by M. K. Coker
“Very well. I’ll talk to Sean, threaten him with more detention if I hear of more incidents, but I suggest you line up the more practical solution. And if that’s not going to work, as it is a long way to come just to ferry her over to your place, I may be able to lean on a boy or two who might want to play the hero and walk her home. It’ll make her safer and make them feel like they’ve done something important. Two birds, one stone.”
Karen felt her face heat. Two reasonable, even obvious, solutions. “I should’ve figured it out myself. I’m not doing very well on the in loco parentis thing.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. You hit the trifecta.” One finger went up. “You’re here.” The second finger. “You’re concerned.” The third finger with a triumphant whirl. “And you didn’t threaten to have me fired.”
They shared a wry smile. The public was a fickle boss. Karen walked out of the office, nearly running into a worried-looking parent with a sullen kid in tow. Karen didn’t want any part of that. She waded out into the hallway and got carried away with the after-school tide outside.
She’d walked over from the courthouse and headed back that way, only to see a familiar head—or bonnet. “Mary Hannah!”
The bonnet stopped like a stone in the midst of the stream of kids. Almost as if bracing herself, her young cousin took a moment then turned. Then she let out a big breath as Karen came up to her.
“I’ll walk you to the courthouse, at least,” Karen said easily. “Should be home free from there.”
Mary Hannah’s gaze went to the other side of the street, where a reed-thin boy with a lean face covered with pockmarks mirrored their route. Like a young wolf kicked out of his pack, slinking around on the edges of a new one, he was looking for an opening, a quick kill—someone he could dominate... or someone who’d accept him.
When Karen shot him a hard look, Sean hunched into his too-small windbreaker, flipped up his hood like a gangsta wannabe, and slouched away down an alleyway on huge feet that made her think he still had a lot of growing to do—if he was fed. She was still the alpha. Give him a few years and an attitude, and that would change. Fortunately, a gun and a badge made up for many deficiencies. But maybe he’d get his act together and kick ass in the game of life. Military, perhaps. No better place for an attitude adjustment—and you were part of the pack as long as you didn’t get yourself thrown out.
“Trailer trash, trailer trash!” a voice jeered from around the corner, causing Karen to jerk her head back around. Mary Hannah slowed, instinctively moving closer to Karen. Feeling the distinct need to pound on someone since her prey had slunk off, Karen rounded the corner, fully expecting to find Zoe Harkness at the center of the taunt.
Instead, she found Zoe’s only friend—baseball boy, fishing boy, and the key, perhaps, to the puzzle of Mountain Man.
Bobby.
Unlike Sean, Bobby wore well-fitting clothes and was well-groomed. She saw nothing to indicate that he was neglected. But he was no longer the carefree Tom-Sawyerish boy she’d seen fishing from Connor Creek. His Little League ball cap lay on the ground as if flicked there, and his heavy backpack, no doubt originally slung on one shoulder, had fallen to the crook of his arm, hampering him as he raised his fists.
“Nah, he ain’t even got a trailer no more,” a tow-headed teen with a cowlick said, giving Bobby a push. “He’s livin’ in the woods, like a wild thing. Raised by wolves.”
One of them gave a howl. The other two joined in, though one’s voice broke, and the others laughed, doubling over, almost choking. Bobby looked uncertain whether to flee, fight—or join them. She remembered from when she’d first met him at a Little League game, that he had a knack of pulling in others when given a chance.
Karen decided for him. “Very funny.” She reached down to pick up the cap. “Yours... Bobby?”
His startled gaze went from the baseball hat... to hers with its sheriff’s insignia. She didn’t expect him to be overjoyed. No young man wanted a woman coming to his rescue, but she didn’t expect what she saw: overwhelming fear. He just nodded. She put it back on his head and put a friendly hand on his arm, sliding up the backpack onto his shoulder and keeping a grip there so he wouldn’t bolt. “Did you ever get out on the diamond, slugger?”
He didn’t answer.
