A Cop's Honor
Page 11
“Let the guys do this. We deal with scum every day. The treehouse gives everyone a common purpose, makes them feel good.”
She averted her face and blinked away the tears he saw pooling. She was still angry. The stiffness of her spine gave that away. He braced himself. Living with his sisters had taught him that when a woman was angry enough to cry you had real trouble on your hands. But then she huffed out a breath and nodded.
“Okay. But this is the end of it. You understand?” She poked his chest. The impact hit his sternum like a flaming arrow. “I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case. I will paint my own shutters, trim my own shrubs and buy my kids their basketball goals and bicycles.”
She hadn’t missed much. “I’ll relay the message. No more help. At least, not without asking first.”
“No. Just no more help. Period.”
Mason peered around her shoulder. “Wing night?”
“You bet. Feel like you could eat a couple dozen?”
“Yes, sir!”
Hannah stepped aside. “Have him back before 8:00.”
“I will. Let’s go, bud. Wings are waiting.”
Mason hustled toward the truck, piled in and buckled up. “The rope is cool. We have one like it in the gym.”
“Can you climb it?”
“Not yet. But I will.”
Brandon laughed at his determination and drove toward the restaurant. “Now you sound like your dad.”
Mason rolled his eyes.
“Hey, how was the trip to your grandparents’?”
“Horrible. All they do is nag. Sit up straight. Don’t talk with your mouth full. Get a haircut. Speak up. Be quiet. And they upset Mom. She keeps her lips mashed together, like she’s biting her tongue or something, the whole weekend. She hates going, too, but she’ll never admit it. They don’t like us. And I don’t like them. They’re mean. I don’t know why she makes us go.”
“It’s not you, Mason. The Leiths have always been difficult people. That’s one of the reasons your dad spent so much time at my house. And they didn’t like that, either. But your mom makes you go because she wants you to know your grandparents. Family is important.”
“Yeah, well, the only good part is that Grandfather has a neat train set in the basement. Sometimes he lets me play with it. As long as I don’t touch anything except the switch.”
“Your dad had a train set.”
Mason shot him an end-of-his-rope look. Brandon changed the subject before the kid shut down. “What about your mom’s father? Do you visit him?”
“We almost never see him except on video chats. When he calls on the regular phone I can tell from Mom’s side of the conversation that he wants her to send me away to a military academy. I heard him offer to pay for it once. But she said no.”
“Do you want to go to a boarding school?”
“No way! I need to stay here and take care of Mom.”
“That’s admirable of you. I want to help, too. I promised your dad I would.”
“You heard her. She doesn’t like help.”
“Yeah. But this was a deal between me and your dad.” Brandon drove in silence, then said to himself, to hell with it. He had to help even if it was against Hannah’s wishes. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I’m ten.”
Was that a yes or a no? “Just askin’ because if you have questions about sex—”
Mason’s face turned red. “I don’t!”
“Okay. But I know how hard it is for a guy to talk to his mom about sex, so I’m offering. If there’s anything you need to know, just ask.”
“Jeez,” Mason muttered under his breath. “Can you turn on the radio or something?”
“We’re almost there. Is your dad’s dartboard still hanging in the garage?”
Mason nodded cautiously. “Why?”
He ignored the evasion. “You ever play with it?”
Mason shifted in his seat and looked out the window. “Mom says I’m not supposed to.”
More evasion. “But you do?”
A shrug lifted his narrow shoulders. “Sometimes I get bored. And yeah, I do.” His chin and tone reeked defiance.
“Are you any good?”
Eyes, narrowed with suspicion, swung Brandon’s way. “Maybe. Why?”
“They have dartboards at the restaurant.” The building came into view. Brandon noted the guys’ vehicles were already in the parking lot. Would Mason get nervous and be sick again when he met them? There was only one way to find out. “I was going to test your skills. Your dad was a great dart player.”
Mason groaned. “Do you ever let up?”
“Not when something’s important. And it bothers me that you don’t remember him.” He parked the truck and shoved his keys into his pocket.
The plan was to get Mason to relax around the team. Once they’d eaten and played a few rounds of darts each member would share his favorite story about cases they’d worked with Rick. Brandon hoped in the process Mason would learn what a great guy his father had been and how valuable he’d been to stamping out cybercrime. It would be a bonus if Brandon picked up clues to Mason’s recent behavior problems.
“How did you find this place? It’s a dump.”
“It’s not much to look at, but it’s clean inside and they have the best wings in the county. My buddies and I meet here on Wednesdays.”
Mason’s eagerness turned to wariness. “Your buddies?”
“Yeah. You’ll like them. We have dart matches. Two teams of three. One of the guys couldn’t make it tonight. You’re taking his place. First team to five hundred points wins. Losers pick up the tab.”
Mason’s brow puckered. The leather seat squeaked as he squirmed. “I don’t have any money.”
“I’ll cover you.”
Silence stretched in the cab. “Are they cops?”
Brandon noted Mason’s stiff posture. “They’re the guys who bought the slide and climbing rope.”
