Torn Away (The Torn Series Book 1)

by Vincent Morrone

  The General paused a moment, let that sink in. “Clearly you don’t. On the other hand, if he was there looking for something you didn’t find, than you must have missed something which you’ve insisted you didn’t miss. But I think we can all assume that was just a steaming pile of bullshit.”

  The General folded his arms, took a moment to look Wilson up and down as if assessing him, before giving him a shake of his head.

  “I’ve always prided myself on being a good judge of character,” the General continued. “It’s an important quality when you have to send men into battle, to be able to look them in the eyes and see who is tough enough to face death and who’s too chicken shit and will more than likely turn tail and run. You’ve got boat loads of ego, but you’ve also got your head so far up your ass you should be able to see your tonsils.”

  Drew snorted while leaning against the wall. Wilson took a step towards him, but Sheriff Miller moved between them. Her eyes were like daggers, cutting off Wilson from attacking Drew.

  “Mr. Duncan is to be released. He is not considered a person of interest in his sister’s murder.” Sheriff nodded towards the mirror that separated the interrogation and observations rooms. “Detectives Daniel Wilson and John Harrington,” She said, using a tone that Drew imagined used to make Ollie’s soul freeze when he was young. “I’m hereby placing you and your partner on suspension. You will surrender identifications, shields and your weapons.”

  Wilson slammed a chair forward so much that it nearly knocked the table. The movement was so sudden Stephanie jumped closer to Drew who instinctively put a protective arm around her.

  The door to the interrogation room opened and Ollie and Sam entered. At the sight of them, Wilson reached down towards his gun holster, forgetting that it was empty, however the movement was observed by everyone in the room. Ollie and Sam, both of who were armed, had their hands on their own weapons, but refrained from drawing them.

  With an icy stare that would freeze hell, Sheriff Miller stood before Wilson. “I would greatly recommend you keep your mouth closed and contact your union representative. Is that understood?”

  Wilson sneered, hatred pouring out of him. He looked like he wanted to strike out physically at the sheriff, but knew he couldn’t. Not here and now, surrounded by all these people.

  When Ollie stepped towards Wilson, Drew couldn’t help but notice the geeky kid he’d once picked on was light years away. Ollie still had a good amount of nerd inside, but right now he looked like a bull ready to rampage.

  Shoving away from him, Wilson stormed out of the room, Ollie quick on his heels. Harrington followed closely behind.

  Sam stole one quick glance at Drew, his arm protectively around Stephanie before following her partner.

  Chapter 12

  Pickles vs. Potato Salad

  When Drew emerged from the police station, he took a nice, long deep breath and grinned to himself. He’d handled it. There was a part of him that wanted to beg them to get him out of that cell when they’d first locked him in. The icy chill of panic in his spine as if he’d been tossed outside on a freezing day, wet and naked, while a snowstorm raged, threatened to bury him alive.

  But he managed to push that aside, and was free.

  Waiting in that cell had been the worst of it— the helplessness, having no control over his fate. If he could, Wilson surely would have sent Drew to jail, held over for a trial that would never come or at the very least take years to materialize. And while there, he knew what could happen.

  For a few brief moments, he’d been transported to when he was seventeen, nearly eighteen. He’d made some noises about getting a different public defender, one that actually listened to him and wasn’t trying to bully him into giving a full confession for something he hadn’t done.

  Drew hadn’t seen them coming then. He fought like a madman, but there had been three of them and they were all so much bigger. All to deliver a message. If that guard hadn’t come by…

  Don’t go there. Just don’t. It’s over.

  “You didn’t do too shabbily,” the General said as he came out of the station to stand next to Drew and slap him on the back, snapping Drew out of his trance. “Glad to see you kept your head in there.”

  Drew managed a smile. “You weren’t too bad in there yourself, Grandpa.”

  The General gave him a scornful glare. “Watch it. I can still kick your ass.”

  Stephanie groaned as she joined them. “What is it with you two? What is it with men?”

