emergency docs should check you out at Metro, give you a CT scan. If you were my sister, I’d insist on that. It’s the right thing to do, Lindsay.”

“Thanks. No. I’ll call my husband. He’ll drive me home.”

“We can’t make you come with us, but you do have to sign this,” said the paramedic, handing me a release. I signed it with a flourish. I thanked everyone. Brenda walked with me to my desk and I called Joe. I was scared, but I tried not to let him hear the throbbing freak-out in my voice.

I still hadn’t made an appointment to see Dr. Glenn Arpino, but I had to do it. I couldn’t justify putting it off any longer. Problem was, I was pretty sure that I now knew what was wrong with me.

It was a terrifying thought, and I couldn’t bear it. So I shoved it to the back burner.

I would deal with it tomorrow.

CHAPTER 93

YUKI WATCHED MARC Christopher squirm in one of the two metal-frame chairs across from her desk.

He leaned his crutch against the second chair. She moved her lamp a few inches, placed her phone where Marc could see it, and pressed Record.

“I’m recording our meeting.”

“Why?”

“You have a problem speaking on the record, Marc?”

“I guess not. But why do you want to do it?”

“I want to ask you some questions about Paul Yates,” Yuki said. “I’ve seen his death certificate. It’s official. Suicide by hanging. Do you have any idea why he killed himself?”

Marc’s defiance withered, and it looked like tears were about to spring out of his eyes. Yuki really didn’t care.

Marc cleared his throat a couple of times and said, “I just heard. It’s horrible. I haven’t spoken with Paul since, I don’t know. A week. I don’t know what to say.”

Yuki asked him again. “Marc. Do you have any thoughts why he would have hanged himself?”

“You’re asking if it’s about what happened during the trial?”

Yuki didn’t answer, just kept her eyes on Marc.

Marc said, “Maybe you’re right. Oh, man. He’s a pretty sensitive guy. Was. I shouldn’t have even told you about him. You would never have even heard his name if it weren’t for me. Oh, my God. I don’t know what to do or say. I want it all to stop.”

“Did you know that when Paul was in college, he was arrested for trying to blackmail a professor?”

Marc looked at her as if she were pointing a gun at him.

He said, “No. Of course not.”