Free A Cure for Madness by Jodi McIsaac

instead of the stairs when I reached his apartment building.
    He took one look at me and frowned. “You look beat.”
    “Funny, that’s exactly how I feel.”
    “I’m afraid rest will have to wait for a few more minutes. Officer Danley is here to ask you a few questions to help with the investigation of your parents’ murder.”
    “Oh . . . okay.”
    A uniformed officer stood in the hallway, arms crossed. He held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”
    “Thanks.” I wasn’t a big fan of the Clarkeston police, but I did want to help figure out what had happened to my parents—or, more to the point, why .
    We sat in the living room and he began by asking me where I lived, what I did, how often I spoke with my parents. I answered in short, clipped sentences, too tired to go into much detail.
    “Did you parents have any enemies? Any old rivalries? Business troubles?”
    I shook my head. “No, none that I know of. Most of their friends were from church.”
    “Did you know they were in debt?”
    I looked up at this. “No,” I said, surprised. “I mean . . . I’ve never really thought about it. But I’m guessing Wes’s care isn’t cheap.” There goes any inheritance for Wes.
    “This might be a difficult question, but do you think your brother had any reasons for wanting your parents dead?”
    My hackles rose. “Are you insinuating Wes was behind this?”
    “I’m just examining all possible motives,” Officer Danley said in what he probably thought was a mollifying tone.
    “Well, you can stop examining that one. Wes had nothing to do with this. He loved my parents. He would never hurt them.”
    The officer looked down at his notes. “I have a note here that says Wes once put your mother in the hospital with a broken jaw.”
    I must have looked like a fish gasping for water. “That’s not . . . they never told . . . when? ”
    He raised an eyebrow at me. “About four years ago. They never told you?”
    “We’re not . . . we weren’t super close,” I mumbled. Had Wes really attacked our mother so savagely he’d broken her jaw? Where was I four years ago? China, maybe. Or Thailand. “Listen, Wes has his violent outbursts, but he would never, ever do something like this. You know he was in the hospital when they were killed. I talked to him on the phone that night! And you know who did it: Terry Foster. Why are you even looking for someone else?”
    The officer just looked down at his notes.
    “Have you spoken with this Terry’s family? What do they have to say?” I pressed. I wanted to ask if they knew what was happening up at the hospital, if they thought there was a connection, but I didn’t want to get Kenneth in trouble.
    “We have,” he admitted. “But I can’t discuss that part of the investigation.”
    “Of course you can’t.”
    “Miss Campbell, I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m just doing my job. We need to find out exactly what happened that night. That’s what I’m trying to do.”
    I glowered at him but didn’t retort. “Is there anything else?”
    “I think that will do for now. Can we contact you if we have any more questions?”
    I nodded and stood up.
    The officer handed me his card. On his way out, he paused to speak quietly with Rob in the hall.
    Once he was gone, I asked, “How did it go with the lawyer and all that?”
    “Fine,” Rob said. “Everything’s being taken care of. Except for you, apparently. You need some sleep.”
    I didn’t even try to argue with him. “Don’t let me sleep for too long . . .” I muttered as I made a beeline for the futon in the spare room.
    “You sleep as long as you need to.”

    It was almost six o’clock when I woke up, groggy but famished. There was a note from Rob on the table.
     
Went to help my friend Diana put together some furniture. Call me if you need anything. The car is still here if you need it.
     
    I checked the fridge, but it was empty save for a bottle of ketchup, a jar of mayo, and