“What happened next?”
“Kirsten called 911, and I called Jerry. I, um …” She blushed. “I asked Grant to hold me. Then I woke up here.”
“Speaking of waking up,” Marilyn nodded toward Kirsten stretching in the chair, blinking her blue eyes at them. “I think your roommate just joined us. I’m Detective Marilyn Fox, Ms. Holland.”
Kirsten finished removing her earphones and frowned at Sophie. “I told you to wake me up when the detective got here!”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to Sophie on her own first,” Marilyn said.
“Oh,” Kirsten responded, bleary-eyed. “That makes sense.”
“And now I need to interview you separately, Ms. Holland, so why don’t we let Sophie get some rest?”
Kirsten stood and followed Marilyn.
“You can call me Kirsten, Detective. Is it all right if I call you Marilyn?”
“Of course, Kirsten.”
“Oh, good,” said Kirsten. “I thought you were going to be all cold and standoffish like Officer Stone.”
“Oh, he’s not cold at all,” Marilyn protested as they left the room.
*
By the time Marilyn and Kirsten returned, Sophie’s father had resumed his place at her bedside. He gently held Sophie’s hand as she snoozed and gazed apprehensively at her, seemingly worried she’d stop breathing at any moment.
“It took you long enough to get here, Detective,” Will quietly seethed, ignoring Kirsten.
Marilyn raised her eyebrows. “It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Taylor.”
He released his daughter’s hand and tenderly placed it on the sheet, turning expectantly to the detective. “So, what’s the update?”
“Well, sir, I arrested Grant Madsen—”
“Good.”
“Although Sophie’s and Kirsten’s stories corroborate that he was acting in self-defense.”
“That’s bullshit! You have to keep that man away from my daughter, Detective.”
“Dad?” Sophie’s weak voice made him swivel and find her sleepy eyes staring up at him. “Please be nice.”
“You can’t be serious, Sophie. He’s from a Mafia family!”
“But he isn’t a criminal like them. He doesn’t work for them.”
“Actually,” Marilyn interrupted, “he told me that before Carlo came to your place, he’d been at his and threatened him. Grant agreed to start working for them so Carlo wouldn’t hurt you, Sophie.”
Sophie’s heart ached even more for Grant.
“This is great, just great,” Will sputtered. “You know what, Sophie? Just go to your Mafia boyfriend, I don’t care. You two can commit your little crime spree together, Bonnie and Clyde style. But when you go back to prison, don’t expect me to come visit you.”
“Visit me in prison?” Sophie cried. “I’ve already learned not to expect that, Dad.”
In the midst of the family squabble, a grin of recognition spread across Marilyn’s face. “Bonnie,” she said out loud, causing Will and Sophie to pause their argument. “I finally get why Grant called you that.” She winked at Sophie.
Sophie’s cheeks flamed.
Suddenly Marilyn seemed to come to her senses, and she officiously announced, “I have to leave now. I have to make a notification of death. You two need to let Ms. Taylor rest, and I’ll be in touch.” Smiling briefly at Sophie, Marilyn quickly left the hospital room, taking a deep breath as she strode down the corridor. She was headed to a Mafia compound, the home of one Angelo Barberi.
*
Joe stood by his chair as his nephew was brought into the interrogation room. Grant’s hands were cuffed in front of him and his eyes were huge. He held his breath, waiting for Joe’s reaction.
“Sit, Madsen,” the officer barked, and both Madsen men took their seats.
“You have fifteen minutes,” he informed them before exiting.
“I think we’ve done this once before,” Joe said.
Expecting to receive a tongue-lashing, Grant was surprised when instead Joe asked, “How are you doing?”
“Fine.” Grant nodded. “Now that I know Sophie is okay, they can do whatever they want to me. I don’t care.”
“Well, I care,” Joe insisted, more loudly than he intended. Lowering his voice, he continued, “I’m going to get you an attorney.”
“It’s too expensive,” Grant countered. “I’ll just take the court-appointed guy.”
“Yeah, ‘cause that worked out so great for you last time.”
Grant looked down at his cuffed hands. He hated putting Joe through this again. “Maybe I won’t have to go back inside for as long this time,” he mumbled.
“Maybe you won’t have to go back inside at all. It was clearly self-defense.”
He forced his eyes upward to meet Joe’s. “I killed Carlo, Joe. I killed my cousin.”
“He held you at gunpoint! He shot Sophie! H-h-he murdered your brother!”
But Grant looked guilty as hell, and Joe became even more incensed. “Goddamn it!” he shouted, rising from his chair.
Grant cringed.
“Why do you blame yourself for all of this?” Joe raged. “It’s not your fault! You can’t help which family you were born into!”
“I’m sorry,” Grant said.
Watching his nephew tremble, Joe rested his hands on the back of his chair and tried to take a deep breath. Yelling at Grant wasn’t going to help anything. Joe realized he had buried one nephew and found the other arrested for murder, all in the span of ten hours, and he suddenly felt exhausted. He took his seat.
“I know what you did,” Joe said after a moment.
Grant’s heart beat faster.
“I know why you went to prison before. Ashley told me Logan and Carlo threatened to kill me unless you pulled that robbery.”
Grant looked away. When he finally looked back at Joe, he found his uncle’s blue eyes glistening with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me, Grant?”
“I didn’t want to drag you any further into this mess. It wasn’t your fault your sister married my dad. You already had to take care of me all my life—you didn’t ask for that burden. And then I went and screwed it all up. I must seem so ungrateful for all that you’ve done for me.”
“Don’t you understand?” Joe pleaded, grasping Grant’s arm. “You were never a burden to me. When your mother died …” He felt tears prickle the back of his eyes, and he tried to blink them away. “When Karita died, the only thing that got me through was you. I was so proud to adopt you and have you as my son. Never forget that.”
Grant didn’t know what to say. Joe’s powerful grip on his arm finally released.
“Karita fell in love with her ‘tall, dark, and handsome Italian man,’ and I tried to talk her out of marrying him, but she was determined. She had no idea what he was—she had no idea what she was getting into. But you know what? I’m glad she married Enzo.”
Grant looked startled.
“I’m glad she married your dad because they produced two amazing boys. I have loved you both all my life.”
Feeling a lump in his throat, Grant acknowledged, “I love you too.”