“Slug,” one of the wolves said, jabbing his mate. “Don’t they live in the woods? All slimy and—”
“Don’t you three have a pack meeting or something to go to?” she asked the wolves pointedly. “Because if not, I have a nice, comfortable den for you, complete with three meals a day, a bunk, and... no? Well, darn. I was looking for some fresh meat. Now, Bobby... what’s your last name?”
He pressed his mouth into a line.
One of the quickly departing wolves turned. “Bobble-head? Got a girly name.” In a singsong voice, he dragged it out even as Bobby tried to pull away. “Jaaaaansen.”
CHAPTER 35
Her buffalo-check flannel shirt billowing out like a witch’s cape behind her, Lori Jansen flew into the office and straight for the boy sitting in Walrus’s chair, scuffing his Nikes on the marble floor.
Karen had told Walrus to sit on the boy while she and Marek had discussed the new development—and a possible new theory. Then she’d sent her detective to retrieve Lori. Karen wasn’t looking forward to working the scenario she and Marek had outlined between them, but it made sense. The instant she’d heard the name Jansen, a lot had become clear about Lori’s reluctance to leave the park, to file charges, or to draw any attention to herself.
Marek trailed in after Lori, looking tired and sad. Anytime you involved a minor in an investigation, the potential for hurt was great. Emotions ran high. Case in point: Lori Jansen.
Gone was the submissive, washed-out woman. Her cheeks were dotted red. “You had no right to drag my son here like a prisoner.”
Well, that took care of any lingering question mark as to the relationship between the two Jansens. Not that Karen had harbored any real doubt. “I didn’t drag him, Lori. I asked him to come with me and answer some questions. He did.” Reluctantly, without a word, but he’d done so. He was on that teeter-totter between childhood and teen that still weighed toward the child.
“Right. The law asks. The law takes. Screw the law.”
Lori’s over-the-top response had even her son looking at her. “Chill out, Mom. I’m okay. Mr. Russell gave me props for hitting that single in the game last week.”
Lori wrapped her arms around her son and glared at Karen. “I’m a good mother. I don’t neglect him. You can’t take him just because I lost my job.”
Karen raised an eyebrow at Marek. “Just what did you tell her?”
“That you had Bobby with you. And we had some questions about him living in the park.” He pursed his lips, more thoughtfully than otherwise, as if something had just clicked. “Until now, I hadn’t realized she’d been evicted from the trailer park. And I didn’t say anything about removing him from her custody.”
That might, effectively, be what happened, though, depending on the outcome.
Lori Jansen held his gaze then Karen’s, and her fire died. “Sorry. I just... I know it looks bad. Him living with me at Grove Park and at the Lions. But if we can’t find anything else soon, I have a distant cousin who’ll take us in until I can get back on my feet. Her son, Tom, and Bobby are buddies.”
Relaxing, Bobby nodded. “Yeah, Tom’s cool. We play Little League together. He taught me stuff, and I got to start. Coach says I’ve got a good bat.” His young face glowed, with health, with excitement, with all the right things, and if Karen had to turn off that light... well, at least there was cousin Tom and his parent—or parents.
Lori still looked wary, if less combative. “So what did you want to ask him? Bobby didn’t see anybody kill Bunting. I would’ve told you.”
Not under their scenario, she wouldn’t, though she might be telling the truth about her son’s lack of knowledge. Karen tried to sound reassuring. “Bu
t Bobby may have seen or heard something that may help us. We’ve actually been looking for him. We just didn’t know he was your son. Only that he spent a lot of time in the woods. Ask a kid, my dad always said, when you want recon.”
Lori didn’t move her hands. “You want to get my son tangled up in all this? No way.”
Karen didn’t like that Lori was stalling.
Bobby twisted out of his mother’s grasp to look up at her. “You said talking to the cops was the right thing to do, even if you lost your job. And they aren’t gonna take me away from you. They said so.”
And that made it true? Karen hoped that her sinking feeling didn’t show on her face—or that Lori noticed that Marek had all but disappeared into himself again. Sometimes the job sucked.
Finally, Lori tapped the boy’s nose. “All right, buddy. Your call. For now.” Lori’s tone, her face, said it would end in a hurry if she didn’t like where it was going.
