ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO

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ALL THINGS PRETTY PART TWO Page 5

by M. Leighton


  That thought hits me right in the heart. What will happen to this kid if I can’t make the DA see things my way? He’ll have lost everything. His parents, his siblings, his childhood. His innocence.

  The thought has the same effect as subjecting iron to fire. It steels me, hardens my determination to a level that is absolutely impenetrable.

  “Listen, Dorothy is gonna need to talk to you here shortly with a detective present. That has to happen before they can let you see Tommi. I have an errand to run. It’s important. But when I’m done, I’ll come back, take you to see Tommi and then I’ll take you home, okay? We’ll get your mom taken care of and then maybe do some gaming. Sound like a plan? I think blowing shit up on TV might do both of us some good tonight.”

  I see one corner of his mouth curve a little. I take that as a good sign and decide that it’s better not to push my luck any more at the moment. I go back out and get Dorothy.

  “He’s all yours. I’ll be back in an hour or so to take him to see his sister and then get him back home.”

  She nods. “I think we can manage to have him ready for you by then.”

  As I’m walking out of the building, the first person I call is my dad.

  ********

  Less than an hour later, I’m walking up the curved front porch steps to Bill Lemmon’s house. He’s the DA. He’s worked with my father for years and I’ve met him several times. I would never have called Dad and asked him for a favor if this weren’t so important. But here I am, on a Sunday night, paying a visit to maybe the only other person who needs to believe Tommi as much as I do.

  He meets me at the door, opening it before I can even raise my hand toward the bell. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Locke,” he says stiffly, offering his hand before stepping aside to let me enter.

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk to me. I know it’s late, but…”

  He pins me with his shrewd blue eyes and nods, saying nothing before he turns and leads me to his study. It’s done in browns and reds, much like his office downtown, if I remember correctly. That strikes me as a little odd, but whatever. If that’s what gets him off…

  He takes a seat behind the wide desk and I ease down into one of the chairs in front of it. Even though we’re in this guy’s home, it’s all business. Yeah, it definitely has the feel like we’re downtown.

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “You got the file?”

  “Yes. I’ve been looking at the reports. Talked to your captain, too.”

  “Then you know the basics. I’m here to talk to you about her options,” I begin, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “She was thirteen years old when her older brother attacked her younger brother and their mother. He was jacked up on bath salts. Knocked the younger kid around a little. Beat the shit out of the mother. She never has recovered completely. The girl, Tia, she swung the bat once to get him to stop hitting the mother. Killed him with one strike. No intent to kill. She was afraid for her life, and that of her family. It was just her and her brother after that. She took care of him and the mother. Both of them…challenged. The youngest, he has Asperger’s. Needs some special care. Good kid, though. High functioning. But I can see where she’d feel the need to look out for him. He needs security, routine, which I learned in my research is pretty typical. Then, to make matters worse, Lance Tonin got a hold of her. Shit went downhill after that. Kid started muling for him, afraid to say no, afraid of what would happen to his sister. The whole thing’s messed up as hell. But, what I’m getting at…in a nutshell…is that at the time of commission, these crimes are all juvenile offenses.”

  I stop there, letting those words sink in. They’re the lynchpin of my whole case. And what I hope will be his whole case.

  “So what are you asking?”

  “I know in certain cases, Georgia law allows for involuntary manslaughter to be charged as a misdemeanor. This girl, Tia, she has gotten her GED, completed college courses, all so that she can provide for her and her brother by legal means. Legitimately. She was just waiting for him to turn eighteen so that the state couldn’t take him out of the home and stick him in the foster system or institutionalize him. Neither of them has been dinged for a damn thing in years. All juvenile offenses are measured against the likelihood of rehabilitation. They can be rehabilitated. Hell, they have been rehabilitated. They could have a good life if all this could be put behind them so they could have a fresh start. But you know as well as I do that Tia won’t get more than a shit job if she gets charged with a felony. Her life will be pretty much over.”

  Lemmon leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers and looking at me over the tops. “Misdemeanor, huh?”

  “Yes, sir. She was thirteen at the time. The unintentional death of her brother after what he’d done to their mother left her completely alone with a younger brother to raise. Since the commission of the crime, she’s made mostly good choices.”

  “You’re considering Lance Tonin a good choice?”

  “She didn’t have a choice there, sir. A guy like took advantage of a child. Has been ever since. Had her scared. Blackmailing her to keep her quiet, to keep her in line. But being afraid isn’t a crime. She’s committed no crimes for him, she’s covered up no crimes for him. She has simply played the obedient boy toy. Because she felt like she had no other choice.”

  He nods, eyes narrowing on me. “And the boy? Travis, you said?”

  I nod. “Courier. Never really knew what the hell he was doing. Just let his teacher, a trusted, adult role model, use him. Scare him into doing something that was supposedly for the good of his sister. If anything, though, I think his record should be scrubbed just because of the value of his testimony. If he turns on Chaps, the teacher, the teacher will turn on Tonin just to save his own ass. His testimony could be what puts Lance Tonin behind bars for a very long time. But it starts with the kid. We need him.”

