The detective stood, and Jason realized she was only a couple inches shy of his height. After dismissing the officer, she scrutinized Jason. “Are you for real?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“If this is some sort of fraternity gag, I’ll charge you with obstruc-tion of justice, got it?”
Jason’s eyes widened. He had a live one here. “I wish this was a gag, but it’s not.”
Still squinting at him, she gestured to the chair facing her desk and took a seat. “Okay, I’ll open up a new file, Mister — ?”
“Scott. Jason Scott.”
The detective typed quickly, entering the information she gleaned from her rapid-fire questions. The interrogation had an easy rhythm, and Jason felt his father’s presence lifting off his shoulders as he confessed the details of the theft. Maybe he would finally stay sober.
Then the detective asked who else was involved in stealing the cell phones.
“I can’t say, ma’am. I’m trying to make amends to people I’ve hurt, not get anyone else in trouble.” Her tone softened. “You’re working step number nine, huh?” Jason nodded. “I have a brother in the program. You remind me of him a bit, minus the part about taking responsibility for yourself.
So who’ve you hurt?”
“My mom and brother.”
She nodded, and after a few more questions, Detective Easton read him his rights and arrested him, informing him he’d be placed in a holding cell until he went before a judge. As if on cue, an officer came into the office and hauled Jason to his feet.
“You did the right thing, Mr. Scott,” she said.
Their eyes met for a moment as the officer placed him in handcuffs. “Thank you, ma’am.”
As they walked down the hall, Jason tried to convince himself the detective was correct. After a lifetime of wrongs, he hoped he was finally doing right.
22. Come Clean, Come Home
Leo stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, sweating and disoriented. His alarm had interrupted an intense dream of being chased by the police. He was glad Wednesday was the team’s one morning off, but he already felt nervous about afternoon practice.
Actually, he worried about the entire day ahead.
Splashing some cold water on his face, he leaned closer to examine the damage. The cut on his bottom lip looked better, but the gash on his forehead was a deep, angry red and crusted with dried blood.
The bruise on his right cheek had bloomed into shades of purple and gold. Terrific. A loyal Pensacola Panther to the end, he now wore the school colors on his face.
Trudging down the stairs to breakfast, Leo reminded himself that his father had already left to catch an early military transport back to Miramar. He wondered how CS would explain his own colorful face.
A short time later, Leo walked into the high school feeling clear-headed and eager to make a fresh start. He made a beeline for the assistant principal’s office and, taking a deep breath, he knocked and entered.
Mr. Morrison inhaled sharply when he looked up at Leo’s face.
“What happened to you?” He pointed to a chair.
“I got in a fight, sir. It happened off of school property, I promise.”
“Who was it?” When Leo didn’t answer, Mr. Morrison inquired,
“Was it Billy Ryan?”
Leo gave his best poker face. “Let’s just say the other guy looks a lot worse.”
“And you’re proud of that? Violence isn’t the answer, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Your once-bright high school career’s gone down the crapper, Leo. What’s this I hear about you being in drug treatment?”
“Sorry, sir. I’ll do better. At least the treatment center let me go early so I don’t have to miss class.” Mr. Morrison appeared distracted by the thick stack of papers on his desk. “Good. First bel ’s about to ring so you better get going.”
“Yes, sir.” He stood to leave.
“Leo? Steer clear of your brother. He’s a bad influence on you.” Leo bristled. “Jason’s a good man, sir. Too bad you don’t see it.” Rushing to chemistry, Leo barely made it to his seat before the bell rang. Mrs. Boyd gave him the arsenic eye as she distributed the tests. Leo panicked — he’d forgotten about today’s exam.
Audrey reached over to pat his thigh before the teacher reached their row of desks.
“That’s not helping with my concentration!” he whispered.
She smiled and removed her hand, turning to sit studiously in her seat. Leo took a deep breath and prepared himself for some creative guessing.