“Are they cops?” Mason repeated.
He wouldn’t lie. “Yes.”
Fear flashed in Mason’s eyes. “I don’t want to play darts or meet your stupid friends.”
“You have nothing to be afraid of. They’re good guys and they were friends of your dad’s. Let’s go.”
“I want to go home.”
“I can’t take you home. Your mom’s not there.”
“Then take me to the dance place. I’d rather be stuck there watching a bunch of bed-wetters than eat with old geezers who live in the past.”
Ouch. “It’s just wings and darts and friends, Mason.”
“Your friends. Not mine. I’m not going in there.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. Let me out. I’ll walk home.” He yanked on the door handle, but it was locked by the control on Brandon’s side.
“You can’t. It’s ten miles. And we have to eat.”
Mason’s face took on a mutinous set. “You eat with your dumb old friends. I’ll make a sandwich when I get home. I’m not a baby. I can feed myself.”
The kid had shut down. “I know you can. But believe it or not, I actually enjoy your company.”
“Well, I don’t like yours. You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I told you we were going to get wings.”
“Unlock the door now. I’m outta here and neither you nor your friends will find me.” More frantic jerks on the handle accompanied his words. Brandon could feel Mason’s panic rising.
Shit. “You don’t want to do that. Running away is a punishable offense in South Carolina. Not only would that bring in cops, you’d have social services and a busload of other officials up in your business. Do you want that?”
Mason stilled, his eyes becoming more fearful. He gulped. Brandon was going to lose any chance of helping
the kid if he didn’t retreat. He’d have to abort the mission. But he couldn’t take Mason to Hannah and let her see how much he’d upset her boy. She’d never let him near her children again.
“If you don’t want to meet the team, we’ll go someplace else.”
“Right, and you’ll text ’em and tell ’em to ambush me there.”
“No. I won’t. Let’s hit the burger place that has the good milkshakes.”
“You’re bribing me with ice cream? How dumb do you think I am?”
“Not dumb at all. But we both need dinner. You choose the restaurant. Afterward, I’ll take you home. No tricks. But you have to swear not to run. Deal?”
Mason mulled that over a full minute. “Yeah. Whatever.”
Brandon might be able to regain Mason’s trust, but he wasn’t willing to bet money on the odds of that happening tonight.
Chapter Eight
“NO MASON AGAIN?” Lucy asked as soon as Belle and Celia left the parents’ waiting room for the studio.
“No.”
“The sexy cop have him?”
“Brandon took him out for dinner.” She refused to acknowledge the description.
“That’s three Wednesdays in a row he’s had him. This is becoming a habit. Is he going to start leaving his razor at your place?”
Hannah pressed her lips together in frustration. First Belle, now Lucy. “There’s nothing like that between us. And there never will be.”
“Then why do you get red and flustered when his name comes up?”
“I don’t.”
Lucy’s eyebrows lifted.
Was she so transparent? Dear heaven, did Brandon know he’d resurrected her hormones? Her face burned hotter, making Lucy chuckle. “I hate having to rely on him when he’s the reason Rick’s not here.”
“Girl, please, be honest. You hate having to rely on anyone. You even give me a hard time when I try to help. But it’s okay to need someone sometimes.”
Hannah sighed. She’d relied on her mother and she’d vanished. Then she’d relied on Rick and he’d died. She’d learned the hard way that the only person she could count on was herself.
“Thank you, Dr. Freud. Brandon keeps pushing to search my computer. But you know how careful I am. I can’t have Mason thinking I don’t trust him.”
“If Brandon’s really bothering you then tell him to get lost.”
“I would if not for...”
“If not for what?”
“Mason has been so good since Brandon came on the scene. No trouble at school. No sneaking out. No foul language. I was starting to hope the tough times were over. Then last night when I knocked on his door I heard him scrambling around before he told me to come in. He was sitting in the bed looking all wide-eyed and innocent, but he was breathing heavy from racing around or whatever.”
“At his age he was probably masturbating.”
Hannah winced then groaned. “I hadn’t considered that.”
“Remember, I had brothers. I know these things.” Lucy smiled smugly.
“Whatever he was doing, it was something he didn’t want me to see.”
“Did you ask?”
That seemed like common sense. And for anyone else it probably was. “I don’t want him to think I was spying.”
Lucky palmed her forehead. “Now I get it. Mason’s behavior is resurrecting your mom issues. But Hannah, just because she ran off doesn’t mean Mason will.”
Lucy was the only one Hannah had ever told about her mom. Not even Rick had known the whole story. “I can’t risk it.”
“He’s a kid. Monitoring what he does is not the same as what your dad did to you and your mom.”
“I don’t see how it’s different. Establishing and nurturing trust is important.”
Other parents filed into the bleachers. Hannah and Lucy watched the girls do their warm-up exercises in silence for a few moments. “You never heard from her? Your mom, I mean.”
“No. I don’t even know if she’s alive or dead.” But she’d wondered. She’d even questioned whether her father—No. Her father had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance. He couldn’t have. She’d never seen him be violent in any way.
