Unintended Witness

by D. L. Wood

  “It was, actually. Took in Main Street, got a lot of good shots, and probably gained about five pounds. You?”

  Holt shook his head. “Nothing that interesting. Spent the afternoon in court on a custody hearing.”

  “So,” Reese said, directing himself to Holt, “you were saying?”

  “Oh yeah,” Holt replied, turning in his seat towards Reese. “Based on what Pax said, they are really looking at Sims. And they feel pretty good about it.”

  “What evidence do they have?”

  “He didn’t know. But he said they had something concrete.”

  “Concrete? Already? On the arson or the murder?”

  “Didn’t say.”

  “Have you briefed Sims?”

  Holt shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “We need to sit down with him, let him know they’re looking at him and find out what this solid evidence is that they have. I don’t know that we need to represent him much further than that, but at least we can gather something to give the public defender.”

  “You said you had photos?” Holt asked, casting around for a sign of them.

  “Well, the same ones everybody else has.” Reese moved to the computer and tapped a key, pulling up a slideshow. Chloe watched the two of them from the doorway to the butler pantry, wondering if she ought to give them a minute. “Donner released these to the paper. They went online this morning,” Reese explained to Holt, as he began clicking through the photos of the damaged site, lingering a bit on each one to give Holt time to take it in. “I’ll bet the investigators aren’t happy about it. I’m not even sure how he would have gotten access to the site already.”

  She felt a presence behind her and turned to see Emma and Trip standing there, sharing a bowl of dip and chips between them, watching the lawyers click through the photos. “They’re always like that,” Emma said, as Trip lifted a goo-covered nacho to his mouth and crunched. “Working, I mean. They never stop.”

  The two teens stepped around Chloe to get a better look. “Dang, that really did some damage,” Trip observed.

  “Yeah,” agreed Reese. “You can see the point of origin,” he said, indicating a spot at the center of the damage displayed in one photo, then continued advancing through the rest, all depicting various aspects of the destruction—toppled scaffolding; debris scattered over recently poured, pinkish-tinted flooring on the lower level that looked gouged; frayed and burned orange netting; and more. “It’s a mess and it lit up one heck of a fire, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. Apparently it wasn’t a very powerful bomb. Whoever did this wasn’t trying to take the whole thing down.”

  “Daaaddd!” Tyler yelled from the other room. “I’m starving! Can we go now?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Reese called back. He turned to Holt. “Let’s finish this later,” he said, slapping the laptop shut and herding them all into the kitchen.

  “Glad you had a good day,” Holt said, stepping towards the kitchen side door to exit. “You guys have a nice dinner and I’ll see you tomorrow, Reese. Trip, Jacob, Emma, Tyler,” he said, throwing a wave at them before heading out the kitchen side door to the driveway, “see you guys later.” Only Tyler returned the goodbye.

  “So, where do you want to go?” Reese asked Chloe as the door closed behind Holt. “I was thinking—”

  “Mellow Mushroom! Mellow Mushroom!” Tyler shouted in a sing-song voice from his position in front of the television, not taking his eyes off the on-screen action.

  “Tyler, I don’t think Chloe wants pizza,” Reese countered.

  “No, it’s fine,” Chloe said.

  Reese wrinkled his nose questioningly, prompting assurances from Chloe.

  “No, really. I like pizza.”

  “See, Dad? She likes pizza. She likes it.” He fired and four more zombies went down.

  “All right, all right. Emma,” he turned, “you ready to go?”

  Emma stopped, mid-chip crunch, eyeing him with disdain. She swallowed. “Yeah, sure.” She cocked her head towards Trip. “You guys wanna come?”

  “Um, no we were heading out anyway,” Trip said. “I’ve got to get home, and I think Jacob’s dad wanted him back tonight.” He set the cheese bowl on the counter. “Yo, Jacob. Time to go.”

  Jacob slapped Tyler on the back as he tossed his controller down. “Next time, little man,” he said as Tyler nodded, before firing one last time and shredding Jacob’s on-screen player.