Leo felt sick after the test. He knew he’d bombed it. He gladly shoved his chemistry book into his locker. As he pulled out his government textbook, he noticed Billy Ryan had sidled up next to him.
“Scott,” Billy growled. “Looks like Navy boy finally got what was coming to him.”
Leo struggled for control. He should’ve expected Billy to gloat.
Audrey had asked him to take credit for the beating. Having lived for years with a man who followed through on threats of violence, Leo knew Billy was all talk. Nothing had happened in the five months since their altercation.
“Leave me alone.” Leo stared directly at him. Though they were both a little over six feet tall, Billy outweighed Leo by forty pounds.
“I think I need to multiply those bruises, Mr. Mathlete. I didn’t get to experience the real thing.” Bil y squinted. “So who does get the credit for busting up that pretty little face?”
“Your dad punched me when he discovered your mom and me together in bed,” Leo deadpanned.
Billy’s black eyes narrowed. “You little punk,” he snarled, stepping closer.
“You want a week’s suspension, Billy?” Leo tilted his head to find Mr. Morrison in the hallway, watching them intently.
Billy patted Leo’s shoulder with a beefy hand. “This ain’t over.”
“Whatever.”
Leo gave Mr. Morrison a defiant glare and headed to his next class. He could come to enjoy this new bad-boy role. Instead of hiding at home, waiting for his bruises to heal while he was “grounded,” sauntering around the high school with his busted face gave him instant credibility and coolness. How screwed up was that?
At lunchtime, Leo joined Audrey, Elaine, and Alex in the cafeteria, where they’d lucked into having the same lunch period for the second semester of their senior year.
Eyeing Leo’s bruises, Elaine asked, “So, where’d Billy corner you?” Leo exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Audrey. “I was actually coming out of Urgent Care as he was coming in — he was getting an x-ray or something. I heard he dropped a dumbbell on his foot in the weight room. Wrong place, wrong time, I guess.”
“You had to go to the doctor to get tested for mono?” Alex asked.
When Leo nodded, he clucked. “That sucks you got slapped around, Leopatra.”
“Do. Not. Call. Me. That.” Leo tried to hide a grin.
“Yeah, you really sound sympathetic, Alexis.” Elaine smirked.
“Shut up, hag!” Alex stuck his tongue out at Elaine.
Audrey stuck to the cover story. “The good news is Leo doesn’t have mono. He can return to practice today.” Alex rol ed his eyes. “I bet you’re excited he doesn’t have the kis ing disease. I don’t care what your orientation is, just keep it to yourself, people, okay? I’m getting tired of you sticking your PDA in my face.”
To spite Alex, Leo skated his hand through Audrey’s hair and gently drew her close, touching his forehead to hers and planting a loud kiss on her lips. He tasted turkey sandwich on her mouth.
Alex pointed emphatically. “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Stop flaunting your heterosexuality.”
“Sorry, Alex.” Audrey grinned. “We’ll try not to make you lose your appetite.”
A few hours later, Leo walked out onto the pool deck. It was unseasonably warm for late January, and he soaked in the sunshine as he tightened the string on his drag suit. The smell of
chlorine relaxed him, and the clear blue water conveyed a shimmering peace.
His coach’s brusque approach interrupted his reverie.
“What happened to you?” Matt asked.
Leo hated lying. “Remember that fight I got into in September?
Well, it was payback time.”
“That Billy Ryan kid? That tool? You could totally take him, Leo.”
“I guess I’m still off my game from the withdrawal.” Matt’s tone softened. “How’s treatment going?”
“Great!” Leo grinned. “Especially since it’s over.”
“Over? Treatment can’t be over. It just started.” Leo shrugged. “Mr. Shale said I was doing fine. He didn’t want me to miss so much school, so he told me I’m done.” Matt’s eyebrows lifted. “Well…Good to have you back. You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yes, sir.” Leo grabbed his mesh equipment bag and headed over to the fast lane. Audrey had already started her warm-up in the lane to the right.