“That sucks. I mean, what a shitty thing to do to a kid,” Lucy whispered.
“Oh, look. The girls are learning to jeté!”
Lucy’s level-eyed look said she wasn’t fooled by Hannah’s attempt at diversion, but dissecting her abandonment issues wasn’t on the calendar tonight. Luckily, the adorable chaos on the dance floor took precedence.
Hannah exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension from her body. Talking about her mother always tied her in knots. Where had she gone and why?
But she was not her mother or her father. She would never abandon or betray her children. All she had to do was figure out why Mason was misbehaving, then get rid of Brandon and get on with her life.
* * *
MASON CHARGED PAST Hannah without acknowledging her holding the front door open for him. Dumbfounded, she stared after him stomping up the stairs. His bedroom door slammed shut. Her son was clearly upset.
She turned to the man following him more slowly up the sidewalk. Brandon’s carefully neutral expression told her the evening had not gone well. Her protective instincts rose. “What happened?”
“He didn’t want to meet the guys.”
“The guys?”
“The team meets at the wing place on Wednesdays.”
“And you’re surprised Mason objected after I told you he didn’t want to meet them?”
“You said he didn’t want to go to the office.” Looking decidedly uncomfortable, Brandon shoved a hand through his hair.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“He threatened to run away if I tried to force him to go inside the restaurant.”
Panic nipped at her heels. “It’s almost eight. If he refused to eat with you then where have you been for the past two hours?”
“I convinced him to grab a bite elsewhere then took him bowling. I wanted to give him time to calm down, maybe vent his frustration on the ball. It didn’t work as well as I’d hoped.”
“So you learned nothing about the origin of his behavior?”
“Nothing except he’s avoiding cops.”
Her stomach churned. “Not necessarily.”
“Hannah, last week the idea of meeting the team made him vomit, then today he threatened to run away to avoid time with them. What does that tell you? Something’s going on and he doesn’t want law enforcement around. And it isn’t that he doesn’t want to spend time with boring old geezers. If you’d just let me talk to him—”
“No. I’ve told you before. You’re not interrogating him like he’s a criminal. I know your pit bull tactics. Rick used to be in awe of them. There’s no way Mason’s involved in something illegal. I’d know. I watch him too closely.”
“Do you know how rich I’d be if I had a dollar for every parent who told me their kid would never break the law?”
She opened her mouth to reply, but he held up a hand.
“That was a rhetorical question. All I wanted tonight was for Mason to hear that his father was a genuinely good guy who was well-liked and respected by all who knew him. The guys were going to tell Mason stories about working with Rick, stories that demonstrated his loyalty, his courage, his ingenuity, his quirky habits and his dedication to his family. That boy needs to know his father would never have left him willingly.”
Coming on the heels of her conversation with Lucy, the last phrase hit home. Hannah had faced that uncertainty after her mother left. More than once she’d wondered if she had done something to drive her mom away. Hannah’s father had refused to discuss his wife’s disappearance. She’d never coupled it to Mason and his father. Did her son have abandonment issues?
But Brandon’s impassioned speech also revealed how much he’d missed Rick. She’d been so lost in her own grief that she hadn’t considered his.
She’d never asked him the exact details of what happened that day, and he’d never volunteered an explanation. He might have if she’d answered his calls before the funeral. But she hadn’t wanted to hear his excuses for failing to protect his partner, the man he’d referred to as “his brother from another mother.” All she had was the formal investigative report that stated Brandon had been in another part of the house when the perp had dropped from his place of concealment in the attic and taken Rick’s life. It said that when Brandon had encountered the murderer he’d discharged his weapon, firing a single fatal shot. But he’d been too late to save Rick.
She’d been furious with Brandon and then SLED when Brandon hadn’t been charged, fired or even demoted for his negligence, and she’d cut all ties with both. She’d blamed the good ol’ boy network because they’d obviously valued Brandon’s skill in always getting a confession over Rick’s life and his less flashy behind-the-scenes computer forensics work.
Now, years later, she realized her thinking was eerily in line with her mother-in-law’s venomous, irrational rants. Suddenly, she had a burning desire to know what had transpired.
“What happened that day?”
He stilled, like prey in a predator’s sight. The change in him, specifically in his eyes, was so subtle that if she hadn’t been looking directly at him she would have missed it. Guarded was the only way she could think of to describe it. “You were given a copy of the report.”
At least he didn’t pretend he didn’t know to which day she referred. “I need to hear it in your words.”
He looked toward the kitchen. “Belle—”
“Is watching her favorite movie in the den. She won’t resurface for another thirty minutes. What happened, Brandon? If you loved Rick so much, how did you fail to watch his back?”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His fists clenched by his sides then released, then his chest rose and fell. His eyes remained open, but it was as if he was no longer seeing her or even the here and now.
“The house had been cleared. We—Rick and I—were about to begin gathering the evidence when a call came in reporting that the perp had been spotted at another location. He was armed and dangerous and a threat to society. The rest of the team went searching for him. Rick and I split up to get our job done faster.”