  Both Drew and the General laughed.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly to help,” Drew said, turning to Stephanie. “It means a lot.”

  Leaning in, Stephanie pulled Drew into a tight embrace, one that clearly showed their relationship went beyond just lawyer and client. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to be here for your sister’s funeral. I’m so sorry for your loss, Drew.”

  All joy drained from Drew’s face as he nodded. “Thank you.”

  Stephanie hugged him again, but his posture was stiffer. She pulled back and tried to change the subject. “How are things with your other sister?”

  Drew started to just say okay, a standard answer like when people ask, ‘how are you doing today?’ It’s not that they want to hear how you stubbed your toe, ran out of coffee, were late for work when you lost your keys and got stuck behind a smelly garbage truck in rush hour. They were just being polite.

  However, this was Stephanie. If she asked, it was because she cared.

  “It’s been a rough start,” Drew said. “And this probably isn’t going to help. She’s gonna be pissed at me when I get home, but it’s really Cole I’ve got to worry about.”

  Stephanie started to rub his arm sympathetically. “I know it’s got to be rough for him. I hope I get the chance to meet him, but I’ve got to get back. Someday, I’d love to meet your family.” She leaned up, pulled him into another hug and kissed him. The kiss was quick and gentle, but on the lips and lingered just a moment.

  The General turned to Drew. “You okay from here? I’ve got to get Stephanie back to the airport.”

  Drew nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

  He watched the General walk off with Stephanie and smiled to himself. They had just reached the car when Stephanie opened the door and started to climb in, but turned to look at Drew one last time. “By the way, the flowers were beautiful. Thank you.”

  She sent him one last, radiant smile before getting into the car and letting the General drive her away to the airport.

  Grinning to himself, Drew decided it was time to find Sam. He was surprised he didn’t have to look far.

  Sam was standing just by the door to the police station, her arms folded, her eyes closed slits of anger. Drew was taken aback, but assumed she was just pissed at what happened with Wilson. He moved over to her, but saw her stiffen.

  “Hey there,” he said cautiously. “I was just about to go looking for you.”

  Sam smiled, but the smile seemed forced and even a little hostile. “Well, here I am.”

  Drew took a few steps closer to her, but sensed something was wrong. “You really saved my ass, getting that recorder out of my pocket and giving it to Ollie’s mom. If they’d have found it first, I’m sure it would have been erased.”

  Sam nodded. “Probably. Listen, I know I’m not technically on duty, but I’ve got to write up a report on everything all the same. The sheriff wants all the ‘I’s dotted and ‘T’s crossed. You can get home on your own, right? If not, I can see if Ollie can drive you.”

  Drew frowned. He’d been in that damn holding cell long enough for her to write up a dozen reports and even if she still needed to, he could wait, but Drew was getting the distinct impression Sam was trying to ditch him.

  “I can get home on my own,” he said. “I was thinking maybe I could swing by your place tonight. Take you out to dinner and thank you.”

  Sam paused as if to consider his offer. “I don’t think I can,” she said with
a shake of her head. “I’ve got plans with Nana tonight and I told you I don’t think I’m ready to get involved. Besides, I think you have enough on you plate.”

  Drew tried to formulate some response, but before the words could even form in his mind, she started to go back into the crowded police station. “Oh, and Stephanie was beautiful and seemed very nice,” she added before turning her back on him.

  Drew stood there a good ten seconds in stunned silence. “Well, damn.”

  Drew decided to walk home. For the first several blocks, he kept his eyes straight ahead and tried not to think of where he was. Instead, his mind was on Sam.

  What the hell was that? Had she decided he was more trouble than he was worth? He walked another half a block as he played the entire thing over in his head, stopped short and shook his head. “Well double damn.”

  Having figured out what exactly happened, he actually laughed out loud, causing at least one passerby to glance his way, probably wondering if he were insane.