“Hey, Eric.” Leo reached down to shake his hand. “I forgot to tell you your five hundred kicked butt at the invitational on Saturday. Way to go, man.”
Eric looked surprised, then pleased. “Thanks, Leo. I heard you were sick?”
“Yeah.” Leo surveyed the lane ahead. “I was sick.” Sick in the mind, body, and soul. “But I’m better now.” After gingerly pulling on his goggles to avoid the cuts on his face, Leo jumped in. At first the cold water stung the gash on his forehead, but then it washed over his wounds, cleansing him of the pain of the past twenty-four hours.
Leo popped to the surface and began taking sure, strong strokes.
It felt good to be home.
23. Fathers
Audrey and her father sat on their respective sides of the visiting booth. “So, Dad, how’s the pregnancy coming along?” After a moment his puzzled look morphed into a smile. “Not so great. It’s hard getting prenatal vitamins inside the joint.” He looked down at his waistline. “Am I showing?” Audrey giggled. “Not yet. Maybe in your second trimester.”
“How’s swimming, honey?”
“Good. We start taper in three weeks!” Audrey couldn’t wait to lighten workouts in preparation for the high school state meet. Though some swimmers got restless or even anxious during taper, Audrey entered the zone. Matt could rely on her to swim her best times when it really counted. Leo, on the other hand, was a crapshoot this year.
Her father smiled as he cradled the phone to his ear. “I know how much you love taper. Matt stil hitting you with a lot of yardage?”
“Yeah, yesterday we did eight one-seventy-five IMs with long rest, trying to beat our goal time for the two hundred IM. My muscles were like jelly. I can’t imagine college practices being much harder.” He brightened. “You decided on college?”
“Yep. Florida State. I’m getting a full ride, and I love it there.” Her father paused. “Why not Northwestern?”
“Because it’s freezing there!”
“Okay, okay.” He chuckled. “I just want to make sure the decision’s best for you. You don’t have to stay in Florida just because I’m here, at least for now.”
She nodded.
“Will Leo go to FSU as well?”
Audrey’s face fell. “He’s going to the Academy. His father’s making him.”
“Making him? That’s a nine-year commitment. I can’t believe James would force him to go.”
She hesitated. Leo’s secret had weighed heavily on her for days.
He’d be upset if she said anything, but she also knew there wasn’t much her father could do from prison. “I think there’s a lot you don’t know about the commander, Dad.”
Aware of the MP monitoring their conversation, Audrey tried to figure out a clandestine way to communicate. “Have you, um, studied the verb golpear?”
Her father shook his head.
She hit her right fist into her palm and then tapped her right fist against her jaw, and her father nodded. “El padre de Leo…él lo golpea.” His eyes opened wide. “That can’t be right, Audrey. I’ve known su padre for years, and he’d never do that.” Audrey shook her head. “Es la verdad. I saw it, Dad. He almost, he almost…” Her voice trailed off. She pointed at her chest and drew her fist close to her jaw. “Casi me golpea a mí.” Her father’s eyes narrowed, and Audrey quickly added, “But Leo stopped him.”
His hand clenched into a fist on the counter in front of him.
“You have to tell somebody! Child Protective Services, a teacher, a counselor — ”
“I can’t. Leo made me promise. He’s thinks su padre won’t do it again.”
“That’s what they all say.” He slumped in his chair. “How’d this go on and I had no idea? Did it happen to Jason too?” Audrey felt tears well up. “I think so. He, su padre, made Jason leave and promise to never come back.”
Her father just stared.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” Audrey said. “But it’s been killing me, and I didn’t know who else to tell.” Her father cleared his throat. “I’m glad you told me, honey. I’m so sorry for you, and for Leo. Nobody should have to go through that. I hope he’s right that su padre won’t golpear him anymore.” He forced a smile. “See? You taught me a new word.” Audrey nodded sadly, and they sat for a few moments. “I miss you, Dad.”
He swallowed, blinking quickly. “I miss you so much, Audrey girl.”
“It won’t be the same at state without you.”
