by James Hunt
Pieces Of Our Past
James Hunt
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
25. One Week Later
About the Author
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1
The bus was crowded this morning, filled with people heading to work. The steel box stuffed with warm bodies held a mixture of different smells—warm coffee, cologne, deodorant, eggs and bacon from a sandwich somebody was shoveling into their mouth. Most everybody was on their phones, a few were chatting up the person next to them, but not everyone was thrilled about the early-morning conversation. But while everyone else might have been starting their day, Nate Walker’s was coming to its end.
Nate sat in the window seat, eyes closed, arms folded across his stomach, leaning against the window that vibrated as the bus churned down the road. He remained in a semi-light sleep, his body conditioned to wake up when he neared his stop. And today was no different.
The bus brakes squeaked as it slowed, and Nathaniel jolted awake. His knees popped as he stood from his seat, which was claimed the moment he was up. He squeezed between the other riders on his way toward the exit, hurrying to escape the claustrophobic space.
Free from the crowd, Nate breathed fresh air as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. The bus jerked forward, puffing exhaust as Nate pocketed his hands and headed home.
The morning weather was nice, cool enough for him to keep his work jacket on. The pavement was slick from an early morning rain, his boots splashing in a few of the puddles.
Nate kept his head down on his walk from the bus stop back to his apartment complex. It was easier to avoid trouble when you didn’t try staring it dead in the eye, but sometimes, even if you didn’t want it, trouble found you.
Another pedestrian smacked into Nate’s shoulder, heading in the opposite direction. “Hey, watch it, asshole!” the man barked back and stopped. He had another guy with him, and Nate recognized the tone. He was looking for a confrontation, but Nate didn’t engage.
The man continued to shout a few more obscenities before he finally gave up. The encounter was typical for the neighborhood. Nate didn’t live in the best part of town, but that was nothing new.
The areas Nate had called home growing up—he used the term “home” loosely—were always crime-ridden, dilapidated, and dangerous. He had been born into a place similar to this one, and no matter how hard he tried to claw out, he couldn’t escape his circumstance.
Nate glanced at the duffle bag that held his security guard uniform from the warehouse where he worked the nightshift. He no longer wore it on the ride home. It attracted too much attention—attention he didn’t need.
One morning, he was asleep on the bus when an argument broke out. A disagreement between two riders had escalated to the point of shoving and pushing. And since Nate was the only person on the bus with any symbol of authority, they all looked to him to stop it. But when he remained in his seat, a woman nearby leaned forward, keeping her voice low.
“Aren’t you going to do anything?” she asked.
“Are you?” he replied.
Eventually, cooler heads prevailed and the argument ended, but Nate felt the crowd on the bus glaring at him the rest of the ride home. Even though no one else had done a thing, they all resented him for not speaking up. It was bullshit.
Nate wasn’t a big guy. He was only five foot six and weighed a buck forty sopping wet. He wasn’t built for fighting; he was built for hiding.
If Nate wanted to put himself in harm’s way, he would’ve become a cop, soldier, firefighter, or somebody whose job didn’t involve sitting behind a desk and watching security monitors. He had enough to worry about in his life, and he didn’t need any more trouble piled onto his plate. It was full.
Nate fished out his keys once he reached the shadow stretching across the sidewalk from his apartment building. A fence wrapped around the entire structure, keeping safe what little property those who lived inside had in their possession. But sometimes, life was more dangerous even on the inside of the gate’s perimeter.
The city of Seattle seemed to be two different people these days. Of course, there had always been the haves and the have nots, but the inequity was growing wider, and Nate was one of many holding the short end of the stick.
It was hard to picture this part of the city ever being nice, but Nate suspected it must have been beautiful at one point when it was new. Most things that were new were nice, but that wasn’t always the case.
Nate paused before he entered the building and looked back at the fenced-in courtyard. There might have been grass at one point, but now it was nothing but dirt and trash. The concrete was cracked, stained with garbage and dirt, and whatever else had been flung to the ground over the past forty years.
The building was drafty inside, and Nate headed toward the stairwell. Elevators hadn’t worked since he had moved in five years ago, and after pestering management to get it fixed for the first three years, he finally gave up.
Out of breath by the time he reached the sixth floor, Nate listened to the television sets and conversations through the paper-thin walls of the other apartments.
Most of the people in the building kept to themselves. No one was here because they wanted to be, but everyone shared a sense of decency to one another simply to make their stay here more bearable.
Nate was in desperate need of a shower and a warm dinner, he hoped there were some leftovers from yesterday. He was so hungry, Nate didn’t even notice that the apartment door was already unlocked when he stepped inside.