  Drew passed several stores he remembered from when he was younger, including a small convenience place, which would sell him cigarettes back when he first started to smoke. He’d been fourteen and went in to buy a pack as a dare. The store owner didn’t even blink. He and his buddies at the time all smoked that afternoon. At first he thought it was pretty gross, but didn’t want to be the one to complain about it. By the time he was done with his first cigarette, he’d decided it wasn’t so bad.

  Since he’d bought the pack, he took them home. His father found them when he’d kicked Drew’s bookbag and they’d fallen out. He proceeded to laugh at Drew, mocking him. “So you’re a smoker now? You think that makes you a man and not a little Nancy boy?”

  Drew of course, answered him back. “I’m more of a man then you’ll even be.”

  That earned Drew a solid punch in the gut, followed by his father pulling his off duty weapon and placing it under Drew’s chin. He’d wanted Drew to beg and plead. Drew, being the stubborn SOB he was, naturally refused.

  When his father had grown weary of waiting, he kicked Drew once in the balls, tossed the rest of the pack of cigarettes at his son, and went off to get drunk. Drew went outside to wait for his sisters so they wouldn’t go inside. He’d smoked half of the remaining pack, trying to get himself to stop shaking. When they’d showed up, he’d sent them off to stay the night at Lilly’s.

  Ever since, Drew had been a smoker. He’d forgotten, or rather chosen not to think about how he’d picked up the habit, but standing in front of the store, it all came back.

  Drew continued to walk as his memory flowed back to that time, remembering the friends he’d taken that first drag with.

  Of the three buddies of his who tried their first smoke that day, Jimmy Dugan nearly puked at the first full puff, stubbed it out and swore to never smoke again. As far as Drew knew, he’d kept that promise, although Jimmy moved out of Ember Falls the following year with his parents.

  Scott Middleton, like Drew, picked up the habit. Drew knew Scott remained a smoker when they ran into each other in Iraq. Scott, having decided to believe the stories about Drew killing Molly Winters, refused to speak with him even when they ended up in the same unit. Drew stewed about it for over a week, until he decided enough was enough and vowed to have it out one way or the other with Scott the next chance he had. He knew there was a damn good chance Scott would simply chose not to believe him, but Drew was determined to have his say.

  Unfortunately, Drew never got that chance. Scott was killed that afternoon in downtown Fallujah. An IED ended both Scott and his nicotine addiction.

  Passing by the old schoolyard, Drew remembered his best friend, the final member of their group to have tried cigarettes that day.

  Everyone knew Brooke’s mother. She was considered the queen of the trailer trash, often drunk, high or both. She had a quick temper and Drew suspected a quicker hand, but Brooke never talked about his home life much.

  When Brooke smoked that day, Drew had the impression it hadn’t really been his first drag. Finishing the cigarette silently, Brooke was completely unaffected by it as far as anyone could tell.

  For the next year or so, Brooke often lit up when among friends.

  Always the consummate non-smoker, Lilly gave both Drew and Brooke a hard time about his habit. While Drew used to respond to Lilly’s lectures by lighting up, Brooke listened and quit, all for Lilly.

  Drew had been quite sure that the pair of them would be those high school sweethearts that got married, with three or four kids before they hit thirty, but they’d abruptly broken up only weeks before the dance where Molly disappeared.

  The last time Drew saw Brooke, things hadn’t gone well. Lilly refused to discuss what led to the break up, but was clearly heartbroken. She withdrew, barley eating and often found alone in some corner crying her eyes out.

  Drew, who loved Lilly like she was another sister, tracked Brooke down. He had ditched school ever since the breakup and was found shooting hoops at their old middle school yard, which wasn’t too far from where he lived. Drew didn’t go there looking for a fight, he’d meant to just yell at Brooke for hurting Lilly, but within moments of arriving, Drew actually punched Brooke in the face.

  “How can you do that to her?” Drew said, hoping Brooke would get up and fight back. “You broke her heart.”