“Well, I’ll be there in spirit, honey. You’ll do an awesome job as long as you keep working hard.”
Audrey mustered a wan smile. “Yes, sir.”
Lt. Commander Roland Drake waited in the Jeep for his CO.
Now thirty-nine, Roland had been part of Air Department V4 for less than two years, but it was by far the toughest assignment of his military career. He’d never served under a more demanding boss. Unfortunately that boss had just returned to Miramar after a mystery trip to Florida.
Commander Scott stepped off the plane and practically marched down the metal stairway onto the tarmac. Roland scrambled out of the vehicle to exchange a brisk salute. Scott was in his seat and ready to go before Roland could even get the door open. He fumbled for a moment, then began to maneuver the car through the base.
“How was your time in Florida, sir?”
“Excellent. How’s the review of the maintenance quality issues?”
“Fine, sir,” Roland lied, feeling the heat of his boss’s eyes.
“Are we finished with the testing?”
“Not quite, sir. We had a holdup on the C-Forty Clippers. The air boss hasn’t cleared them for flight.”
“And how is that our problem, Mr. Drake?”
“I’m sure we’ll get it figured out today, sir.”
“Good. I want to get back home ASAP.” The commander gazed off in the distance, seemingly at nothing.
“Are you okay, sir? It looks like you got in a fight.” Commander Scott glared at him, and Roland instantly regretted the question.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was mugged last night.”
“Mugged? Did they catch the guy?”
“I didn’t file a report. I make my own justice.” Roland hesitated. “I’m sure the other guy looks much worse, sir.” Commander Scott nodded, his fury evident in his voice. “He won’t be trying that again anytime soon.” They drove in silence to their assigned hangar and spent the next few hours consulting on safety measures. The EA-6B Prowler’s electronic circuitry had problems, and it took most of the morning to run system diagnostics.
When they’d finished, Commander Scott left for lunch, and after a safe amount of time had passed, Roland moved in on a female lieutenant. He was just about to brush his fingers down her thigh when he found his CO screaming in his face.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out the C-Forty Clippers are already in the air?” he bellowed. “I was at lunch with Commander Branson, and I looked like a freaking idiot!” Roland stood at at
tention alongside the lieutenant, his palms moist with sweat. “I thought Commander Branson deployed this morning, sir?”
“His deployment was delayed!” Commander Scott began to pace.
“You thought you could pull a fast one just because the air boss would be gone? What’s going on here?”
Roland’s heart thumped. “I screwed up, sir. I haven’t had time to study the C-Forty design blueprints yet. It’s my fault the review’s not complete.”
“Why haven’t you had time?”
“We were here till twenty-three-hundred last night, and you arrived at oh-eight-hundred this morning, sir.”
“And what’s occupied your time the past forty-five minutes? It appears you’ve chosen to flirt with your subordinate here instead of doing your duty, Mr. Drake.”
Roland’s face burned, furious at being chewed out in public.
“No excuse, sir.”
Commander Scott closed in once again, his voice soft, yet menacing. “You will not lie to me, Mr. Drake. Walsh and Rose were hardly adequate lieutenant commanders, but they knew damn well never to lie to me. This will go in your performance report, and you can kiss one week’s salary goodbye.”
Roland’s face remained neutral, despite his nausea. “Yes, sir.”
“Now, get outta my sight, and do your job so we can go home.”
“Right away, sir.” Roland did an about face and jogged into the hangar.
As he dashed to one of the offices, Roland’s eyes tapered into slits. How dare the commander embarrass him like that? A superior hadn’t dressed him down that way since the time Bill Walsh had caught him in a lie. Now Walsh was six feet under.
24. Bailing Out
Slouched on the bench in the shadows of the holding cell, his clothes now hopelessly wrinkled and his person in desperate need of a shower, Jason fought to hide his fear. A smattering of whistles and catcalls broke the silence, and he looked up to see Detective Easton approaching. She squelched the noise with a glare.
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