by M K Farrar
“Odd jobs, as far as I’m aware, but I really couldn’t tell you any details about his financial situation.”
Had this man really died with no one in his life? Erica found herself filled with sadness on behalf of a stranger.
She tried one more idea. “What about school?” Perhaps there would be someone there who might remember him or who he’d stayed in touch with. “Where did he go?”
“I know what you’re trying to do, Detective, but you’re wasting your time. We both went to a private school that closed down shortly after we’d left. You won’t get any leads there.”
Erica let out a sigh. “Okay, thank you for your time. If you think of anything that might help, please, do call back.”
“I will.”
She ended the call and sat with her head in her hands. This wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Shawn slipped out of work and hoped he wouldn’t be missed. He’d been working all day and was already well into overtime, but when Erica got her claws into a case like she had with this one, there never seemed to be any official time off.
He parked around the corner from the group of warehouses where Trev said his son was known to hang out. His car was unmarked, but in Shawn’s experience, kids like this one had an intrinsic sense for anything to do with the police, and the moment they spotted the car, they’d make a run for it.
He was already regretting agreeing to this, but they were family and he felt obligated to help. He’d managed to break free of the cycle of crime and poverty, so how could he turn his back on someone who was desperate for his son to do the same? Trev said he’d already tried to talk to Rocco on numerous occasions and hadn’t got anywhere, and he didn’t want to go down the route of getting his son arrested.
The warehouses were positioned in a square around a large carpark. Each warehouse had rolling shutters with an overhanging roof that would serve as shelter for whoever was loading and unloading the vans. It was afterhours now, so the place was all but deserted. A few security lights were dotted around, but they were nowhere near enough to keep the place lit, and instead only served to create deep pockets of darkness where people could hide.
Shawn stayed out of sight, pressed between two buildings. For a moment, he didn’t think anyone was there. Trev might have got it wrong, and his son could easily be spending time somewhere else. But then the low murmur of voices drifted over to him, and he froze. Rocco wasn’t alone, which was going to make his job harder. He wasn’t about to approach a gang of youths. It was no secret that plenty of young people carried knives these days, and he was unarmed. He had no intention of getting stabbed just to do a mate a favour. He would have to wait until Rocco was on his own. Perhaps Rocco would walk home by himself, and Shawn could catch him then.
How long was that going to be? He didn’t want to be standing here all evening. He had better things to do with his time.
Someone laughed, and Shawn leaned out slightly to try to catch a glimpse. Four young men—or boys really, even though they were the size of men—stood in one of the loading bays. Trev had shown Shawn a recent photograph of Rocco that he’d had on his phone, and Shawn had got Trev to send it over to him. He opened it now and used it to pinpoint which of the boys was Rocco. He recognised him instantly, the tallest of all four. No wonder Trev was struggling to control him.
Shawn didn’t know anything about parenting. The closest he’d come was spending time with Erica’s daughter, and that was hardly the same thing. Being in the company of a little girl who seemed to dote on everything he said must be very different to getting through to a surly teen who already thought he had the world figured out. Maybe Poppy’s time would come, and she’d start giving Erica a hard time, but he hoped not. Erica had already been through so much, and having Poppy to come home to was her escape from it all. Though Erica had her sister’s help, parenting alone couldn’t be easy. He admired her every single day, her indomitable presence at work, her gentle tenderness as a mother. Her loyalty to him as a friend. He was fully aware that she was the reason those flirty, giggly girls no longer did anything for him. But she was his boss, and they were friends, and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin that.
He turned his attention back to his reason for being here. Rocco slid his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled something out, which he then handed over to one of the others. Shawn was standing some distance away, but he was sure he caught a glimpse of a white rectangle of folded card.
Shit. Was the kid dealing drugs? How was he supposed to turn a blind eye to this? All he could hope was that whatever was in that packet was something that could be classed as a misdemeanour, but he had the feeling it would be a class A drugs. He’d told Trev he wouldn’t arrest Rocco, but if Rocco was carrying anything substantial, he wasn’t going to be left with much of a choice.
The boys all bumped fists, and then Rocco walked off. Shawn let him get a reasonable distance away from the others before he stepped out, his ID in one hand. “Police! Hold it right there.”
“Fuck,” Rocco muttered.
“You want to tell me what was in that wrap I just saw you slip to that other kid?”
Rocco scowled. “Flour.”
“Don’t take the piss.”
“What do you expect? That I’m going to tell you?”
It was clear Rocco had no idea who he was. “How about I go after your friends and arrest them, and find out for sure? Then I’ll come back here, and we can have a little chat about possession with the intent to supply?”
“Nah, man. You don’t have to do that.”
“You carrying anything else?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, and his lower lip stuck out in a pout. “No.”
“You want me to arrest you?”
“You’re going to do that anyway, aren’t you?”
Rocco let out a long sigh and reached back into his jacket pocket. Shawn braced, aware the boy might be carrying a knife, but instead he brought out three more packets of the drugs.