  * * * * *

  After a long dinner over a very cheesy, gooey pizza, salads, and two pitchers of soda, Reese pushed open the door leading out of Mellow Mushroom as Tyler scrambled beneath his arm and onto the Main Street sidewalk. It was now nearly eight o’clock as the four of them walked towards the car. Tonight they had to park a few blocks away since parking on the square and Main Street was blocked off in preparation for Franklin’s annual Pumpkin Fest, taking place the next day. A dark velvet draped the sky, autumn stars peeking out bleakly like pinholes in it, a complement to the flickering street lamps spaced along the road. Empty white tents lined either side of the road, waiting to be filled in the morning with what Chloe imagined would be all sorts of fantastic merchandise and goodies. Glancing back towards the square, she could see a flurry of movement as workers bustled around setting up an extravagant display of hay bales, pumpkins, and scarecrows.

  “This festival,” Chloe asked, as Tyler dragged Emma across the next intersection headed for a toy store halfway down the next block, “it’s a big deal?”

  Reese shrugged. “They’re all a big deal. We have something like four of them a year. If you really want to see something, come back for ‘Dickens of a Christmas.’ If you’ve never seen two hundred people dressed like they belong in Victorian England dancing in the streets, you haven’t lived.”

  Chloe chuckled. “Will the kids come tomorrow?”

  Reese nodded. “They’ll want to.” He turned towards her. “Are you up for it? I need to work part of the day but I could take a couple hours off.”

  Chloe sighed. She had been hoping for more than a couple hours with Reese, but it was starting to look like a few hours at a time was the best she was going to get. “Sure. What time—”

  “Oh, shoot,” Reese growled as he pulled a fistful of dollars from his pocket. “I forgot the tip. Hold on for a second.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Chloe called after Reese as he strode swiftly back toward the restaurant. Chloe stopped, watching as Tyler stood with Emma, pointing animatedly at something in the toy store window. They’re tight, those two, Chloe thought, a memory of her and Tate telling ghost stories in the closet flashing in her mind. Distracted by the thought, Chloe barely noticed the swiftly moving figure entering from the side street between them and racing towards Tyler and Emma. Dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head, he collided hard and intentionally with Emma, ripping her purse from her shoulder and continuing down the street away from them at breakneck speed.

  “Hey!” Chloe heard Emma yell before charging headlong after the thief.

  “Emma, stop! Don’t!” Chloe shouted after her, sprinting towards where Tyler stood, confused and staring after his sister.

  By the time Chloe reached Tyler, Emma had already disappeared down the block, having taken a hard left around the corner at Five Points to follow the thief.

  “That guy!” Tyler yelled as Chloe took his hand. “That guy just hit her and took off! She went after him…”

  The rest of Tyler’s sentence was lost on Chloe as her mind frantically vacillated between what to do. She wanted to race after Emma, to help, to protect her, but Tyler was here and Reese was still inside the restaurant. She couldn’t just leave Tyler on the sidewalk.

  And then Reese stepped out the door and Chloe was hollering at him. “Reese! Reese! Take Tyler! Take him!” Reese instantly realized something was wrong and jogged towards them, picking up speed as he went. Chloe grasped Tyler’s shoulder and looked him in the eye.

  “Stay here! Wait f
or your Dad!” Chloe ordered, then took off after Emma.

  Other pedestrians, witnesses to the shouting, were now eyeing Chloe strangely as she zipped past, trying to run as best as she could in the wedges she had worn to dinner. The two-inch heels were not easy to run in, and as she took a sharp turn at an old Presbyterian church on the corner, she rolled an ankle, struggling to remain upright. The street lamps ended here, and the darkness enveloped her as she charged down the side street. Halfway down the block, she could see Emma cutting again to the left, into an alleyway running between the buildings that made up the church complex. Chloe followed her into the alley, lit only vaguely by dim rooftop lights shining down from the corners of one of the buildings. Chloe squinted as she ran, just barely making out two figures tussling about twenty yards away.