  “So, basically, they both get off with a slap on the wrist rather than multiple felony charges.”

  My stomach sinks like a stone. The fact that he views it in such a way can’t be good. “No, sir. They haven’t gotten off. They’ve paid a hefty price. Several times over. They’ve been forced to live in a prison for years now. Neither of them has been free since their older brother died eight years ago. And, to be honest, I think they’ve suffered enough. They’ve been punished. Probably even past the extent of the law, just in a different way. Life took care of that. But they’ve learned from it. Have no desire to be criminals. They are both ready to let the past go and move on to better lives.”

  “And how are you so sure of this?”

  I know what he’s getting at. “I’ve spent months with them. They didn’t know me as a cop. Had no reason to show me anything other than what’s real, what’s true. I’m so convinced of this, I’d be willing to bet my career on it.”

  “Is that so?” he asks, raising one brow.

  “I’ll testify as character witnesses for both of them if you think it would help. Which brings me to another request.”

  He laughs, but it’s not a joyful sound. “There’s more? Do tell.”

  “I’d like to take care of the kid until something is decided about his sister. He needs to be in familiar surroundings. And he knows me. I think it’s what’s best for him.”

  “So you want me to enter a guilty plea of misdemeanor charges for both the kid and the sister. What if I can’t convince a judge to go for it?”

  “I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” I swallow. Hard. “Does that mean you’ll try?”

  He says nothing for the longest time, during which I picture myself leaping across the desk and choking the life out of him then running away with Tommi and Travis.

  “Let me talk to the girl. And the boy. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.”

  “Fine. Just let me know when.”

  “It’s not necessary for you to be there.”

  “No, but I’ll–”

  �
��In fact, I’d prefer that you’re not.”

  I clench my jaw. I want to argue, but I know better. It will only hurt my case for Tommi and Travis. “Okay. If that’s what you need.”

  He nods. “Now, if you’re done making requests…” He puts his hands flat on his desk as if to rise.

  I stand. “Of course. No, that’s it. I appreciate you seeing me.”

  “You can thank your father for that.”

  “Oh, he’ll get what he’s owed. Don’t you worry about that.”

  For the first time, I see a genuine smile appear on Lemmon’s face. “I imagine that’s true.”

  I stick out my hand. Lemmon takes it.

  “I can see myself out. Thanks again.”

  And with that, I turn and walk back the way I came, feeling a little more hopeful than when I got here.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - TOMMI

  It’s been over two hours since Sig left. I’m freezing, my butt is numb, I haven’t eaten since breakfast and I’ve been questioned so much my brain actually hurts. I’ve asked half a dozen times when I can see my brother. All I ever get is Soon.

  When the handle rattles and the door pushes open again, I glance up warily, afraid to hope for someone other than another inquisitor. My throat constricts and my eyes sting when I see Sig fill the doorway, only to step back and allow my brother to come inside.

  I get up and rush to him. He just stands there and lets me hug him, like a lump. But it’s the way he leans into me that tells me he’s as glad to see me as I am to see him.

  I wait until I’m sure I can control my voice and my expression before I pull away enough to look into his face. “How ya holding up?”

  He shrugs, casting his eyes down. “I’m okay.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Some lady brought me some snacks.”

  I glance up at Sig. He’s watching us with a sad smile. “I’m going to take him home. I’ll make sure he eats. And that your mom eats.”

  Sweet Mary, I forgot all about my own mother. I’m so distraught, so distressed, I forgot her.

  But Sig didn’t.

  The constriction in my throat gets tighter.

  Oh God, don’t make me love you!

  I bite my lip at the thought, willing my chin to stop trembling, but I know it’s too late. To stop the trembling and to stop loving Sig. I think I’ve loved him for a while now. No matter how much I fought it, I think it was inevitable.

  I give him a smile that is shaky at best. “Thank you.”

  His answering gesture is a lopsided grin, the one that turns my stomach inside out. “No problem. My sister’s coming over to help.”

  A little thread of alarm weaves its way down my spine. “Uhhh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Travis–”

  “Will love her. Trust me. And I think he’s looking forward to it. I told him most guys think she’s hot, but that I’d kick his ass if he flirted with her. He’s a daring soul.”

  I hear a muffled snort come from Travis. “Asshole.”

  It’s a derogatory term, of course, but from my brother, the way he says it, it sounds more like a friendly nickname.

  “Just in case your mother needs something that I can’t…that I shouldn’t…well, you know.”

  I didn’t even think of that. God help me, my mind is just…elsewhere. “Thank you for thinking of her. I…I don’t know what I would’ve done. I hadn’t even thought…”

  My voice breaks. Life seems to be determined to reiterate what a terrible person I am.

  Sig takes a step closer, looming behind Travis like a giant shadow. “Stop it. Don’t even go there.”

