Grain of Truth (Innocence Unit Book 1)
Page 5
She forced her feet to move. She walked over the checked floor, each step bringing her closer and closer to the man that she’d promised to love and cherish until death do them part. But she hadn’t known then what she knew now. She couldn’t be joined to this man anymore.
“El,” he whispered when she was close. He reached out for her.
She ducked away from his hand. “You won’t sign the papers.”
“Geez, El, that’s why you’re here?” His face fell and he sat down heavily. “You’re really serious about this, huh?” he asked the table.
“You think divorce papers are a joke?” Her voice was too high pitched. She sat down too, opposite him.
“No, no, I just thought maybe you were trying to make a point or something. I thought—I hoped…” He looked up at her. “Do you have any idea what it’s like in here? I can’t do this without you.”
“You are doing it without me,” she said, even though her heart was breaking. For so long, she had wanted to protect his man. When he was sick, she made him chicken soup and got him cold medicine. When he was cold, she hunted up extra blankets from the hall closet. Sometimes, at night, they cuddled close in bed, and she had clung to him, never wanting anything to happen to him. Tears sprang to her eyes. “You’re in here. I’m not. We’re not together anymore.”
“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he said softly. He always hated it when she cried. “Come on, if anyone should be crying—”
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She was fierce now. Her nostrils flared. “You’re the only person responsible for the fact you’re here. No one held a gun to your head and told you to create a drug empire.”
“Empire? Geez.” He shook his head. “I don’t have an empire.” He was sulky.
“Oh, whatever. I know much cash they seized from our shed. I was there when they served the warrant. I spent so long saying it was a mistake, that you were framed. I put my reputation on the line for you, and then there was all that money. Right under my nose.” Now tears were flying out of her eyes. Angry, she dashed them away. “You fucking bastard, Felix. Sign the goddamn papers.”
“Look, El, that money—”
“Spare me,” she said. “Don’t lie to me and say it’s not yours.”
“It’s not.”
She glared at him. “They found your fingerprints all over the plastic wrap you had the bills wrapped in.” She still remembered that, huge bricks of cash wrapped in plastic, like green baked goods. How had there been so much damned money in the shed? She never went in there. It was Felix’s domain, not hers. She’d trusted him so blindly. She hadn’t known. God, she’d been such an idiot.
“I didn’t say that I hadn’t touched it, but that doesn’t mean—”
“How does that make it better?” she demanded. “Tell me. How?”
He licked his lips. “Look, okay, El, things got out of control. In the beginning, it was only supposed to be one job, just a little extra cash to help with the down payment on the house.”
She gasped a little. “The gift from your dad? That wasn’t a gift, was it?”
He shut his eyes.
She had wanted to send a thank-you note to his father for the gift, but Felix had convinced her not to. He said his dad didn’t want a big thing made over it, and that he’d find the thank-you note uncomfortable. Felix said his father never wanted them to mention the gift.
God, how could she have been so stupid?
“I’m not a bad guy,” said Felix. He reached across the table for her. “Come on, you know me.”
“No,” she said softly, and she put her hands on her lap so that he couldn’t touch her. “I don’t know you at all.”
“I’m still me, baby,” he said. “I’m the man you married.”
“You’re not.” And she was crying again.
“I need you. Stick with me through this. If you put in a good word for me, I could get a reduced sentence. I could be out before too long. We could still have a future together.”
“Are you crazy, Felix? Why are you saying this?” She wiped at her face, brushing aside her tears.
“Because I love you,” he said softly. “Because you love me too. Because we’ve faced everything together so far, and I can’t do this if you’re not with me.”
“Felix, please.” It came out as a sob. He was making this all so much harder.
“I fucked up,” he said. “Okay, I did. I admit it, and I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But please. Please, Elke. Don’t divorce me.”
“I have to,” she said through her tears. “Don’t you understand?”
“No.” And now there was a crack in his own voice. “I really don’t.”
“You betrayed my trust. You lied to me. And you kept on lying to me, even as you watched me destroy my reputation.”
“El—”
“I lost my job,” she said. “Did you know that? Because no jury would trust my judgment. Hell, I couldn’t even tell my own husband was a drug dealer.”
“I’m not a drug dealer,” he said. “I don’t push my product on anyone. There’s a demand, and I meet it, that’s all. It’ll happen with or without me, so it’s not a moral thing.”
She drew back. “What?” That was the most self-serving rationalization she’d ever heard. It disgusted her.
Felix shrugged. “It’s not a moral thing. And anyway, you have another job. I tried to call you—”
“Don’t do that,” she said. “Don’t ever call me again. You and I are over. I don’t think I ever knew you at all.” She gazed at the man in front of her. He was like a stranger to her. “Sign the papers or don’t. If you keep refusing, I’ll get an order for a default divorce. One way or another, this marriage will be officially over. Because it’s already over, Felix. There’s nothing left.”
“El, come on,” said Felix.
She slid the papers across the table. “Sign them, Felix.”
He peered down at the papers. Then he shook his head. “You really are going to push this, aren’t you?”