The apartment was tiled throughout, and while it was colder in the winter, it was nice and cool in the summer. The furnishing was minimalistic. A small card table provided the setting where breakfast, lunch, and dinner were consumed. One small loveseat was positioned in front of a boxy television, sitting on what should have been a nightstand.
Nate removed his jacket and hung it on the rack of hooks next to the door. He kicked off his boots without bending over to untie the laces and sighed with relief when his feet touched the cool tile. He stood there for a moment, enjoying the chill under his feet, and then glanced to his left at the card table where a chessboard was set up.
The pieces were arranged in a manner that suggested a game had been going on for some time. Nate studied it for a moment and realized his son had already made the next move. He sat down on the side of the white pieces and rubbed his jaw, studying the board.
Nate’s son, Tim, had a knack for chess. The boy had a knack for everything, really. Nate didn’t know where Tim had inherited his intellect, but it certainly wasn’t from him, and it certainly wasn’t from his late mother
. His parents weren’t stupid by any means, but the boy had a brain like a computer. At least that was what his teachers told him.
Nate hadn’t been able to beat his son in chess since the kid was six. And now, at age nine, Tim was better than most professional players five times his age.
After studying the board for about five minutes, Nate realized he was screwed. He knocked over his king and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to understand where he had gone wrong. He suddenly realized where he had made his mistake. He had fallen for a trapped rook, and that had exposed his king. He could have stayed alive for a few moves, but he was pinned down. He would simply be delaying the inevitable.
Nate laughed and then smiled as he stood and headed for the bedroom.
The apartment was a one-bedroom, one-bath, which wasn’t ideal for two people. But they managed to fit two mattresses in the bedroom, and for now, it was enough space. However, Nate knew that as his son became a teenager, the boy would need more. Right now, Tim still thought it was cool to bunk with his dad. But there would come a time when his son would want to stretch his legs a little bit. And Nate wouldn’t mind having a little more privacy of his own.
Nate hoped everything he had risked for his son would be worth it. He wanted his boy to have a better life than he did growing up. He wanted to provide Tim all the opportunities he never had. Every sacrifice, every move he made, was for his son.
Nate peeled off his clothes on his way to the shower, dropping his duffle bag at the foot of his unmade mattress, leaving behind a trail of stinky clothing. He would need to do laundry today, and he made a mental note to put in a load before he ate dinner. He imagined it was difficult for most people to live the way he did, backward from everyone else. Working at night, sleeping during the day, dinner at breakfast time and breakfast at dinner time. But he had been living backward his entire life.
Once the water was steaming and a thick fog filled the bathroom, Nate stepped into the shower and groaned with relief as the hot water melted away the grime of his workday. He was lathered up with soap when the first phone call rang from the bedroom.
At first, Nate didn’t think anything of it, probably some telemarketer trying to sell him something he didn’t need. But then the phone rang again, and again, and again, and Nate’s relaxing shower turned into frustration from the incessant calls. He shut off the water and wrapped a towel around his body, still dripping wet.
Nate snatched his phone up from the bed and was so frustrated that he didn’t even look at the screen to see who was calling. “What?” he barked into the phone, irritated.
“Mr. Walker?” A female voice asked.
“Yeah? Who is this?”
“This is Vice-Principal Teller,” she answered.
Nate frowned. He had only gotten a call from his son’s school once over the past five years. And that call had been to tell him that his son was practically a genius and needed to be put into a more accelerated program in order for him to continue growing his mental gifts.
“Yeah?” Nate’s bluster had disappeared, replaced now with a growing sense of dread.
“We noticed that Tim wasn’t in class this morning,” Teller said. “I wanted to call to check with you to make sure everything was okay.”
The dread in the center of Nate’s stomach spread through his chest. He glanced around the apartment as if he could find his son standing somewhere in their cramped space. He stared down at the puddles he had created around his feet on the tile, and he was suddenly shivering with cold. Thousands of questions raced through his mind, and his panic was overpowering his ability to think.
“Mr. Walker?” Teller asked. “Is everything all right?”
Nate cleared his throat. “Yes. I just… Tim wasn’t feeling well this morning. I’m sorry. He won’t be into school today.”
“Oh,” Teller said, slightly relieved. “Well, I hope he feels better. Take care.”
“Yeah.” Nate ended the call and dropped the phone onto the bed. He stood there a long time, thinking about what had brought him here, thinking about the road that seemed predetermined for his life. This wasn’t where he had hoped to end up. But his mistakes seemed to have finally caught up with him, but he never intended for those mistakes to haunt his son.