After moving to the interview room, they finished the formalities, for both mother and son. The latter seemed to find it all fascinating, not intimidating, unlike his mother. Then they began.
Marek took the lead. “Bobby, when did you meet Mountain Man?”
They’d agreed to go after that information first, whatever came of the rest. Mountain Man had a lot to answer for, but until Larson came through with a fingerprint or DNA results, they were up a creek. Literally. Connor Creek was the dividing line between the barely haves and the have-nots.
Bobby looked puzzled, but at a nod from his mom, he answered, “After we moved back from Sioux Falls.”
“June third,” Lori put in.
“Mountain Man wasn’t there when we left last year. And the log bridge wasn’t there. But when Ted said we could come back to the trailer park, Mom said it was okay if I went into the woods by myself.”
As if she took that as another accusation of neglect, Lori said, “He’s old enough. We used to play by ourselves even younger than him. I’m not going to shut him up in the trailer all the time just because I’m at work. It’s good for a kid to get outside, get some fresh air, and exercise, right? Not sitting on his ass like... some.”
Zoe? Or her grandmother? Even the boy was feeling the undercurrents. His mother covered her face then patted her son’s shoulder. “Sorry. Venting. Go on, honey.”
“Okay, well, I didn’t see him right away. I was... well, I was pretending I was an Indian.” He flushed. “Not like playing make-believe, just trying to see if I could be real quiet. Real stealthy. So I went down the riverbank and then stopped and stood there by a tree, like they say if you’re patient, you’ll flush out the animals? And there’s this guy, doing the same thing, just watching. I don’t see him for like a long time, until he moves. He meant to move. To see if I’d see him, and I did. Just about shit my pants. Sorry, Mom. Crapped. But he was cool. He just stood there. Said people called him Mountain Man. I asked him what mountain, and he said it was far away—and very near. That was weird, but then he asked me about Ted.”
That made Karen blink. “He knew Ted?”
“Said he used to know him, like a long time ago. In the trailer park. Just like me.”
That bit of info on Mountain Man could be helpful if anyone in the trailer park went that far back, which was doubtful.
“So you became friends, then, with Mountain Man?” Marek asked.
“I guess. I mean, he’s old, but... sort of like a dad, I guess. He talked to me about stuff. Guy stuff.”
His mother stiffened. “Like what?”
Bobby shrugged, looking, for the first time, more adult than kid. “Like getting picked on for stuff you can’t change. How to keep from getting beat up, or if you can’t, how to win.”
Lori looked torn between relief—telling Karen where her mind had gone—and self-incrimination. “You’ve never said anything about that.”
“Mostly, I can get out of it.” He shot a quick glance at Karen, a pleading look that she interpreted as asking her not to spill the beans. “No biggy. I got it a lot less than Zoe.”
For all Karen knew, Bobby would’ve gotten the best of the wolves, either by laughing with them, at himself, or with a lucky hit.
Marek continued his patient, low-key questioning. “Bobby, on the night your mother was... hurt... did you see Mountain Man?”
Bobby frowned at his mother, who waved him on. “Yeah, he woke me up.”
“Where were you? All the tents were taken down.”
“In the earth berm. Mountain Man made it himself. But he gave it to us after we got kicked out from our trailer. He said he’d make another one if he needed it for the winter.”
“What did he say when he woke you up?”
“He said my mom was okay, but someone knocked her over on the trail. She was going to go talk to the police for a little while before she came back to get me. That he’d make sure we had a place to live even though you guys made everyone leave.” His lip trembled. “I hate moving.”
Mountain Man seemed to have a nice little family fantasy going. Maybe he’d decided to take a mate in the way of nature, with or without consent. Mental, perhaps? Or just evil. Like Bunting. Perhaps. They couldn’t hope to hear back from the FBI on the stained duty shirt yet. Karen was waiting on lots of DNA results she’d love to have right now. But none of it would be relevant if the scenario turned out like they’d sketched.
Marek shifted in his seat, and Karen tensed, knowing what was coming.
“Bobby, I know you like Mountain Man, but we believe that he was likely the man who hurt your mom.”