“What’s in them?” Shawn asked. “Coke?”
“Nah, it’s just speed. It’s no big deal.”
“It is a big deal, Rocco. It’s a big fucking deal.”
Rocco blinked. “How do you know my name?”
“I’m your dad’s cousin, so I guess that makes us second cousins. He asked me to have a chat with you, but he didn’t mention anything about me finding you dealing.”
He sucked air in over his teeth. “My dad? I can’t believe he set the fucking pigs on me.”
“Be grateful I’m the one who’s busted you instead of someone else. You could be in deep shit for this.”
“I am in deep shit for it, but I don’t care about the cops. If you take those wraps off me, I’ll be in trouble. I’m expected to sell them. If I don’t give them back their money, I’ll end up in the damned river.”
“Then give me their name, and I’ll pass this on to the drugs squad. We can take them down from the top.”
He shook his head and scuffed his foot against the ground. “That’s bullshit, dude, and you know it. You might arrest one or two of them, but they all have friends, and if this gets back to me, I’m dead.”
Fucking hell. Shawn knew he shouldn’t have got involved. He wished he’d just told Trev that he wouldn’t do it. He’d been hoping to help, and it had backfired. Should he arrest Rocco here and now? He struggled with what to do. He didn’t want to make a call to Trev and tell him he’d arrested his son for supplying narcotics, but what choice did he have? It was either that or walk away?
“If we bust you, the people above you won’t come anywhere near you,” he said eventually.
“They’ll know I’ve been talking to you. They’ll come after me.”
“Not if we make a big song and dance about it. If it’s a full bust and we make sure everyone sees it, they’ll just think you’ve gone down as well.”
“How the fuck is that going to happen? So I’ll end up in juvie
? Or worse. This is fucking great. I don’t know what shit you fed to my dad, but I bet it wasn’t that you were going to bust me.”
Shawn gritted his teeth. “No, he asked me to have a word with you, to try and make you see that there are other ways of living instead of this. It is possible to live a different kind of life. I did.”
Rocco snorted. “I’m not becoming a pig.”
“You don’t have to, but you also don’t have to become a criminal.”
He shook his head. “What do you know? You think these people are just going to let me walk away? You’re deluded, man.”
“They won’t come near you if they think that by doing so it will put them and their business in danger.”
His mind turned everything over. He knew one thing—he couldn’t let Erica know about this. She would put her own career in jeopardy to protect him, and he wouldn't let her do that. She’d already lost so much. This wasn’t her problem.
He knew a couple of decent coppers in the drugs squad who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut. If they did a very public raid on Rocco’s house, and dragged the boy out in handcuffs, word was bound to get around to the gang quickly enough. They lived on an estate where everyone knew everyone, and police presence got noticed within seconds. They’d help if it meant getting intel from Rocco that they could use further down the line. Acting on it too soon would make it obvious that the boy had spilled the beans, but if they waited a couple of months, they hopefully wouldn’t make the connection.
“Go home, Rocco. Tell your dad I’ve spoken to you and that I’ll be in touch.”
“What are you going to do with the drugs?”
“You’re not getting them back. Tell your dad he’s going to need to give you the money to replace the cost of them and then hand it over to whoever you’re working for and act like nothing’s happened. I’ll figure out a way to get you out of this, but once you are, I swear to God you’d better stay out of it. I’m putting my career and the career of others on the line to help you out. You get one chance, that’s it. If you don’t grab it with both hands and steer the course of your life in a different direction, there won’t be anyone around to help you next time. It’ll be a future of prison stays for you. Got it?”
Rocco glanced to the ground, but he nodded his agreement.
“I want to hear you say it,” Shawn said.
“Yeah, I got it.”
“Good. Now go home.”
Rocco put his head down, shoved his hands in his pockets, and sauntered off with a swagger.
Shawn sighed and shook his head after the boy. He had no idea if this was going to make any difference to Rocco’s life, or if he’d just carry on heading down the wrong road, but at least Shawn had tried.
He became aware of how he was now standing alone in a dimly lit industrial estate and he hurried back to his car. He climbed behind the wheel and hit the button so all the doors locked around him with a clunk. Then he pulled out his phone and made a call to one of his colleagues in the drug’s squad.
“Hey, Mike. It’s Shawn Turner. Sorry to bother you so late. I need a favour...”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bethany couldn’t even bring herself to be happy that it was Friday and there was no school tomorrow. Friday simply meant she was stuck at home with her parents for the next two days, and she wasn’t sure if that was any better than going to school.
There was one thing that was giving her hope, and that was going to the gathering tonight. She’d thought about it a lot and decided she would go back. She’d kept the necklace he’d given her hidden under her shirt all day, and each time something had upset her, instead of reaching for her hair, she placed her hand to the charm.