“You know it.”
He paged through the divorce papers. Then he shook his head. “No, I don’t want half the house. You take the house. All of it.”
She sighed. “If you think making some gesture is going to change my mind—”
“I don’t need it,” he said. “I got that house for you. I want you to have it. You may hate me, but I still love you, and I still want to take care of you.”
Her lower lip trembled. Damn him. His stupid gesture was making it all harder.
“So, change that, and I’ll sign it,” he said, shoving it back to her.
She seized the pen on the table and made the adjustments on the paper. If he thought he was going to call her bluff, he had another thing coming. That done, she presented him with the papers once again.
He looked stricken.
“Going to back out now?”
“No,” he murmured. He picked up the pen. “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, El.” He signed.
* * *
Iain peered down at the file. He’d read over the case a few times, but he hadn’t given it a thorough going over, and he thought that he might as well. He didn’t want to take things home since they were all using the originals, and he’d neglected to ask about making copies, so he sat at his desk, gazing down at the pages.
“Hello?” called a voice.
He got up from his desk. Hmm. He had said to Amos that he would lock up after Amos left, but he’d completely forgotten to do that. Damn it.
Iain got up from his desk and wandered out into the hallway.
“Hello?” called the voice again.
“Clara,” said another voice, this one deeper, a male voice. “It’s obvious no one’s here. I told you that we shouldn’t come so late.”
“Well, why was the door unlocked, then?” replied the first voice.
Now Iain could see the owners of the voices, by virtue of the way all the walls in the place were constructed of glass. It was a man and w
oman, older, and they were walking along the opposite side of the conference room. Iain wondered if he could hide somewhere and hope they went away. He was going to have to confront them and ask them to leave, and he really didn’t like confrontation. It was another of his weaknesses, somewhat of an irony as well, considering he was a police officer and he had to confront people all the time.
Iain had done a stint as a traffic cop, pulling over speeders, and it had been utter misery for him. He would let people go all the time without pulling them over, even if they had been speeding, because he simply didn’t want to have to deal with talking to the people. People who’d been pulled over were often hostile, and Iain hated it. Their hostility seemed to rob him of his ability to put words together. He’d fumble over what he was trying to say and look like a complete idiot.
Eventually, he’d written himself a bit of a script. He practiced it and rarely deviated from it. Hi there, do you know why I pulled you over? This was a way to get the person to admit guilt and possibly defuse the hostility a bit. You were going XX over the speed limit. There’s a ticket for that. He didn’t say that he was going to write them a ticket, but made the ticket into a vague inevitability, something out of both of their hands.
Remembered the script, he squared his shoulders and went out to confront the people who were in the office. “Hi there,” he said. “The door is this way. Do you know why I’m showing you the way out?”
“Oh, hello!” said the woman. Clara, he remembered. “There is someone here.”
“Clara, he wants us to leave.”
“Are you a member of the Conviction Review Unit?” said Clara.
“Clara,” sighed the man.
She glared at him. “Shush now, Adam.” Back to Iain. “Are you?”
“Listen, it’s after hours,” said Iain, who was already starting to feel flustered.
The woman touched her chest. “I’m Clara Greene. I’m Kevin’s mother.” She grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him close. “This is Kevin’s father, Adam. Kevin told us you’re looking into his case.”
Iain rubbed his forehead. “We do have it under review, yes. But as I said, it’s after hours. The door shouldn’t have been unlocked. I—”
“Oh, we’re just here because we’re pleased, and we want to say thank you.” Clara’s voice suddenly started to shake. “You can’t imagine what it’s been like all these years. Kevin is our only child. Our one and only. A long time ago, I thought maybe he’d be married by now, maybe there would be grandchildren, that sort of thing. Now, all I care about is getting my baby out of that awful place.”
“Clara,” said Adam quietly.
Iain didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was feeling nervous, the way he did when people started to get emotional. He knew there was some way he was supposed to react, but he wasn’t sure what it was. There were so many ridiculous rules, and they weren’t intuitive. If he could only get them straight in his head. How was it that he was supposed to respond to this? Apologies? Should he apologize, even though none of it was his fault? “I’m so very sorry, Mrs. Greene.”
She smiled sadly. “Thank you.”
Adam put his arm around his wife. “We’ve done all we can for him. We’ve sunk all our savings into paying for lawyers, trying to get his case reviewed. He’s innocent. We’ve always known that.”
“He wouldn’t have killed anyone, let alone Saanvi’s parents. There was no reason to,” said Clara.
“Listen, if he really is innocent, we’ll find that out,” said Iain. “That’s our job, after all. We overturn wrongful convictions.”
“If he’s innocent?” said Clara. “You don’t think he is? I’m telling you, there is no way on God’s green earth that my son could have done this thing.”
Now Iain felt even more flustered. “I… I don’t have conclusive evidence yet, but I’m working on getting it. Once we have something concrete, then we’ll be able to know the facts of the case.”
“What do you mean concrete?” said Clara.