“No!” Bobby leapt to his feet. “He’d never... he wouldn’t!”
His mother, on the other hand, looked not stunned but wide-eyed, her mouth rounding in an O. She, apparently, had no problem seeing that scenario.
“Mountain Man was there. You’ve just told us that,” Marek told Bobby gently. “He got away from the deputy, from the park manager, and a camper, and he ran down the trail, straight for the earth berm... and you.”
“No. No way!” Bobby bolted from the room into the office, where Walrus corralled him with a look toward Karen.
“Just keep him occupied.”
That had, actually, been the desired result, even if it felt low. Very low. Now came the hard part. Karen closed the door and leaned back against it.
“He hasn’t learned yet,” Lori said wearily into the silence.
“Learned what?”
“Trust nobody. I didn’t want to raise him that way. But maybe my mother was right all along. She said that all the time—and she’d know. I couldn’t trust her.” Lori looked down at her casted wrist. “Mountain Man. All this time, I thought Bobby was safe with him.”
“So far as we know, he was,” Karen reminded her. “You’ve raised a good kid, there.”
Lori blinked at her, as though Karen had spoken in a foreign language. Then it hit. A real smile wreathed the plain face, and Karen finally saw a resemblance to her son. “Thanks. He’s great.”
Then her smile dimmed. “People say, ‘You should never have had him,’ like that would’ve made it all better. He made me what I am, Sheriff Mehaffey. He made me. I just want to return the favor. That’s why we went to Sioux Falls last year. I told him it was an adventure, that we’d both do better, and for a little while, we did. I found a job at the mall. Nothing much, but it was work. Then they cut hours, made weird hours, and I couldn’t get childcare. Then the car broke down. I tried job training, and it only got me more debt. They told me at the food pantry I went to—and I always ditched the box and used grocery bags so Bobby wouldn’t know it was charity—that Sioux Falls had plenty of jobs, but none of them paid enough. So there were more poor people there, not less, and they could barely keep the pantry stocked. Crazy. I did everything I could to make it there, but it was like climbing out of one of those vault toilets. Shit kept piling up on top of me.”
Karen let her talk. The more comfortable Lori was, the better.
“So we came home. Ted let me c
ome back to the trailer park without a deposit, and I started all over again. Bobby’s been a trouper. And he just sort of took off all at once, with baseball, with Mountain Man, and even at school. For the first time, he’s got something in his life that makes his eyes shine, that gives him hope for his future.”
“What’s that?” Karen asked, genuinely interested.
“That new art teacher. Ms. Solberg?” She didn’t notice Marek start. “She says he’s got real talent. He wants to work on movies. Animalations. No, wait. Animations. Like Toy Story? He loves that movie. And he does amazing stuff that he shows me on his phone. I just wish I could afford a computer for him.”
Once again, her face dimmed. “But we may lose even his phone. It all went to hell when Digges took over. And it got worse. I didn’t think it could, but it did. Ted... he was solid. He never treated us like trash. You know what Digges did? He left the eviction notice on my door. Bobby found it when he got home from school. Do you know what it does to a kid? Do you have any idea? I’ll bet you don’t. I do. It’s hell. You feel like you don’t matter. And Bobby matters. He matters. He’s not invisible, like I am. People like him. They pull for him.”
“And that’s why,” Marek said gently, “Ted left him the trailer park.”
Karen held her breath. One of the first things she’d done after getting back to the courthouse with Bobby was to ditch him on Walrus and hike up to see Judge Rudy, who’d allowed that yes, after another long look at the will, that Bobby Jansen did appear to be the legatee in question.
Dashing a hot tear away with the back of her sweatshirt-covered right hand, Lori didn’t react for a long moment. “Left Bobby what? Our trailer? Did he?” Hope dawned.
Well, that wasn’t the reaction they’d been looking for, but perhaps Lori Jansen had some as-yet-untapped talent as an actress. “Not just your trailer. The trailer park in its entirety, in trust. But you knew that, didn’t you? That’s why Bunting kept the will, why he threatened you that night, threatened Bobby, by taking his inheritance.”
