The Bars Between Us

23. Doubts

Sitting next to Roman in bed, Nixon's case file spread out around me, I reread my notes of the main points in the case back over:

- Grace's blood soaked through Nixon's clothes, however, exposed skin was clean. Was he helping her? Has the amount of blood obscured the spray that would have happened from the stabbing? Why would he wash his skin? To get rid of the spray?

- Motive: jealous of possible affair? Witness account later in file. Found no proof of an affair, or any possible people involved with Grace. Was there an affair? Police did a DNA test of the child and found it to be Nixon's.

- Possible motive: Crime scene photos show suitcases near the front door of the empty apartment. The clothes were angrily(?) thrown around the apartment. The file says that Grace had given notice that she was leaving the city to the landlord. Nixon and Grace lived apart. Was Nixon angry at Grace leaving? Was she running away with someone? Did that someone get fed up of her and killed her?

- The perpetrator wore gloves, as no fingerprints were found on the knife.

I pause before reading the next point, knowing that this is the probably the most incriminating.

- Nixon arrived at the apartment (evidence from CCTV) just after four in the afternoon. The time of death happened around 18.30. What happened between 18.30 and 20.42 when Nixon called 911? No evidence of him leaving before the police arrived.

I close my eyes. Scott was right, all the evidence points towards Nixon being the guilty party, but for some reason my gut is still telling me that he's innocent. I've been trying to find anything I have missed for hours, looking at the same parts I have read over and over, trying to find something that reassures me that I made the right decision.

Roman promptly fell back asleep after I had refilled his glass, which was a blessing. Clayton must have given him something that made him drowsy. I press my palms against my eyes, collecting all the papers up, and placing them on the corner of my bedside table. I look to the alarm clock and see that it's nearing ten. Tired from the physical and emotional strain of the day, I decide to get ready for bed. I stretch as I stand up from the bed. My wrist twinges slightly, even after I took some painkillers like Clayton ordered, as I pull my clothes off and change into my pajamas. I grit my teeth and battle through, brushing my teeth and pulling my blond hair up into a ponytail, noticing that the cut on my forehead is almost healed fully. I shut the light off as I leave the bathroom, looking at Roman sprawled out on the bed. I should really warn him about Piper coming over tomorrow. It'll be worse if it's sprung on him. I also should see how he is.

I slide under the covers, after turning the main light off, and replace the source of light with the bedside lamp. Shaking Roman's shoulder slightly, I form the best way to tell him in my mind so he'll agree to it. He opens his eyes, but keeps them half closed in a glare.

"Yes?" he asks with a slight edge to his tone. I don't know whether to be glad or disappointed that he's feeling better.

"I was just wondering how are you feeling?"

"I was fine, until you woke me up," he grumbles as he turns over.

"You think you'll be well enough for work tomorrow?" I ask staring at the opposite wall.

"Clay suggested I take tomorrow off," Roman lets me know. That doesn't give me an answer, he might have suggested that, but is Roman going to listen to him? He probably will, but if I had suggested it, he would have brushed me off.

"Oh," I say marginally disappointed. I decide to follow Clayton's suggestion also, and alter my already formed sentence a bit to fit with the situation.

"Well, I'm going to be home early tomorrow as Piper's coming over for dinner," I tell him, hoping that it means there is no room for argument. Roman turns back over, and pushes himself up so he can look me in the eyes. "I organized it before I knew you were ill," I add in a mumble when I see his calculating look, it breaking down my confidence and resolve to make him let me. "I can cancel if you want." An evil smile slowly touches his lips, which has my blood running cold and me wanting to cancel anyway. I don't want to know why he's smiling like that.

"No, let her come. It'll be enlightening to talk to your best friend." I give him a quivering smile. It feels like a hollow victory, because now I'm dreading to see what Roman has planned.

"That's great!" I tell him unenthusiastically. I ponder whether to cancel anyway, but I've been looking forward to seeing her and I don't want to let Roman spoil that. I'm jolted out of my thoughts and worried when I hear Roman snap at me to turn the light off. I sigh and turn onto my side, looking away from Roman, trying to silence my thoughts so I can get the sleep I desperately want. The image of Nixon's hurt and angry face is the last thing I see before the slumber takes over me.

Here you go!

Sorry for the delay again! It might be out of whack for a couple of weeks as I am busy trying to get some stuff done! I don't want to stop writing this book, or others, as I love to do it! I wanted to give a short explanation as to why the parts might not be weekly!

If you read on Radish, I'm sorry that there was no part for the last couple of weeks, one will be going up today!

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