Death Weeps (Death #5)

Death Weeps (Death #5) Page 22

"Well, it's a hard thing to explain but where Caleb Hart shows up, most of these guys follow."

Mia walked in through the shattered doorframe of the police door and held her pulse up. "I'm here... what happened?" she asked, looking at the mess, taking in the three tense cops, the ginormous and pissed receptionist then her eyes settled on mine. "Is this another deal?"

I thought about it. "Yeah."

"Uh-huh, that's what I thought. I had to ditch class to be here, Jonesy pulsed and said it was an emergency."

I shot him a dark look. Should've known not to pulse the Jonester. Hell, he always alerts the damn media.

"What, man? It is an emergency! Didn't Garcia go psycho on everyone's ass?" He nodded his head as Mom began to rant about his language. "Uh-huh, looks like Caleb's gonna go free. Hey man!" Jonesy said with a fist-pump, "this is your get out of jail free card."

"Like that old Monopoly game?" Alex asked, turning bodily with the door still clamped in his hands.

Porky came forward. "Put that door down this instant, young man!" Alex was mainly a follower and looked for a place for it to go.

"Argh!" she said and waddled over to where he stood. "Just... ugh! Lean it up against the wall there," she said, pointing a stubby finger to the right of the bench that had been beside the plant.

"Okay, m'am," Alex said in a contrite voice as he walked the thing over there and leaned it up against the wall.

"Now I'm going to have to call a repair place and they're not going to want to come here and fix this on a Friday!" She swiveled pretty quickly for a hippo and waddled back to the three pulse screens to rant a pulse to the elusive Repair Team.

Riley put his hands on his hips, dismissing my group.

So much for distraction factor.

"Mr. Hart, you have heard your rights as your attorney presented them to you..."

"He's not been charged with a crime, nor is he in custody," Gramps clarified.

Riley looked at him. "Be that as it may, he needs to be verbally apprised of his rights, Mr. O'Brien."

Was there another way? What... braille?

"As long as it's a point of clarity and not issuance," Gramps said.

Riley swung his brows up like a clown (I was waiting for the big red nose to grow). "You needn't worry, Mr. O'Brien." He made serious eye contact with Gramps. "It is the position of the Kent Police Department to understand Caleb's stance with this incident."

John came forward with a smile. "Hey Caleb."

I turned, wondering about his interruption, John was a deliberate dude. I lifted my chin in acknowledgment.

"They're wanting you not to sue."

"I didn't imply that, young man," he said eying John, "not that you're part of this discussion." His eyes gave him away though. Full of worry.

"What if I do?" I asked, my eyes narrowing on him like lasers.

"Detective Garcia will lose his position in the department and there may be longer-term consequences as well."

Lewis, who had moved to stand behind him added, "They're covering their collective butts."

Alex grinned and Archer gave him a frown.

Riley scowled at them and said, "This does not involve anyone but the people that were placed at the incident."

"I was," Jade said, raising the hand that I wasn't holding.

"Me too," Brett said, stepping forward.

Howie got the troll face going but had to be part of the noose that had potential to hang me so he piped in with, "And me."

Riley returned his gaze to me.

"I want to see Garcia, it's between him and me," I said.

"You'll have a police escort. Then I want an answer," he demanded and I felt my blood begin to boil. Not so hard as it had been on simmer since the fun of the morning.

Gramps put his calloused hands on his pressed old guy pants. "Stop commanding and start going along with things, Mr. Riley."

Riley stared at Gramps and neither blinked. Finally, Riley slid his gaze from Gramps'.

"Come on, I'll take ya," Daniels the cop said.

I nodded, looking once at Jade as I walked away, our fingers slipping away from their hold reluctantly.

I walked into an office that I recognized as Garcia's. I immediately noticed how the thing had been stripped bare. Gale's presence had been sanitized from the room down to the minutest detail. No plant, no photo, no single memento that would have signaled her presence remained. When my eyes went to the desk where Garcia sat, his head was in his hands.

"Garcia," I said.

"Go, Caleb," he said, "just go."

I stood there for a minute then looked at Henry. "Can ya give us a minute?"

He looked at Garcia then nodded. "I'll be right outside this door."

I nodded.

I waited until he was outside, the door open a crack.

"What's going on?"

The silence rolled out. Finally, his head rose, chin first, the eyes swollen and red and I knew he'd shed some tears.

"I loved her, you know."

What?

He stared at me and I made a stab in the dark, "Who... Gale?"

"Yeah, Bobbi."

WTF, so? He beat on me because of Gale? He saw my confusion and pondered how to elaborate. He stood, walking over to the window, the dirty glass looking out over the parking lot. The sardines in neat rows. He didn't turn, his back to me.

Maybe that was easier.

He stood for such a long time I didn't know if he would ever speak. When he did he startled me and I jumped. "First, it was Smith." He leaned his head against the wood molding that lined the edges of the window. "I thought we had something special, then she broke it off, turning to that psycho Null."

"She didn't know he was a murderer, Garcia. She's AFTD, not Empath."

"True," he said, suddenly spinning around to face me and I fought to not back up, my mind conjuring up the image of that baton.

He must have seen my tight expression because he sighed and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dark blue uniform pants. "I didn't mean to hurt you..." he smacked his hand into his open palm.

"And Gale? What were ya doin' there?"

He studied me.

"I don't know," he whispered. He straightened, then said, "I want to show you something."