“He must be talking about the samples they took from the scene,” said Adam. “You’re getting those tested for DNA, aren’t you? I told them that if there was DNA that didn’t match the two of them it would mean someone else had been in the apartment, but the lawyer said it wouldn’t make any difference, that DNA was irrelevant, because there was no doubt the two of them had spent so much time in the house.” His face was getting red.
Iain swallowed. Elke had indicated to him that he shouldn’t give too much away about the ongoing investigation, that Kevin and Saanvi were still very much suspects. He needed to keep it vague with Kevin’s parents. “There are many things we’re doing to look into the case, but I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to discuss them at this point.”
“Do you have any children?” said Clara.
Iain shook his head. “No, I’m afraid not.” He couldn’t imagine himself with kids. He’d be the world’s worst father. Children were needy, and he wasn’t good at being there for people. Just ask the women he’d attempted to date and disappointed over the years.
“Well, if you did, you’d understand,” said Clara.
“Maybe,” said Iain. “But not really. I’ve never been in your actual situation. I could only imagine it, and I’d probably imagine it wrong.”
Clara furrowed her brow.
Damn it, that was exactly the kind of thing that Iain wasn’t supposed to say. It was true, what he’d said, but that didn’t matter. When he said true things, it made people react strangely. “Sorry,” said Iain. “When I do imagine it, I think it must be awful. I know that parents love their children more than life.”
“Yes.” Clara nodded, giving him a watery smile.
Okay, there. That was better, then. He licked his lips. What should he do now? Promise them it would all turn out all right and usher them out of the door? But he couldn’t promise that. “Listen, I don’t know if this is the kind of thing I really should say, but I have to be honest. I don’t know how our investigation will turn out. I can promise you that I am devoted to finding the truth. I can also tell you that I think it’s unlikely your son is guilty. I believe we will find evidence that exonerates him. But I can’t be sure of that, so I can’t tell you that I’m going to make things all right for you.”
Clara sniffed. “No, I know that.” She nodded. “Thank you for being honest. If you really do look for the truth, then I think it will all come out right in the end, though.”
“I will,” said Iain.
“A lot of the other law enforcement officers we’ve worked with have been looking for the easiest, tidiest way to close the case,” said Adam. “Not the truth.”
“I’ve noticed that,” said Iain, making a face. “It frustrates me as well.”
And then both of them beamed at him in a way that made him feel even more uncomfortable. He probably should have defended his fellow police officers. He knew that was expected of him. But the truth was, he was often frustrated by them. He often felt like he was the only person trying to do things right, really right, and he was appalled at the laziness and sheer ignorance of those around him. But, to be fair, that wasn’t just with police officers, that was with everyone. He didn’t understand other people, and other people didn’t understand him either. Often, they called him things like a human robot or a living machine.
“Thank you,” said Clara.
“Thank you,” said Adam.
“It really is after hours,” said Iain. “I’ve got to escort you to the door.”
“All right,” said Adam. He tightened his grip on his wife’s shoulders and steered her back in the direction they came.
It took a while to get them out of there. They kept thanking him and telling him how pleased they were that Kevin’s case was under review. But finally, he got them out the door and he locked it after them.
Feeling relieved, he stalked back through the hallway to his office. He hesitated at the door. It was late. Maybe he should just go home.
&nbs
p; But there wasn’t anything at home. His apartment was empty. No one was counting on him. He didn’t have a dog or a cat. He didn’t even have a fish. When he’d been in college, he had a pet snake, a ball python. He mostly had it because it was a weird pet to have, and back then, he felt he needed to cement his weirdness in some tangible way. It made it easier to deal with somehow.
But he’d accidentally killed the snake. He’d unplugged its heater to clean its aquarium and forgotten to plug it back in.
The guilt of that incident haunted him to this day. No more pets for him. Not even snakes, which were relatively easy to care for. He wasn’t capable of that kind of responsibility. Iain was aware of his limitations, and he accepted them. So he did his best to avoid being in situations where he knew he was going to fail. It wasn’t always possible, of course. Take that interaction with Kevin Greene’s parents. That hadn’t been anything to be proud of, but he’d gotten through it as best as he could.
He sat back down at his desk, rubbed his temples, and looked back down at the files he’d been going through.
The words swam in front of him.
He found most of the case a bit bewildering. The detective work wasn’t good, in his opinion. Almost everything seemed to have come from the fact that the police were bothered by the accused’s walking past the crime scene without seeing it. They thought that didn’t add up and they built everything else around it, including fabricating a motive for Saanvi and Kevin that seemed patently untrue.
Now, Iain didn’t put much stock in motives. People were inscrutable. Who really knew why anyone did anything? Hell, he wasn’t sure if most people entirely understood why they did things themselves. Iain himself found himself inexplicably compelled to do certain things, and he couldn’t explain why that was. He didn’t know why he was drawn to being a police detective, but he couldn’t help be completely engrossed by murder cases. He found solving them gratifying.
No, it was more than that. An unsolved case was an itch at the back of his head, and it wouldn’t go away until he had unraveled it, uncovered all the clues, and gotten it solved. An unsolved case was a mess. A solved one was tidy.