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Chapter Seven
BUMBLING TO MY FEET, I stumbled into the house, groped the medicine cabinet for ibuprofen, swallowed three capsules, and downed a full glass of water. Weaving my way to the den, I flopped onto the couch and passed out again. My sleep interfused with images of Ashleigh. Ashleigh straddling me laughing and flirting, her beads pressing against my neck. Ashleigh in white thigh-high stockings with snakes crawling all over her naked body. Ashleigh’s lips against mine. Ashleigh biting a hole in my cheek.
At 6:30 a.m., I awoke trembling. My clothes were still wet and every inch of my body ached. The last thing I could remember was passing out on Ashleigh’s bed. God, what must she think of me?
I tripped up the stairs, toppled into the shower, and stripped away my clothes. There were scratches on the back of my right hand. I wondered how I’d gotten them, how I’d gotten home, and if I’d made a fool of myself doing it. I turned the water on a
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My Sister's Keeper Chapter Eight
I LED SAM AND THE POLICEMEN into the kitchen as Sam introduced the two with him—a skinny white man named Melrose with the wide lip-less mouth of a lizard, and Crabby Staten, an older black man with gray sideburns and a thick scar across his nose. The heavy-set one, Staten, stood next to me with his arms folded like a nightclub bouncer. Lizard Lips set a black satchel on the breakfast table and stepped closer. Jones fished a small writing pad and mechanical pencil from his shirt pocket. “What’s going on, Sam?” I asked. “Something happen to Ashleigh?” “When did you see her last?” he asked, flipping through the pages of the notepad. I felt as if all three of them were watching me a little too intensely. The muscles in my neck knotted as I considered the reaction I’d get from my answer. “Last night.” That struck a chord and all three of them shifted in unison—like dancers in a Broadway production. Jones widened his stance as he made a note on his pad. Staten adju
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Nine
THE NEXT MORNING I was dressed and downtown by 7:30. Like my mood, the weather had turned cold and blustery—not the best for Azalea Festival Week. I pulled my collar up against my neck for the short walk to Tripp’s Ham and Eggs still stunned by the events of the night before. Inside, I tracked to the same table with the same five other guys I join for breakfast most every morning.Sappy Talton was doing his customarily splendid job of getting our waitress Sheila flustered and confused. Sappy and I had been best friends since eighth grade when we stole a pack of Lucky Strikes and a can of Miller’s Beer from Smith’s IGA, which started a summer of wildness that cemented our friendship forever.A burst of laughter spread through the group as I took a seat. That’s what I like about these guys. They’re relaxed and fun to be around. No heavy burdens allowed.Besides Sappy, there was Fred Gorman, a salt and pepper-haired fish
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Ten
ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT for the rest of the morning was Joe’s admonitions and how he’d acted. My creativity was gone and I couldn’t concentrate. I made it through my first appointment on pure instinct. My eleven o’clock was an on-site conference with the younger sister of a girl I dated back in high school. Pulling into the parking lot of the Deagan Dance Center a few minutes early, I parked next to a black Mazda van lettered with the school’s logo. I’d driven by this place thousands of times, but had never paid much attention to it. The grounds were well-kept and framed with gigantic oak trees budding with new life and dripping with long strands of Spanish moss.I entered a spacious lobby plastered with dance-related posters, informational signs, photographs, and three large TV monitors high on one wall each showing a different empty classroom. Long wooden benches lined three sides of the lobby, and there was a receptionist center
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Eleven
WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR, Sam slapped a search warrant into my hand and walked in without invitation. As a photographer followed, a knot tightened in my gut. There are times when you draw the line and dare someone to cross it, and times when you open wide and take the drill. This was a root canal without Novocain. Staten went immediately to dusting the den for fingerprints. Lizard Lips headed for the kitchen and the photographer stuck out his hand to shake.“I’ve always wanted to meet you, Mr. Baimbridge. Danny Butler.” He carried a fairly inexpensive digital camera with a Metz strobe. I forced the warrant into the pocket with the panties and shook his hand. “I really hope to have my own studio someday,” he said, “and do the kind of work you do.”“Don’t wait too long to get started,” I said, my voice flat. “Dreams have a way of slipping away.”“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that.&
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Twelve
I STARED AT THAT FLASHLIGHT and the red smear feeling as if I was standing before my father once again being accused of something I didn’t do. Don’t lie to me! The skin on my back felt as if it was crawling around under my shirt. “Is this your flashlight?” Sam asked. “It…looks like it.” “What’s it doing here?” “I don’t know. I didn’t put it there.” “You think Ashleigh did?” The photographer nudged in next to me focusing his camera on the flashlight. I stepped back. “I swear to you I have no idea how it got there.” The strobe went off and the camera beeped. “Could Ashleigh have done it?” Lizard Lips asked. My mouth felt hot. “Of course she could have. I was passed out on the deck. Anybody could have done it.” The man’s tongue danced back and forth across his lower lip. “But, did she?” My stomach soared and I burped. “As far as I know there were only two of us and I was passed out in the rain.” An
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Thirteen
AFTER DIRECTING A SUCCESSFUL run of Tennessee Williams’ A Streetcar Named Desire my first year back, and Neil Simon’s California Suite the second, I was asked by the Board of Directors of the Thalian Association to direct Stephen Patterson’s brilliant new play, Laying Down the Law, making its world premiere that fall in Wilmington. It was the break I needed. It would open a great many doors for me and might even change the way my father saw me.Unlike most directors, I insisted on longer rehearsal periods and, since the theatre’s rehearsal halls were not available yet, used my own studio. I pushed all the equipment in the 40x60 camera room back against the walls, arranged a couple pieces of furniture in the center of the room, and aimed a few lights down from overhead to simulate a “stage.”As Sam and his team pawed through my house, I headed off to our first rehearsal. From the moment the first actor arriv
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fourteen
AT POLICE HEADQUARTERS, they moved the cuffs around to the front and escorted me into a room with four metal chairs, a metal table, and what I was sure was a two-way mirror. Forty-five minutes later Sam Jones joined me tossing a thick manila envelope on the table. He had a strange look on his face as he set up a tape recorder on the table and started it recording. He then sat, identified the two of us for the tape, propped his elbows on the table rubbing his face with both hands.“I’m going to help you, Richard,” he said, his voice calm, quiet. “I’m going to do everything I can for you.”“I appreciate that, Sam. So why am I here?”He smiled the smile of a man who had the answers to the test before he took it. “I know you did it. Ain’t no sense denying it.”“What the hell are you talking about, Sam?”He rubbed his eyes with his hands. “I’m going to do everythin
My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifteen
PEARL BAIMBRIDGE SAT on the edge of her daughter’s bed as the Channel 3 News began: “A local photographer was taken into custody for questioning earlier tonight in the case of missing twenty-three-year-old Ashleigh Matthews.”Pearl clutched Martha’s hand. “This is going to devastate your father.”“Teresa Hedge has more in this live report.”The picture changed to a female reporter standing in front of Ashleigh’s house holding a microphone.“Police arrested Wilmington photographer Richard Baimbridge earlier this evening on suspicion of murder in connection with the case of missing twenty-three-year-old Ashleigh Matthews.”Martha had taken a Percocet tablet that left her groggy and thick-tongued. “Oh, Richie,” she moaned as they played video of Richard being paraded through a crowd of reporters and pushed into the back of a police car. Tears strea
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- My Sister's Keeper Epilogue
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Nine
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Eight
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Seven
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Six
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Five
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Four
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Three
- My Sister's Keeper Chapter Fifty-Two
