Easy Innocence

Chapter 44

DESPITE THE paramedic's insistence that she go to the hospital, Georgia borrowed a cell and called her friend Sam, who drove over and took Georgia back to her place. The next morning Sam drove her back to assess the damage. The hardwood floor was badly burned with black scorch marks across it, and her living room furniture was beyond repair. Between the smoke and the flames, most of her clothes in the hall closet were ruined, too. Had she been the type of woman who liked to shop, it would have been a windfall, but for her, replacing them would be a chore.

Her neighbors had fared better. Aside from the smoky odor that permeated the building and would linger for days, no one had suffered a significant loss. In fact, everyone, including Pete, was back in their apartment.

She was making another tour of the place when she noticed a ring of spidery concentric circles on the bottom of the living room window. She stopped to examine the markings. In the center of the circle was a small but distinct conical hole. She knew what made a hole like that. It wasn't a fire.

A chill ran up her spine. She peered through the window at the house across the street. She saw the tricycle and the red wagon, the embankment in back. Plenty of space for a sniper's nest. She turned around, imagining the trajectory of a bullet across her living room. She hurried to the opposite wall. There was a black hole in the drywall, the kind of hole that could have been made by a bullet that penetrated into the wall. She looked back at the table where she'd placed the candle that started the fire. It was along the same trajectory.

***

"Who did you tick off?" the Evanston dick asked.

"I don't know," she said. She'd debated whether to call the police, then decided it was stupid not to. When they arrived, she pointed out the embankment across the street where the shooter was likely holed up. She wasn't surprised when they didn't find any shell casings or footprints or other evidence. They didn't find the bullet, either. It had probably burrowed into the wall and was buried somewhere in the building's studs, maybe even the brick on the other side.

"So you have no idea who might have taken a shot at you?"

She told him she was working on the Sara Long case but said she had no idea who might be responsible. He said they'd investigate. He also said he'd talk to Robby Parker.

"And Dan O'Malley," Georgia said.

He nodded, but she didn't expect much. Evanston PD would run with it for a while, but without hard evidence beyond a bullet hole, or a victim, they'd move on. Drive-by shootings weren't unheard of in Evanston. Still, she was glad that they'd tell Parker. Maybe it would make him think twice about the strength of his case. And if anything happened to her, at least it was on record she'd been threatened.

After the detective left, Georgia drove to Carson's and bought three pairs of jeans, a couple of sweaters, turtlenecks, and a new jacket in less than an hour. Then she stopped in at the drug store to pick up a few essentials. She spent the rest of the day filing an insurance claim, replacing her driver's license, cell phone, and calling around for estimates on new furniture.

She thought about calling Lauren to suggest she ditch school for a day or two. Whoever was coming after her might turn their attention to Lauren instead. It wouldn't be a bad idea for her to lay low. But she didn't; she didn't want to scare the girl more than she already was. What she should do was call Lauren's mother and tell her to take care of her daughter. To stop drinking her Goddamm wine and pay attention to someone else. No one, even Lauren, should have to cope with the lack of a mother's protection.

But she didn't do that either. Andrea Walcher would almost certainly hang up on her before she delivered the message.

***