But life didn’t care for what Nate Walker wanted. Life had never cared at all.
2
The alarm had gone off twenty minutes ago, but Kerry Martin remained in bed, the covers off her, listening to her husband finish getting ready for work. He stepped out of the closet, dressed and ready to go, and she smiled at him.
“Morning,” Kerry said.
“Morning,” Brian replied, tucking his blue polo into his black pants. “You’re good to take the kids to school?”
Kerry finally sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Yes, I’m more than capable of taking our children to school.”
Brian cocked his head to the side. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” He walked over to her and bent down to kiss her lips. “I know you’re more than capable of doing everything without my help. I’m basically obsolete now.”
“Basically,” Kerry said.
Brian sat on the edge of the bed next to Kerry, holding her hand and gently rubbing her palm. “Things are going to get better. It just takes time.”
Kerry rested her head on Brian’s shoulder. “I know.”
Time was the one thing she had too much on her hands. She couldn’t believe how often she had found herself contemplating her decision to step away from the badge and her life as a detective. Technically she was simply on a sabbatical. She hadn’t made a decision on whether or not she was quitting permanently. But she knew she would have Brian’s support either way.
“Go,” Kerry said, lifting her head from his shoulder. “I don’t want you to be late.”
“You know I could just call in sick,” Brian said. “We could stay in this bed all day if you want.”
Brian kissed her neck, sending a series of tingling sensations down her left side. She smiled and laughed as she gently pulled away.
“No?” Brian asked. “Final offer.”
“Go to work!” Kerry pushed him off the bed.
Brian reluctantly stood. “All right. But don’t think I’ll throw around that offer all the time.”
Kerry laughed as Brian left the room, and as she listened to his car leave the garage, her smile faded into the silence of the house.
Brian didn’t know the true reason for Kerry’s leave of absence from the department. She had told him it was because she felt burned out, but that was only half the truth. She had compromised herself, and she was trying to come to terms with what she had done. She knew talking to him might ease the burden she’d been carrying around, but that would also incriminate him as well.
Kerry walked to the dresser mirror and examined her reflection. The auburn hair, blue eyes, freckled cheeks, it was all still her, but she didn’t recognize herself anymore. She opened the top dresser drawer where she used to stash her badge, but now there was nothing but underwear.
As far back as she could remember, Kerry’s job as a police officer was her sole identity. And when she was finally promoted to a detective, she thought it was a dream come true. Years of hard work and dedication had finally paid off.
But all of those years of service had come to a head on her last case. She had crossed a line she had sworn she would never step over. And now she was lost and floundering, unsure of what to do next.
“Breakfast,” Kerry said, whispering to herself. “Breakfast comes next.”
That was the mantra she had repeated to herself over the past few weeks. Just taking the day one step at a time. She tried not to focus too much on what was down the road and more on what was directly in front of her. And right now, what was in front of her was getting her kids ready for the day.
With no structure from work, Kerry had thrown herself into the kids’ schedule, which provided at least a morning distraction from her
personal doubts.
Kerry dressed and then grabbed her .38 special from the gun safe. She no longer had her service-issued Glock, but she always kept the revolver on her ankle, a habit she couldn’t break. She roused the children from their beds and went downstairs to begin making breakfast. She heard them shuffling around, brushing their teeth, taking a shower, and getting dressed. Once breakfast was devoured, Kerry packed up their lunches, and everyone piled into the car.
The ride to school was filled with conversations about upcoming events. Her daughter, Daisy, had a soccer game on Saturday, and her son, Jake, would be competing in a spelling bee Thursday night. He was currently practicing some of the harder words.
“Superfluous,” Jake said. “S-U-P-E-R-F-L-U-O-U-S. Superfluous.”
Kerry smiled. “Very good, Jake. You’re going to do great at the competition.”
Jake beamed with pride. “Thanks, Mom.”
Daisy rolled her eyes in the front seat. “If he wins another one of these brainiac awards, his head might swell up to the size of the moon.”
“If my head swelled to the size of the moon, I would die,” Jake said.
Daisy rolled her eyes again. “He can’t even take a joke.”
“I can take a joke,” Jake said, defensively.
“Everybody relax,” Kerry said, stopping the fight before it had a chance to get out of hand. The last thing she wanted to do was arrive with two screaming kids in her car. She didn’t want to give the other parents anymore gossip to spread.
Kerry pulled up to the school drop-off area, and Daisy and Jake slid out of the car.