  “Emma!” Chloe shouted as she neared. The thief froze momentarily, looking up at Chloe. A ski mask covered his face. Recovering quickly, he seemed to use all his weight to shove Emma against a brick wall, while she scrabbled to take her purse back. The shove made her slip on some loose gravel scattered beside the wall and she twisted, falling awkwardly and landing with a yelp.

  Chloe was just yards from them when the assailant briefly leaned over Emma, then quickly jerked up and barreled away in the opposite direction. Skidding on the same gravel, Chloe nearly fell over Emma before coming to a final stop.

  “He stole my purse!” Emma bellowed, snapping her head in the direction her assailant had gone. “Yeah! You better run!” she yelled after him, clutching her arm.

  “What were you thinking?” Chloe scolded. “He could’ve really hurt you!” She reached down to help Emma stand up, and the teen squealed at Chloe’s touch. “He did hurt you,” Chloe said, as Emma cradled her left arm close to her chest.

  “He stole my purse. You’re saying I should’ve just let him go?”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what you should’ve done.” Chloe breathed in deeply. “How bad is it?”

  Emma looked at Chloe. “I dunno. Maybe broken. It feels weird.”

  “Come on,” Chloe said, putting her arm around Emma and marching her towards the street. “Let’s go find your dad.”

  “The idiot thinks I’m not going to report it,” she said as they moved down the alley. “Fat chance.”

  “What?” Chloe asked, confused.

  “He said to keep my mouth shut,” Emma growled. “To keep what I saw to myself. But he’s crazy if he thinks I’m not going to the cops.”

  “Emma!”

  The frantic shout came from Reese who had just turned into the alleyway entrance with Tyler in tow.

  “Great,” Emma grumbled. “He’s gonna love this.”

  SIXTEEN

  The world looked so much different from down here, flat on his back, staring up at the patch of dark sky framed by the circle of trees in the little clearing. He noticed the stars now, each one, and oddly tried to remember the last time he had noticed them like this, but couldn’t. As a boy, he had loved staring at them through his telescope, there at the beginning of life, at the start of whatever the journey held for him. He had loved imagining what lived beyond; what adventures he might have. How fitting that as his life slipped away, now that he was at the ending of all things, he was staring at the stars again. He involuntarily sniggered at the irony, or at least tried to, but the blood filling his lungs prevented it.

  An ache grew beneath him, and he thought he must have fallen on stray tree limbs, or rocks or something. Or maybe the bullet had shattered something inside. It was hard to tell. His senses were beginning to fail him. Darkness crept in on the edges of his vision as the shooter stepped closer and closer, until standing directly over him. Their eyes met, and he found no sympathy in his killer’s gaze. Just resolve.

  Dread coursed through him as the killer raised the gun once more. He averted his eyes to the stars again, hoping for comfort. But none came. Instead, panic filled his heart because deep down he knew that, whatever came next, it would not be an adventure.

  Not after all he had done.

  SEVENTEEN

  The ER waiting room of Middle-Tennessee Hospital was predictably stereotypical, with its unflattering fluorescent lights and uncomfortable plastic chairs lining the walls. An uneasy quiet hovered, as the sliding glass doors awaited the next panicked intrusion of someone clamoring for emergency treatment.

  Chloe and Reese sat side by side in two of the pale gray chairs. Beside them was Tyler, asleep and leaning on Reese, his head tucked up under Reese’s arm. Chloe checked her watch again. A nurse had taken Emma back thirty minutes earlier. Emma had not wanted anyone to accompany her. Chloe thought that was ridiculous, but didn’t say anything when Reese acquiesced without a word.

  “She doesn’t like me around,” Reese muttered, as if reading Chloe’s mind. “It’s just easier this way.”

  “You’re wrong,” Chloe contradicted confidently. “If anything she wants you around more than you are. This is just her way of sounding off about it. She told me you’re never around. That you’re always working. She wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t miss you being there.”

  Reese inhaled deeply. “I have to work. I bring it home as much as I can, so at least I’m around when they’re around. I don’t know what else I can do.”