Well hell, that came out of nowhere.

"Come here," he said, carefully rolling up his sleeve.

I approached him warily. But when I saw what was revealed on his forearm, it made every ounce of caution flee.

"You know I wouldn't strike a woman."

Before today, I would've staked my life on it. His behavior had been so erratic. It hadn't made sense.

But this might explain it all.

There was a star-shaped welt on his forearm, angry and swollen.

I knew that mark.

Our eyes met and locked. "I think they're using me," he said quietly, scared I wouldn't believe him.

We didn't need to say who.

I jerked out my pulse and thumbed the pad.

Music, vintage mix I thought into it.

Immediately music from the turn-of-the-century filled the small office and caused Henry to poke his head in the door.

"Everything okay?" His eyes swept the office and I replied, "Yeah, it's cool."

We talked for ten minutes about what we thought happened, the music effectively muffling our words. Afterward, I ended the discussion with, "So, whatever underlying emotional crap that's floating around... gets magnified?"

"Yes."

"I'll ask my dad but I think it's some kind of enhancer."

"No... don't ask him. It may put your folks in danger."

I thought about what I could do. I knew what this was about. The Graysheets were causing a distraction here locally and making Garcia the scapegoat.

Why?

"Listen, I know I'm just a kid to you..." I began.

He held up his palm. "No, not so much anymore."

He smiled and I saw the old Garcia, the measured and cool-as-a-cucumber Garcia, sneak out in that look.

"I have a plan."

"I don't know, sometimes your plans are a little extreme."

I smiled, he didn't know the half of it. "Yeah, but I think we can make this work if we do it together."

I told him what to do and he agreed.

"What about your job?"

He shrugged. "You decide how to handle things." His back was up against the wall. He'd just placed his trust in a guy that wouldn't turn seventeen for almost a month.

Of course, I wasn't your typical dude.

I already knew what to do, knowing that the Graysheets were on the move just solidified my decisions.

I wasn't gonna lie though, I was overwhelmed. The probation was not expired, I was living with Gramps, Garcia was a pawn on the chessboard for the Graysheets, Gale and Clyde faced prejudice at every turn and Brett was a complication that got bigger every day.

Hell it loomed.

Then there was Howie.

Some of what I was thinking must have been on my face because Garcia reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "I'm sorry." His eyes searched my face. "Tell Bobbi I'm sorry too."

I shook my head. "Nah, you'll see her later, remember?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Right."

Yeah, there'd be a surprise guest if I had anything to do with it.

"You ready?" Henry asked, his hand on the doorknob, cranking it open. He wasn't really asking, it was just time to go, his eyes flicking to Garcia then back to me.

"Yeah, I am."

I walked away without looking back.

When I entered the lobby of the police station a swarm of guys in coveralls were there, fixing the door frame. A cleaning guy was getting rid of the remnants of the potted plant. It had looked like ass anyway, its absence was an improvement.

My group stood at one end of the station while Porky continued to rant through pulse, her thumbs working at the speed of light, a blur of thumbs stabbing on oversized pulse pads.

Damn, she got shit done.

Riley stood awkwardly but separate from the Parents and Gramps.

When I walked out there beside Henry, Riley all but ran to me.

"Well?" he asked tersely.

I took a deep breath, briefly glancing at Mom, Dad and Gramps.

"I don't want to press charges."

"What?" Mom yelled and Dad frowned. Gramps searched my face, seeing things most wouldn't.

"Are you sure that's what you want, Caleb?" His eyes bored into mine, seeking answers to questions he couldn't ask in this company.

"Let him make his own decisions," Riley said, barely able to contain his glee. He shoved a pulse consent underneath my nose and said, "Thumb your agreement here." He indicated where and I pushed my thumb into the perfect position.

Gramps gave me a long look, then when his thumb was hovering over the part that said, Guardian Consent, Mom said, "Pops, no. He can't be allowed in a position of authority. This could happen to another teenager, person..."

Gramps met her eyes. "Have a little faith in your boy, Peanut."

She tried one last time, "Maybe he was coerced?" her eyes pleaded.

Dad shook his head. "I'm with Mac for once, hun."

Gramps grunted at that and Dad smiled.

"It's time to trust Caleb's reasoning, his logic. Technically, he's already an adult."

Mom slumped her shoulders in defeat.

Gramps pressed his thumb, the pulse glowed a bright green and the color died away to be replaced with the dull black of the pad again.

Riley snatched the pulse consent against his chest.

Like we'd leap at him and gang-beat him for it. Jerk.

The cops looked at me. They weren't sure why I hadn't sued the department, gotten Garcia's ass fired.

It was so anti-American not to sue. I got it. But I had bigger fish to fry.

I was gonna find Parker. I thought I had a way to do it.

I walked out of the station with my friends following. I put up a finger to Gramps and was surrounded by them in a second.

It felt like a football huddle.

I met everyone's eyes one at a time. Finally, I told them the loose plan. I pegged Tiff with a stare. "I'm going to need your help to get Parker to come."

"Okey-dokey. We'll bring the AFTD shit tonight!" snap-crackle-pop with the gum.

Right.

Jonesy said, "When?"

I told him and we broke apart. I looked at everyone. "This could get real messy. If ya don't want to..." I held up my palms and they all nodded.

"Is it gonna be like the dome-world?" Randi asked, even though she'd been the conjurer of that whole thing.