by Jo Davis
He tried to make it sound like a joke, but Drew knew he wasn’t. Right then and there, he understood why Ty hung around him—the money. He wanted to sponge, and all this time he’d been buttering Drew up, getting his hooks in deeper and deeper, pretending to be a friend. Maybe he even hoped Drew would fund him and his dad in whatever scheme the man had going.
He was on to the prick now. He should just walk back to town, but he really wanted to see what was going on with Ty’s dad and Johnson. If he could help Shane with his case, it might go a long way toward easing the guilt he felt about how badly he’d treated the man.
Not to mention easing the agony in his chest over what had happened to his own dad. The guilt over how he could’ve prevented it by telling someone what he knew. The pain never left him, but maybe he could make up for everything.
So he followed Ty, once again, for what he swore was the last time.
• • •
Shane’s cell phone rang at 10:15 a.m. He was poring over case notes, barely into his second cup of coffee, and groaned at the intrusion. If he didn’t get calls every ten minutes, he might get some work done.
Checking the display, he saw a number he didn’t recognize. In his line of work, that was annoying but not unusual, so he answered. “Hello?”
“Hello, this is Marylyn Estes, and I’m the registrar at Sugarland High. May I speak to Shane Ford?”
“That’s me, Mrs. Estes. How can I help you?”
“Mr. Ford, I’m calling to check on Drew’s absences from school,” she said in a concerned voice.
A chill went through him. “His what?”
“His absences. He’s missed first period four times and seventh period six times, most of those on the same days. He’s had excessive tardies in the period after lunch as well. I know he’s turned in written notes from you excusing him, but—”
“No, I haven’t written Drew a single note excusing him from any missed school time. If he’s given the school notes, they’re forgeries. I had no idea he was skipping.”
Fuck! I swear to God—
“That’s what we were afraid of,” she said with a sigh. “I just wanted to find out whether the absences were legitimate. Nobody thought too much of them at first because of the terrible tragedy he’s been through, plus he’s such a polite boy and always came back with a note. But when they continued and he didn’t show up today, we decided to check and make you aware this was happening.”
“He’s not there now?”
“No. And his grades are suffering, because he’s not turning in the work he’s missed.”
What in the hell is that boy thinking?
“Oh, believe me, he will turn that in,” Shane said, seething. “Whether or not the teachers will allow him late credit is up to them. And he’ll be punished at home for skipping and forging my name.”
“I hate that Drew is in trouble, because he really is such a nice young man who’s just very lost right now,” she said sincerely. “But I agree he’s at the point where he needs intervention. We appreciate your support, Mr. Ford.”
“Do you think counseling would help? I’ve suggested it and he didn’t want to go, but I’m thinking I’ve made a mistake in not insisting.”
“Legally, I can’t tell you to seek outside professional counseling for him. But if it were my child . . .” She left it hanging.
“Thank you, Mrs. Estes. I’ll be looking into it.”
“You’re very welcome. His first-, fourth-, and seventh-period teachers will be contacting you. Is there anything else I can answer for you?”
“Not at the moment, but I appreciate the call.”
After hanging up, Shane slumped at his desk. That’s where Daisy found him some minutes later.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, sitting in a chair next to him.
“Drew’s been skipping school almost as frequently as he changes underwear, and he’s been forging my name on the absence notes. He’s skipping now, in fact, which is why they called me.”
“Oh no. What are we going to do?”
He blinked at her. “We?”
“I think of him as mine, too,” she said with a soft smile. “I love him and his new father, so of course it’s we.”
He gave her a smile. “You don’t know how good that makes me feel. Drew and I are lucky to have you, sugar.”
“I wish I could kiss you, but that might cause a stir.”
“Not as much as you think, since I’m pretty sure Taylor and Chris have managed to blab our status to everyone who wasn’t at the party or already in the loop.” Leslie was less than happy, but he wisely refrained from saying so.
“Still. We don’t know what’s going to happen with our jobs since we blew the No Dating Other Cops rule out of the water.”
“Yeah, but they can fire me if they want. I’m rich, remember?” He gave her a wan smile.
“You’d wither and die within a year without detective work, and you know it. But don’t worry; it won’t come to that. I’d resign first.”
She would, too. But he wouldn’t let her, so they’d figure out something.
“What are you going to do about Drew?”
“I’m going home to wait for him to show up. Then I’m going to ground his ass, and have a long talk with him doing most of the listening. I’m going to take over driving him to and from school, and I’ll sit in every one of his damned classes with him if I have to. Then he’s going to counseling—period. I know you always think I’m being too hard on him, but—”
“No, I don’t. I think you’re doing exactly the right thing.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I think I’m too easy, and I always stick up for him when he needs a firmer hand. I promise to support you more from now on.”
He didn’t think he could love her more. “I don’t think you’re too easy. He needs that with you one-on-one, but I appreciate you backing me. If we’re gonna do this family thing, we have to present a united front.”
“I agree.”
He stole a quick kiss, anyway, earning a few good-natured comments from around them. Standing, he shrugged on his jacket over his holster. “I’ll call you later.”
