Hold On

“Okay, then, Ms. Derian, we’ll get to it,” Garrett started, flipping his open. “Officer Fink says you called it in. Did you—”

“Heard the gunshots but didn’t know what I was hearin’,” she cut him off to declare. “Never heard nothin’ like that. Was sleepin’, it woke me up, and I just laid there. Just fuckin’ laid there, wonderin’ what the fuck that was.” She shook her head. “Nothin’ happens around here anymore. Only got four neighbors left on this street, so things are quiet. Couldn’t figure out what that noise was. So I just laid there.”

Garrett and Mike didn’t move even as her last declaration made her face change, her entire demeanor change.

Anger leaking out.

Shock coming in.

This would be followed by the pain.

“You here alone, Ms. Derian?” Garrett asked quietly.

She shook her head sharply like she was shaking herself into shape, and she focused on Garrett. “Yeah.”

“You give Ellen a name of someone she can call so you got someone you trust close?” Garrett asked.

“I’m good,” she declared.

Mike entered the conversation. “Please give Ellen a name of someone she can call so you got someone close.”

Marscha Derian sucked her lower lip between her teeth and bit it.

Then she looked at Ellen, who was hanging back, and gave her the name and number of someone to call.

Ellen took notes, and the minute Marscha was done talking, she stepped out of the room.

“You heard the gunshots,” Garrett prompted quietly.

“Shoulda known,” Marscha declared.

“Known what?” Mike asked.

She looked to Mike. “Wendy, she likes the bad boys. Always did. Got suspended from high school twice because of shit her boyfriends were into. And yeah, I said boyfriendzzzzz.” She emphasized the z’s as well as her statement even though neither Garrett nor Mike questioned it. “Went from one loser to another. Not only never learned, they just got worse.”

“Are you saying you’re aware that your sister was associating with someone you considered dangerous?” Mike asked.

“Uh…yeah,” she answered with heavy sarcasm. “She was associatin’ with a lot of fuckwits that I considered dangerous. So did my brothers. My other sister. Our mom and dad. All her decent friends. And by associatin’, I mean suckin’ their dicks and takin’ their shit.”

Christ.

“Maybe we should get to the gunshots you heard. Then we’ll move on to the people Wendy spent time with,” Garrett suggested.

“Nothin’ to say about those shots since I’m a goddamned idiot. Heard that shit. Just laid there. Just laid there while someone was shootin’ my sister outside my goddamned house.”

“If you haven’t heard the sound of gunshots before, it isn’t unusual that you wouldn’t immediately know what they were,” Mike assured.

“I shoulda known,” she retorted.

“Because the company Wendy kept?” Mike pressed.

“Because the company Wendy kept,” Marscha spat.

“Outside the gunshots,” Garrett cut in. “Did you see anything? Hear anything?”

She looked to him. “I heard bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. Four times. I heard ’em all. They were loud. Woke up laid there. Then it hit me, got up, went to the window, looked outside. Saw Wendy’s car, the lights on, nothin’ else. She’d been out all night. Didn’t tell me where she was or when she was comin’ home. Just told me yesterday she was goin’ out and then she left. Saw her car and it finally hit me what those sounds were. Ran out there. Saw her sittin’ there, starin’. Car was on. She was in it. Just sittin’ there, bleedin’ and starin’.”

Marscha Derian was now shaking.

Garrett edged slightly closer, urging carefully, “Think you should sit down now, ma’am.”

She needed no further encouragement. She shuffled back until her calves hit the couch and she plopped onto it.

Garrett looked toward the entryway and saw Ellen there. She nodded.

A friend was on the way.