  He stares hard at me.

  I jack up my chin and ignore the burn of tears behind my eyes. “Thank you. That’s all I meant to say.”

  His fierce expression softens. “You’re welcome. I told you not to worry. I’ll take care of everything. I promise.”

  I look down at Travis to find that he has finally raised his eyes to mine. His lips crook to one side. A smile. He nods once, as if to say that he’s fine, that he’ll be all right. That we both will. And something in my heart sags in relief. As long as he’s okay, I can get through this.

  Before anything else can be said, a woman shows up behind Sig. “Taking her down to process her,” the tiny black lady says in a clipped, no-nonsense way, nodding at me.

  She stands back until Sig and Travis recede into the hall and then she takes me by the arm and guides me past them. I do the unwise, unthinkable thing and I look back, back to where my brother is standing with the man I love, back to where my brother is standing with the man who betrayed me. They will be going home together tonight, home to familiar comfort and freedom. I will be going to a cell.

  My heart breaks a little bit more.

  CHAPTER THIRTY- TWO- SIG

  Travis and I are eating fried chicken at the tiny kitchen table when I hear a knock at the door. I glance at Travis before I get up and go answer it. He shrinks down into his chair and looks excitedly at me. I just shake my head. Teenaged boys and their fascination with older women.

  I open the door to find my sister, back to her trim self, standing on the stoop. She gives me a broad smile.

  “What the hell’s so funny?”

  “Dad told me everything. You thought I wouldn’t laugh? Do you know me?”

  “Evidently not,” I mutter as she passes me. I close the door and show her into the kitchen. “Sloane, this is Travis. Travis, this is my baby sister, Sloane.”

  For a minute, I’m afraid Travis might swallow his tongue. He’s trying to hide his face by tucking his chin, but he’s also trying to ogle my sister. It makes for an interesting and extremely uncomfortable few seconds.

  “Nice to meet you, Travis. How’d you get stuck with Barney here?” she asks, nodding at me.

  Travis grins. “Shitty luck, I guess.”

  “I’d say. Did he tell you I have a baby?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I do. I change her and feed her, clean her up. All the things I’ll do for your mom, if that’s okay. I mean, after living with Sig for most of my life, taking care of a baby… or anybody else for that matter, is easy as pie.”

  I reach underneath the thick fall of my sister’s dark hair and pinch her ear, hard enough to make her yelp. “What was that you said? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  “See what I mean?” she quips.

  Travis is still grinning. I feel like I’ve worked a miracle.

  “You want to take her and introduce her to your mom, Travis? I don’t want the poor woman to think the crypt keeper has come to take her away.”

  Sloane punches me on the arm. “Hey, watch your mouth! You’re older than I am.”

  “I know, you just look worse.”

  Sloane’s mouth falls open and she looks to Travis. “Are you just gonna let him talk to me like that?”

  Travis shrugs. I think he’s a little uncertain of how to take our banter. “I don’t know. Want me to kick his ass?”

  “I’d love to see that, actually, but maybe just in Grand Theft Auto for now.”

  “Done.”

  “That’s fine. Gang up on Sig. It’ll just make it sweeter when I win. Which I will.”

  “Dream on,” Travis says, getting more into the spirit of things.

  “We’ll see, lil man. We’ll see.” I glance back down at Travis’s plate. “Finish eating. I’ll help Sloane get the food ready.”

  Travis sits down to pick at his chicken, all the while watching Sloane from the corner of his eye. She follows me to the counter where the bag of food rests.

  “I got a chicken pot pie. I figured that shit’s nearly mush anyway. Might be easy to feed her.”

  Sloane takes it out of the bag and pokes through the crust with a fork, checking the consistency of the goop inside. “Yeah, this will be good. Nutritious, too. Chicken, vegetables, some carbs.”

  “And she keeps protein drinks in the fridge.” I get her one, along with a bottle of water.


  Sloane nods. “Okay, show me toward the bathroom.” I do and she gathers a towel and washcloth, along with a basin full of hygiene stuff that looks like the one I’ve seen Tommi carry in there before.

  Before we can get out, Travis appears in the doorway. “I’m done.”

  Sloane smiles at him. The kid’s cheeks flush and I roll my eyes. God help me, Sloane will gloat for a year. “Then let’s go meet Mom.”

  The rest of the evening goes surprisingly well. Sloane takes care of Tommi’s mom with no problems. Travis seems as relaxed as he’s likely to get, all things considered. But I’m okay with that. I know it would make Tommi happy. And what makes Tommi happy makes me happy. As much as I wanted to avoid getting into a place like this–my happiness tied up in someone else’s–here I am. Truthfully, it’s not as bad as I expected it to be.

  Sloane sticks around much longer than I expected. She washes and dries a load of laundry, cleans up the kitchen and makes Travis a lunch for tomorrow.

  “You mean I gotta go to school tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. We don’t need to push anything right now. You get that, right? You see why you need to be a model citizen and student?”

 

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