“Please do. I want to know he’s home safe.”
“Dinner at my house?”
“Sounds good, but I’ll cook. I have a feeling both of my men will need some mothering by then.”
“I have a feeling you’re right.”
A short time later, he wasn’t at all surprised to arrive home to an empty house. Pacing, he prepared for a long wait.
• • •
“There’s nothing going on,” Drew said. Not even a leaf was moving on Johnson’s place. “It’s obvious he’s not home. Why don’t we head back to town?”
“I’ve got a better idea. There’s an old moonshine distillery not far from here, in the hills. There’s a cabin, too, about a hundred yards from it where the old timers used to live while they made their hooch.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“The place is so cool! Think of it as a history lesson,” Ty said. “I’ll bet you’ve never seen anything like it, and there’s always old stuff lying around.”
“What, like actual hooch?”
“No, stupid. That’s all gone. But there’s jugs and some leftover equipment. Once I found a big knife and a button from a Confederate coat in the dirt.”
“That’s cool.” He had to admit that sounded interesting. “I’ve heard of people finding Civil War artifacts all over this part of Tennessee, but I’ve never found any myself.”
“Then come on. It’s not like we’d make it back in time for school, anyhow.”
He agreed with some trepidation, but Ty was right. They wouldn’t make it back for school, and this was the last time he was doing this, anyway. Might as well see if he could find something interesting, since staking out Johnson’s place had been a bust. He was still disappointed about that. He’d wanted to make Shane proud.
The hike was longer than he’d
expected, but since it was in the general direction of town instead of away from it, the walk home from the distillery wouldn’t take as long. Just when he was about to accuse Ty of making it up, the place came into view.
The distillery was sitting in a copse of trees and nearly overgrown with weeds. Drew wasn’t sure how the contraption worked, exactly, except that there were a bunch of barrel things, trays where the liquid must’ve run, and a spout where the finished product finally emerged to be bottled.
“Awesome,” he said, checking out the setup. It was like stepping into another world. “I can’t imagine living up here, working day after day making moonshine for the money to survive. I’ve read that it was a whole subculture that was accepted among hill people.”
“It still is, in some places. I saw a special about it on cable. The groups are so tight-knit and dangerous, even the FBI and DEA can’t get in to close ’em down.”
“I imagine today it’s a lot higher-tech than this.”
“For sure.”
They kicked around some, poking about the remains. There wasn’t much there in the way of souvenirs, so they eventually moved on, ambling in the direction of the cabin Ty mentioned. They both kept an eye open for arrowheads, which were abundant if you had a sharp eye and knew what to look for. Drew didn’t have a ton of practice, though, and didn’t find anything. But neither did Ty.
Both of them forgot all about exploring when they topped the last hill and found the cabin. Because it wasn’t empty—three cars were parked haphazardly around it. There didn’t appear to be anyone outside, which meant they were inside.
“Stay down,” Ty said, pulling him behind the trees.
“Isn’t that your dad’s SUV?” He eyed the black Escalade, a terrible urge to get the hell out of there kick-starting his nerves.
“Yeah. And that’s Johnson’s truck.” Ty pointed to an old red Chevy. “I don’t know who the third one belongs to.”
“Me, either. Ty, let’s go. Whatever they’re doing, we don’t need to know.” So much for being a hero.
“Screw that! This is my chance to get in on whatever game my old man has going. You don’t have to worry about where your next dime is comin’ from, but the rest of us have to survive.” The boy practically sneered the last sentence. “Leave if you want, pussy.”
Drew hesitated. He really, really wanted to bolt. But he couldn’t, in good conscience, leave without knowing Ty was safe. Even if the guy was a dick. “I’ll go with you to look, but then we’re ghosting out of here. All right? And when you confront your dad, I was never here.”
The other boy thought about it. “Deal.”
There are times in a man’s life, he’d heard, when he should listen very closely to the little voice in his head screaming You’re about to do something really freaking stupid! In some form or another, Shane had been attempting to drill that message into his thick skull for weeks. But sometimes a man has to make that final, awful error before the message truly hits home for good.
As they crept forward, and Drew heard the vicious argument taking place inside, he had a feeling that this was that final error.
Ty crouched behind the Escalade and motioned Drew forward. Gritting his teeth, Drew dashed from his tree to his friend hunkering low. Ty pointed to the side of the cabin to a window, indicating that was their destination.
“No, they’ll spot us! This is close enough.”
“We need to hear what’s going on and see who the third person is.”
“You need to, not me.”
The boy went, anyway, and Drew silently cursed. The shithead was going to get them killed. But if he could bring something to Shane after all . . .
He got moving and squatted under the window next to Ty. The voices could be heard pretty clearly from here, and there wasn’t a lot of doubt what the ruckus was about.
“I’ll tell you both the same thing Holstead told you,” a man shouted. “That shit is totally unstable. We can’t successfully market a product and keep it under the radar when it starts killing off our customers right and left! We have to perfect the formula if we have a prayer of establishing a business long term.”
“That’s not Johnson,” Drew whispered.
“Not my dad, either.”
So it was the third, unknown man.
