Accused (Troubled Boys, Strong Men Book 1)

by Wendy Byrne

  Jillian circled the neighborhood before stopping in front of one of the larger estates. “That’s it there, behind those trees.”

  “It’s going to be hard to get pictures from here.” He put the camera to his eye and adjusted the focus. Immediately, the minutia of the scene became clear. The flowers outside the front door sprang to life in an amazing color spectacle; the large brass knocker on the front door he noted was in need of some polish. “This camera is amazing. I think I see a spider hanging by the door hinge.” He smiled and put the camera on his lap.

  “Now all we have to do is wait for something to happen.” She fidgeted for a few moments in her seat. “In case you haven’t guessed, I’m not the patient type.”

  “On the contrary, I think you’re more than patient. You put up with an unhappy marriage waiting for the right time. You’ve worked through some heavy stuff with Travis and didn’t give up on him like a lot of parents would.”

  “Like his father you mean?”

  “I’m not passing judgment, but I do think it’s pretty shitty the guy shows no interest in him.”

  “No doubt now he figures he has an excuse to ignore Travis. In the past, he said it was work that caused his distance. Now he can pin the estrangement on Travis.” She shook her head as if the idea still couldn’t settle inside her brain.

  “A lot of parents take the easy way out. Send them off to boarding school or a shrink for pills and expect everything to magically change. And if it doesn’t, they want to sue somebody.” He shook his head as all the kids he’d mentored over the last several years popped into his head. “The real test is when you stand by your kid whether they do something you like or don’t like. That doesn’t mean you make excuses for them, blame their friends, their teacher, the environment, whatever. You let them know when they’re wrong and let them face the consequences.”

  “How did you learn so much about kids?”

  Before he could respond, the front door opened. “Something’s happening.” He pointed, readied his camera and clicked off a few trial photos.

  “That’s Victoria.” Jillian held the binoculars to her face. “Damn, it looks like she’s alone, but of course dressed to kill. It never ceases to amaze me how the women who live here can’t run through the drive-through at Starbucks without full hair and makeup.” She glanced at him. “Sorry, old frustrations.”

  “Let’s follow her. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  It was about twenty minutes before Victoria parked in front of a small building. Sam jotted down the address and took a photo as Victoria pulled open the door and entered.

  “Weird.” Jillian’s fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “It looks like a run-of-the-mill office building. That kind of blows the idea of some kind of tryst, I guess. She’s probably got an appointment with her tax attorney or something.”

  Sam smiled. “Unless her tax attorney’s the mystery man in the Lexus. They might be getting it on on top of his desk as we speak.”

  “If we could only get a picture.” She grinned back at home. “Reasonable doubt.”

  When her phone rang, they both jumped. Fishing through her purse, she pulled it out and looked at the readout and showed it to him: unknown caller.

  “Put it on speaker and answer it.”

  She punched in the buttons. “Hello.”

  “Ms. Beckett, I’m not sure what you’re doing outside my office, but if you don’t leave within the next five minutes, I’m going to call the police and have you charged with stalking my client.”

  Jillian’s eyes went wide as she grimaced. She glanced at Sam, covered the phone and mouthed, ‘What do I do?’

  “It’s Tallman.” Sam felt the burn clear through to his gut at the thought they’d been discovered. Then again, only a paranoid person would be so hyper vigilant. The guy had to be up to something.

  “I’m only looking for answers, Mr. Tallman.”

  “You won’t find them with my client. Your son is the reason she is a grieving wife and mother.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure who that gentlemen is in your car, but I intend to find out.”

  Sam’s muscles tensed as he grabbed the phone and opened the car door. After laying the phone on the hood, he held his arms out wide. He zeroed his gaze onto the building, examining each of the windows for a telltale silhouette. Enough of this bullshit. “No mystery. It’s Sam Carter. Spelled just like it sounds.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. That instinct he suppressed to never back down from a fight roared between his shoulder blades. “You wanna talk, fine. Come on outside. We’ll talk.”

  He had a long fuse, but when it came to shit like intimidation he had no tolerance. He’d learned calling bullies on their bluff worked ninety percent of the time.

  “Now, why would I want to talk to either one of you? You’re the enemy.”

  “Funny, but I don’t see it that way. It seems to me if you were truly invested in helping your client, you’d want to talk to anybody who might help.”

  “That’s assuming you have information, which you don’t or you wouldn’t be hanging around here.” He drew in an exasperated breath. “Besides, your friend’s son is a murderer. Why would I trust anything either of you has to say?”

  “Innocent until proven guilty. Ever hear of the concept?”

  “You ever hear of irrefutable evidence?”

  “I guess we’ll see about that.” Sam clicked off the phone and climbed back into the car. “Might as well get the hell out of here.”

  ***

  Even though they’d only been gone a couple of hours, Jillian felt exhausted when they got back to her house. The idea of lying down and taking a nap had more appeal than she cared to think about.

  “Thanks, Sam. I’m sorry the whole thing was a bust.” She unlocked the car doors.

  “Not your fault. But now that Eric knows about us we’ll have to be sneakier.” He opened his door and got out.