  Brooke took his time getting up. He didn’t attack like Drew thought he would, but instead stood with his arms out, presenting himself as the perfect, easy target. “Go ahead. Hit me. It won’t change a damn thing. She broke up with me!”

  Drew hadn’t known what to make of that, but he could tell Brooke was in just as much pain as Lilly. Being an asshole at the time, Drew didn’t apologize for hitting him, he’d just walked off. Guys didn’t do heart to hearts with each other.

  The next day, Drew had gone to see Lilly. She refused to talk about the breakup, but when asked if Brooke lied, she started to shake her head, which lead to her crying in Drew’s arms.

  Funny how so many memories were tied to the first time he’d ever smoked a cigarette.

  Down the street from the school, was a deli called Maria ’s. Drew once tried to purchase cigarettes there when he was nearly fifteen, but the owner, Maria Masci chased him out and nearly smacked him in the ass for the attempt.

  Drew swore to never return, but he couldn’t stay away from her potato salad. Upon his return, Maria calmed down. He was treated to a lecture on smoking and how it was wrong and disrespectful to try and purchase cigarettes from her store. When she was done, Maria smiled and waited on him personally. And while Drew kept smoking until returning to Ember Falls, he never again tried to buy cigarettes there.

  Funny, he thought, how only now that he was old enough to legally purchase a pack of smokes, he’d just quit. While the urge still plagued him more than he liked to admit, Drew promised himself he’d never light up again.

  The sign above the store was the same, although someone replaced the window and door. Maria was well into her sixties when Drew had last been in here and Drew imagined she’d retired and the new owners simply kept the name. Maybe they kept the same potato salad recipe?

  Drew walked into the store and made his way to the counter. The lunch crowd was thinning out, but there was still a line of people waiting. The place had gotten a makeover, and there were new faces behind the counter, but the food still smelled heavenly and it still felt like the same store.

  There was a pair of large refrigerators behind the main counter that held all the cold cuts— meats in one, cheeses in the other. The counter itself held a large glass case with lasagna, meatballs, olives, pickles, and other assorted deli items. There was freshly baked bread in baskets and cookies on display.

  In the back of the store were rows of other foods, many you couldn’t get in the grocery store, some brought in from local farmers and bakers. The back of the store held freezers, containing items you could only purchase here at Maria’s, including her famous clam chowder, wh
ich Maria would make at home by the bucket load, freeze and sell in the store. It often went very quickly.

  The girl behind the counter was in her mid-twenties and looked familiar. She wore a little too much make-up for Drew’s taste, but was very attractive. She flirted in a friendly manner with each of the men who stepped up to the counter.

  When it was his turn, the girl turned to smile at him. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as she studied Drew’s face, and then widened in surprise as it finally registered who he was. Any and all joy drained from her as she crossed her arms and scowled.

  It was the scowl that made it click for Drew.

  “Hello, Sandra,” Drew said as pleasantly as possible, recognizing Molly Winter’s best friend from high school. She hadn’t liked Drew before her BFF disappeared. “How are you?”

  For a brief moment, Drew thought Sandra might actually spit on him. Her face was chiseled with contempt and disdain. She didn’t answer at first, rather concentrated all her fury into her glare.

  Her voice was cold and just loud enough to carry to the rest of the store. “What the hell are you doing back in this town, Drew Duncan?”

  Drew didn’t want to make a scene and tried not to lose his temper. “You may not have heard what happened to my sister—”

  “Of course I heard,” Sandra said, her voice rich with scorn. “We catered the damn wake at your home.”

  It would make sense that Ashley would have used Maria’s, but Drew hadn’t eaten anything at all that day.

  “I knew you came back into town for that,” Sandra continued. “I just thought you would have high-tailed it out of here after.”

  “Nope,” Drew said. “I’m staying for my sister and nephew.”

  Sandra started to point a finger at Drew, her mouth open with what Drew was sure to be a very nasty little remark, one likely to put him over the edge, when someone else stepped up to the counter.