Another man countered angrily, “Fuck the long term! We’re making boatloads of money now. So what if a few spoiled, rich athletes are dumb enough to take the stuff and drop dead? They deserve exactly what they get.” That wasn’t Johnson, so it must be Carl Eastlake.
And his voice sounded too damned familiar. Then what Carl said hit Drew, and he felt lightheaded. An awful truth was taking shape in his mind, but he had to know for sure.
As the two men continued to verbally duke it out, Drew took a chance. He raised his head to peer over the ledge and through the window. Beside him, Ty did the same.
Johnson was standing off to the side, merely watching the heated debate. However, it was the sight of Carl Eastlake that rooted Drew to the ground in spellbound horror.
Oh, my God. God, no. This man, Ty’s dad—Carl was the one who . . .
Just then, Carl became tired of arguing. Suddenly, he pulled a huge gun from the waistband of his jeans and pointed it at the third man’s forehead. “I guess you didn’t learn your lesson from Holstead when he decided to be the squeaky wheel. This conversation is over.”
One pop, the gun jerking in Carl’s hand, and a red spot bloomed right between the man’s eyes. Brains and blood splattered all over the table behind the victim, and Johnson simply moved out of the way as their former partner slumped to the floor.
“Shit, shit!” Drew staggered backward, unable to tear his horrified gaze away.
“Fuck!” Ty shouted, standing up.
Which immediately gained Carl’s attention, his murderous gaze fixing on the two boys at the window. “Ty!” he shouted. “Get your scrawny ass in here, boy.”
Ty lit out in the direction of the woods, not even stopping to see if Drew was behind him. Drew was hot on his heels, running faster than he ever had in his life. He was convinced he’d feel a bullet tear through his body any second, ending his life as fast as that of the man in the cabin. Either that, or his heart would explode from pure terror and he’d drop like a stone. As dead as his father.
His dad, whom Carl had killed with his drugs and pretty promises to an aging NFL star. Of playing stronger. Regaining his edge over guys who were younger and faster.
They ran through the woods, taking the most direct route all the way to town. Drew wasn’t sure how long they’d been running, but his sides were heaving and his lungs burning as if he’d swallowed hot coals by the time they stopped in the parking lot behind Hardee’s.
“He’s gonna kill me,” Drew panted between breaths, bracing his shaking hands on his knees.
“He won’t.” Ty was struggling for breath, too. “I won’t tell him who you are. I swear.”
“But he recognized me.”
“What do you mean? From where?”
“My dad’s house. He fucking sold my dad drugs.”
“Shit! Okay, look, you didn’t rat him out for that. I’ll convince him you won’t tell about this.”
“I’m a goddamn murder witness!”
“Fuck, man, let me think,” Ty said between gritted teeth, running his hands through his hair. “Okay, here’s the deal. You can’t tell, because you knew your dad was doing drugs and didn’t do anything about it—you’re, like, an accessory.”
Drew flinched from the pain. “It is just as much my fault. I suspected what was going on, but I never told anyone, not even Shane.”
Ty took a few more breaths. “I’ll explain it to the old man, and he’ll let it slide.”
“OK.” Drew wasn’t so sure. That didn’t sound right. But his mind was in complete chaos and he couldn’t think right now. Grief, ragged and raw, was threatening to rise and suffocate him. Swallow him whole. “I gotta go home.”
“I’ll
call you later. Have your cell handy.”
“Sure.”
He turned and left. Walked forever on shaking legs, the image of his dad, dead on the floor of his office, meshing with the memory of Carl shooting that man between the eyes. So much death and destruction.
For money. For ego.
Drew could’ve talked to his dad. Could’ve helped him. Should have.
Didn’t.
Those agonizing thoughts chased around and around in his tormented brain. Seizing him with an iron grip until he couldn’t think anymore.
He could never say a word. Never. He could not face what he’d done.
He’d let his own father die.
• • •
Shane paced until he couldn’t anymore. Then he settled on the sofa and flipped channels until the front door opened.
Daisy walked in, looking around. “He’s still not home?”
“No. I’ve called his cell a dozen times, but he must have it turned off.”
She came to sit by him, wrapping her arms around him. “He’ll be home soon. In the meantime, can I get you a beer?”
He thought about it. “Just one. I want to be lucid when he gets home. After he and I talk, we’ll revisit that idea.”
Melting into her, he kissed her long and passionately, giving in to his need to touch her. Hold her close. She healed him by just being near, and he couldn’t get enough. Slipping a hand behind her head, he grasped the tie of her conservative ponytail and worked it off, then raked the strands free. He loved it down.
“There. Much better.”
She smiled. “Let me get that beer, then I’ll change and start dinner. Anything you’re craving?”
“Besides you? Let me think . . . Nope.”
“Charmer.”
“Does that mean I’ll get lucky, then?”
She winked. “Maybe.”
He watched her go, mood lifted some. He liked having her here, liked that she’d moved in some of her things even though they were still living separately, for Drew’s sake. Drew was more receptive, too, ever since the cookout at Tommy and Shea’s place. If they could just get the boy on the right path, things would be looking up for them as a family.