  She came around the car to walk with him towards his truck. “Sometimes it feels so overwhelming.” The words seemed stuck in her throat. “It was great to have your help today.”

  “No problem. We’re going to figure this out.”

  She pulled him into a hug that felt awkward at first but quickly felt more comforting than anything else. “I really appreciate this, Sam.” Unwanted tears stung at the edges of her lashes as a sense of relief riddled through. Not being alone even for this short period of time gave her a slice of peace.

  “I want to help.” It looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. “Do you want to go get a pizza or something?”

  The idea of something so normal was a great lure, but she fought it back. Normal could wait until she had her son home. “Thanks, but I’m exhausted. I think I’ll sit around and drive myself crazy with worry instead,” she grinned.

  “You do know worry doesn’t help, right?”

  “So I’ve heard. That doesn’t mean I can stop myself.”

  “Feel free to give me a call if you change your mind. I’ll be hanging out trying to avoid working around the house.”

  “Thanks again.”

  He walked to his car, got in, started it up and lowered the window. “You going to visit Travis tomorrow?”

  “I planned on it.”

  “Mind if we ride together?”

  “I’ll pick you up. Just give me your address and I’ll plug it into my GPS.”

  He scribbled a note onto a piece of paper and handed it to her. “See you tomorrow.” Without another word he pulled out of the driveway.

  She nodded, then waved as he left. Part of Jillian wanted to chase him down and get him to come back so she wouldn’t be alone. Instead, she filled the watering can and gave her flowers a much overdue drink. Just as she was about to go into the house, she heard a car pull into the driveway.

  Reggie’s car screeched to a stop. Seconds later, he opened the door and stalked toward her.

  “What the fuck? You’re firing me, after I got up in the middle of the night to help your k
id?”

  The vehemence of his tone caught her off guard for a second or two. On all of their previous encounters he’d been solicitous—creepy but solicitous.

  “I should have called you sooner, but I just met with the new attorney the other day.”

  “Yeah, I heard about it when I went to see my client and found out I’d been replaced.”

  Would she ever understand the depth of the male ego? “No disrespect, Reggie. I appreciate your time and efforts but I thought it was best to work with somebody who has more experience in juvenile court.”

  “Who is he?”

  She blew out a breath as exasperation simmered inside. “Does it really matter?”

  “You got the name from that jock Sam Carter, didn’t you?”

  “I make my own decisions about my son.”

  “The guy’s quite a piece of work, I’ll give you that. He has a juvenile record a mile long, then he got drummed out of the NFL because of an addiction problem. What does he know about a good attorney? I’m the best out there.”

  “I’m sure you are, Reggie, but I needed to make a decision based on what was best for Travis.” She set the watering can down on the front porch. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go inside and make myself some dinner.”

  “He only wants to screw you. You know that, right?”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  “It’s obvious.”

  “Thanks for the warning.” Without another word, she walked inside, then closed and locked the door. She couldn’t relax until Reggie’s car pulled out of the driveway.

  Chapter Ten

  “Are you sure she won’t mind?” Jillian wasn’t quite sure she’d made the right decision when she agreed to go with Sam to his foster family home for dinner. Maybe she was still trying to make sense of the weird vibe she got from Travis during the visit and didn’t want to brood about it alone for the remainder of the evening. Maybe she was sick and tired of being alone. Maybe she was a little curious about Sam.

  He’d only glossed over his high profile life during their ride before quickly changing the subject to topics other than himself. Despite the fact she hated herself for leaning on him, she’d be foolish if she didn’t proceed with a little more caution.

  “Turn right at the next corner.” Sam rattled off directions while she drove. “Mama Iris loves a crowd. I think she cooks for twenty people every Sunday and when fewer show up, she’s disappointed.”

  Travis’ words beat like a drum within her ears. “Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I’m fine.” But she could see the evidence of his lie in the way he’d avoided looking at her. Maybe she was being paranoid, but she’d seen that look before and it spelled trouble.

  She chewed her lip. “Travis seemed really off today.”

  Had Sam caught on to Travis’ strange behavior today? Paranoia coupled with guilt along with a chaser of doubt broke along her nerve endings. Her active imagination catapulted her into the danger zone and she needed somebody to bring her back to sanity.

  “That’s bound to happen. The enormity of the situation sinks in; he feels like everything is spinning out of control.”

  She couldn’t help envying Sam’s steady nerves, especially when every part of her overcharged body seemed to be pulsating with a kind of unidentified fear. “But I can’t help worrying.”

  “I’m not going to lie to you, it’s tough inside, but you worrying 24/7 isn’t going to help him. Travis is a smart kid. He knows how to avoid trouble.” His soothing words slid over her skin as a kind of balm.

  “Spoken like somebody who’s been there.”

  He turned in his seat to look at her. “I never claimed to be an angel.” When he smiled, everything Reggie had warned her about seemed to disappear into thin air. “Here we are,” he pointed to a house on the left.

  Jillian wasn’t sure what she expected, but what she saw when they pulled into the driveway surprised her. They got out of the car and walked toward the home.

  A willowy black woman who looked to be in her late sixties rocked on the porch of a large rambling house, simultaneously shouting out football strategies to anyone who would listen, while group of boys played on the enormous front yard.