Her mum called her down for dinner—a bolognaise pasta bake—and Bethany ate with nerves twisting her stomach, making it hard for her to swallow. She needed to mention to her parents that she was going out again, and they were bound to ask questions that she didn’t want to answer. She considered sneaking out, but it was too early, and it wasn’t as though her parents would be in bed at that time or anything. She was bound to be spotted.
She cleared her throat and forced the words from her mouth. “I’m going to meet up with some friends again at seven. We need to take more photos for our school project.”
Her mother frowned. “Twice in a row? That’s not like you.”
She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “It’s just for a project. It’s not a big deal. I’ll only be an hour or so.” She rushed on. “And you’re always saying that I should get out of my room more, and now here I am, trying to get out of my room, and you’re being dramatic about it.”
Her mother held up her hand and laughed. “I’m not being dramatic, I was only checking. Of course you can meet your friends.”
“Thanks,” she muttered and forked some more pasta into her mouth.
She sensed someone staring at her and lifted her gaze to find her mother watching her, her lips pinched.
What now?
“Maybe we should think about getting you another mobile phone if you’re going to start going out. I don’t like to think that I can’t get hold of you if I need to.”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “Mum, I’ll be gone just over an hour to get some project work done, that’s all. It’s not like I’m going out clubbing.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did go out a bit more. Maybe not clubbing, but at least to parties and things like that. I was always out when I was your age.” She gave a small laugh. “And my mother never had any idea where I was. I suppose I should be grateful that you’re not more badly behaved.”
You didn’t look like me when you were sixteen. If you were a freak, you’d have hidden in your bedroom all day, too.
Except now she wasn’t going to hide in her bedroom. She was going out, to be with people, and be social. She might even start making some friends—real friends, not ones who turned their back on you just because she was a bit different. Hope bloomed in her heart, and the feeling terrified her. If she allowed herself to hope, then she could be let down again, and most of her life, all she could ever remember was being let down.
“I have to get ready,” she said, her food only half eaten. She snatched up her plate and carried it over to the sink.
“Bethany, you’ve barely finished,” her dad admonished.
“I’m full, and if I keep eating, I’m going to be late.”
“Can I come?” Florence piped up.
“No, sorry, kiddo. Past your bedtime.”
The little girl pouted. “Not fair. I don’t get to do anything.”
“Yes, you do,” their mother placated. “We’ve got your friend’s birthday party this weekend, remember.” She turned and mouthed ‘go’ at Bethany, who gratefully slid out of the door.
She wasn’t going to be late, but she was still nervous. What if she got there and they weren’t meeting tonight? She didn’t want to get to his house and be the only one there. That would be weird. At least when there were other people, she didn’t feel so conspicuous.
Bethany did the twenty-minute walk, her brain whirring the whole way.
She stopped outside the door and sucked in a breath. One thing she missed about not having a phone was having the automatic protection and distraction—you could use one as a shield against the rest of the world, make it appear as though you were busy even when you weren’t.
Another girl Bethany recognised as the one who’d introduced herself as Melissa was walking down the street towards her. Bethany relaxed a fraction. At least now she had someone to walk in with. It was easier that way.
“Bethany, you came back,” Melissa said, and she gave Bethany an unexpected hug.
“Yeah, I thought I’d give it another try.”
“I’m so pleased you did. Come on, let’s go in.”
Bethany followed Melissa into the house. People were already there, and she spotted their leader among them. She still found it strange seeing him like this, but she guessed that was s
omething she was going to need to get over.
She recognised the faces from the previous evening. Everyone welcomed her, the older men of the group simply giving her a nod and a smile, while those closer to her own age hugged her. She didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Soft drinks and teas and coffees were handed out, together with plates of biscuits and slices of a homemade chocolate cake. It had a vibe of a family get-together, except without the drama that normally came with extended families.
Bethany found herself smiling more than she had in a long time.
She hoped her mum wouldn’t be checking up on her—not that her mum even knew who to check up with. She didn’t have any of her so-called friends’ phone numbers. Besides, she’d be caught up with Florence and would probably forget Bethany had even gone out, which was fine by Bethany.
She sensed a presence behind her and turned to find one of the men in the group standing there.
“Oh, hi. It’s Joel, isn’t it?
“Hello, yes, it is. You’re new here, too.”
She smiled. This young man was overly intense, but she didn’t pick up any warning vibes about him. “Yes, I am. How long have you been coming here?”
“Just a bit longer than you. What do you think of it?”
“Everyone seems really nice.”
“Yes, they are nice. I’m not sure I want to kill myself, though.”
She started back at the directness of his words. “What? No, of course you wouldn’t. Why would you say that?”
“Isn’t that what he means when he says we have to give all our energy to others?”
“No, that can’t be right. I think you got a bit confused.”
His forehead furrowed. “I’m not confused. I know what he said. We have to kill ourselves to go to Heaven.”
“That’s silly. You can’t kill yourself and go to Heaven, everyone knows that.”
“Do they?”
“Of course. People who kill themselves go to Hell. The leader would never want us to go there.”
He bit his lower lip anxiously. “I suppose so.”