  “I think maybe she means you’re not there even when you are there, you know? That you’re preoccupied.” She noticed his shoulders sagging more deeply at this and felt sorry for him, which, again, surprised her. She was oddly moved to throw him a bone. “For what it’s worth, I think most teenagers feel like that. You’re doing the best you can. You’re making an effort. She’s just doing what teenagers do. If you really are around, then don’t be too hard on yourself. She’ll figure it out eventually.”

  “Maybe,” he said, stroking the top of Tyler’s head. “I know it’s ridiculous to even try to apologize now, but even so, I’m sorry I was never there for you and Tate. I was an idiot. Selfish. Stupid.”

  He kept his stare on Tyler, unable, Chloe presumed, to look at her after making this admission. She rubbed her eyes, noticing for the first time how very tired she was. “It’s done. We can’t go back,” she said, and like him, let her gaze drift to Tyler. “But for what it’s worth, I’m really glad you’re getting it right the second time around.”

  “It’s worth a lot,” he said, his voice soft. She didn’t look at him, but sensed his gaze boring into her and guessed that he had finally looked her way.

  A loud squeak sounded as the waiting room’s swinging door opened and a nurse in cartoon-decorated scrubs came through, heading purposefully towards them. “Mr. McConnaughey?”

  “Yes?” he replied, starting to stand before realizing a sleeping Tyler prevented it.

  “Your daughter has a simple fracture,” she reported. “We’re going to set it shortly. We’ve got her pain under control and she’s doing fine. She should be finished within an hour or so.” When Reese nodded his understanding, she turned and walked back out.

  They sat without speaking for a moment before Chloe asked, “How long before the police get here, you think?”

  “Any minute, probably.”

  More silent moments passed.

  “Did he hate me?” Reese’s words, just whispers really, seemed to escape rather than be intentionally spoken. A heavy apprehension cloaked them.

  “Who?” Chloe asked, though she thought she knew.

  “Tate. Did he hate me?”

  Chloe inhaled, her shoulders heaving. She still found it a bit unsavory to hear Reese speak Tate’s name. “Hate’s a strong word.” She stopped there, intending to say more, but the truth was, she didn’t know what to say. Tate had loathed their father. And he hadn’t been alone.

  “I don’t blame him. Or you. It’s what I deserve.”

  “He never had a chance to know you.”

  “Which is my fault.”

  Something in Chloe’s heart twitched. For years she had imagined what it might be like to meet her father again, to
torture him with tales of their broken childhood, their pain, Tate’s dysfunction—but now, when it was hers to dole out, she found that pain was not something she wanted to inflict. She did not know Reese well yet, did not particularly like him or dislike him, and certainly felt no bond to him. But he was a person, sitting in front of her, in pain. And she had the power to ease it.

  “He looked like me,” she said, unbidden. “Same hair, same eyes. But we were really different on the inside. Liked different things—we could never agree on take-out. And he was really smart. I mean,” she hedged, “I did okay, but he was a genius. Got a 35 on the ACT.”

  “I did well on the ACT,” Reese echoed, his eyes brightening at learning of a connection, however slight, between him and his son.

  Chloe smiled faintly. “Well I didn’t even get close to that. He was an overachiever. An Einstein when it came to computers.” She sighed, remembering. “It’s what ended up getting him in trouble.”

  “What did he do with computers?”

  “Wrote programming at first. In the end he was a hacker. He wanted a shortcut to a good life, and he found one. It just wasn’t legal. Ended up getting him killed, and almost got me and Jack killed in the process.”

  Reese took that in, staring distantly through the windows, not really seeing. After several minutes, he spoke. “Your mother and I…we just…” Reese trailed off, words seeming to fail him. She understood why. There simply aren’t any words that make abandoning your children okay.

  Somewhere deep inside Chloe, knots of remembered worthlessness tightened. Reminding herself that she was not that eight-year-old little girl who had just been left by her daddy, her eyes flicked up to him.

  “I know mom was hard to live with. I know she was an alcoholic. It couldn’t have been easy. But you didn’t have to leave us. Why? Why leave us?”