  “Go deep, Jessie. Come on, you know better than that.” The woman shook her head. “Do you want me to get off this porch and show you how it’s done?” Her chuckle seemed to come from her toes, as if the very idea of her moving off that porch anytime within the next hour or so wasn’t even a remote possibility.

  “Hey, Mama.” Sam brought her into a tight hug. “You know Marty’s team is running the nickel defense. There’s no getting anywhere with that strategy.”

  She tsked. “A woman can try, can’t she?” When she smiled her whole face seemed to glow. “It’s good to see you, boy.” She glanced at Jillian and raised her eyebrows.

  “Mama, this is Jillian Beckett. She’s a friend.” If Jillian wasn’t mistaken there was a hint of hesitation in his voice.

  “Friend, huh?” Her eyes slid to Sam then back to Jillian before smiling. “You come over here, girl, and give Mama a hug. I guarantee my hugs will cure everything that ails you.”

  Sam had warned her that Mama Iris was a touchy feely kind of person, but that appeared to be a gross understatement as the woman she’d known for all of ten seconds swooped her into a hug and held on. It had been a long time since Jillian felt such a sense of unconditional acceptance coming from another human being. Her parents’ absence seemed even more pronounced during the few seconds that followed as memories from long ago flashed through her mind.

  Acceptance. Kindness. Words that she’d attached to family but words that had been missing in her marriage for so long she wasn’t sure they were ever there. The bite of resentment bubbled fresh as she thought about everything she could and would have done differently to ensure a better home life for Travis. Instead, she brushed it from her mind and focused on the smiling woman before her and the sense of contentment that seemed to ooze from her pores.

  Sounds of soulful jazz and the sweet smell of apple pie traveled through the open windows and onto the porch. Jillian sucked in a deep breath and any residual anxiety evaporated into the fresh clean air of the valley.

  Jillian’s stomach grumbled. “Sorry.”

  “Boy, haven’t you fed this poor girl?” She scowled at Sam before she placed her hands on her hips. “She’s skinny enough as it is.”

  “Why would I take her to some four star restaurant when I told her she hasn’t lived until she’s tasted your cooking.” Sam’s smile was broad. For the first time, Jillian noticed the dimple in his left cheek.

  “Hush, now.” This seemed to be a familiar banter between them with Mama fishing for compliments and Sam readily supplying them. “You know the way to my heart.” She shooed him away as she turned toward the door. “You try to knock some football sense into Ty so he doesn’t get the snot kicked out of him. Me and Ms. Jillian will go into the house and get this poor girl something to eat.”

  Drawn inside by a force she couldn’t quite identify, she followed Mama Iris. The home was open from front to the back with a breathtaking view of the valley. A gigantic u-shaped brown couch nestled into the corner, positioned perfectly to take in the panoramic view. The oversized wooden table in the kitchen had to seat at least twenty. A large pot simmered and bubbled on a commercial grade stove as the soulful music of Dinah Washington played in the background.

  “It smells incredible in here.” Embarrassingly, her stomach grumbled again.

  “You’re way too hungry to wait until they finish playing. I’ve got the apple pies still baking, but the lasagna is done and resting in my warming drawer. Let me fix you a plate.” She motioned for Jillian to sit at one of the stools along the granite counter, while she pulled a plate from the cupboard.

  “You’re too kind.” Jillian’s mouth salivated as Mama sliced off a piece of lasagna, plunked it on the plate and covered it with the bubbling sauce from the stove.

&
nbsp; “Absolutely not. Sam knows he can always bring friends over anytime he likes.” She set the plate in front of Jillian, along with a glass of lemonade and a salad bowl. “Besides, I heard about your boy.” She shook her head. “Something’s not right there. Travis is a good kid.”

  “You’ve met him?”

  “I show up at Sam’s practices. Somebody’s got to give that boy some pointers when he’s messing up. Just because he’s the coach and played in the NFL doesn’t mean he knows everything.” Smiling, she took a sip of the coffee she’d poured for herself.

  “Sam told you about what happened?” She realized quickly she knew nothing about Sam, except benign things relative to his football career. He’d never mentioned Mama Iris except on the way here. At the time she’d figured it was his grandmother, but there didn’t seem to be any biological connection between the two.

  “Of course, he tells me everything.” She smiled again. “Well, most everything. I guess he forgot to mention you.” She chuckled.

  “Oh there’s nothing,” Jillian gulped, “between us. Sam’s been kind enough to help me out with Travis, or at least help me with...”

  Mama came to the other side of the counter faster than would be expected considering her age. Immediately, she drew Jillian into a hug and patted her back. “I know it’s hard. You love those darn kids so much you want to make sure their lives are perfect. But sometimes, the learning is in the experiences. Travis will get out of this and he’ll be a better kid because of it.” She squeezed harder. “Besides, between Cole and Sam, there’s no way that boy’s going to jail for something he didn’t do.”

  Reassured by her words, Jillian slipped out of the embrace. “You know Cole too?”

  “Of course. They both lived here with me. They fought like cats and dogs at the start, but eventually, they warmed up to each other. They always do in Mama’s house. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”