Fugue State Read Free Page B

She began telling him her story, but he didn’t want a narrative, only the answers to his questions. “Where were you leaving? Where were you headed?” He wanted to know the timing of the night’s events. He asked specifics about the attack. “Where did the knife come from? Who stabbed first? When and how did you gain control of the knife? How were you able to stab your attacker?” He seemed particularly intrigued by Alexa’s ability to slit Jamar’s throat.
    “Miss DeBrow, most victims aren’t capable of making such calculated moves when facing an attacker. The fact that you were able to cut through your attacker’s carotid artery with such precision speaks volumes. I can’t help but think that you are either well-trained with a knife, or you’ve done this before.” She shrugged at what seemed like an empty comment. But his words would come back to haunt her. Now she realized it was an accusation rather than an intrigue.
    Her knowledge of anatomy directed her aim that night. Perhaps she should have been clearer about that to begin with. Instead, her precision with the knife led Marcum to think that Alexa was not the victim she claimed to be, and that she killed on purpose. He indicted her on multiple weak charges of criminal homicide against her attacker, Jamar Reading, a forty-year-old African American who worked at a fish market for the four months preceding his death.
    Travis County police, led by Marcum’s investigation, deemed Jamar’s death an unreasonable use of force following his attempt of forcible rape. Detective Marcum assumed the media spotlight and worked closely with the prosecution. He seemed determined to hold her accountable.
    Alexa hurried past the ER before the horse-faced man could recognize her, although it seemed very unlikely he would find any resemblance between the polished young lady before him and the blood-covered hooker he met on the street that fateful night.
    She stopped off at the lab just down the hall to pick up her second set of blood work. Alexa glanced at the paperwork. Hepatitis C: Negative.
    Jamar’s blood was tainted with hepatitis C, a consequence of a lifetime of dabbling in IV drug usage that produced his jaundice eyes. His blood had mingled with hers via the cut on her thigh. She exhaled; relieved she wouldn’t acquire his yellow-tinged sclera.
    Exiting the garage, Alexa passed by Norma Pate once more. Nastiness still lurked in the old woman’s eyes when she grasped Alexa’s hand along with the parking pass she held. “Hand is looking bare without that rock on it.” Norma smiled to herself.
    Alexa winced at the cutting words and tugged her fingers away. She glanced at her bare left hand, and her heart yearned for Britt. She would never be Mrs. Britt Anderson. She had given back the engagement ring of her estranged fiancée a few months into the trial.
    Alexa flashed a wicked smirk at Norma and forced a quick lie. “I’ll be back by next week, Norma. See. You. Next. Tuesday.” She formed the last four words individually, hoping her listener would spell out their clandestine meaning. With a sly wave, Alexa drove away. The gawking face in the rearview mirror didn’t appear to catch the dig. Damn.
    Pulling out of the garage, she received a text message from her attorney updating her on tomorrow’s court time. She would meet with her lawyer, Jacob Appleby, at seven-forty a.m. with an eight-fifteen a.m. court time. A second text immediately followed.
    “ Get some sleep. Don’t look so tired. ”
    Alexa frowned . Sounds like a vodka martini with a double dose of Unisom kind of night. She drove past a sign on an unfamiliar building that read “Otter Creek Shooting Range.” Without even realizing she was changing her plans, Alexa turned off the street and pulled into the barren gravel parking lot.
    She didn’t know why she stopped. She’d been living in a daze for the past few months — a side effect of chronic sleep deprivation. The decision seemed hidden