Crocus

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Crocus Page 5

by Amy Lane


  Larx nodded. He knew. Olivia used to say that her life was incomplete and she’d never graduate college because she hadn’t run the gauntlet of being a fast-food maven, but until she’d shown up on his doorstep Saturday, he really hadn’t thought that was true.

  “Okay. Tell you what. Give me a day, maybe two, and we’ll see what we can scare up for a couple of tenderfoots who don’t know snow, okay?” Jaime smiled gamely, and Larx felt compelled to add, “And I’ll ask around town for a job.” And before the boy could open his mouth to say thank you, Larx finished with, “And my daughter just ran screaming back home, but once we get her settled and okay, I’ll see about having you and Berto over for dinner. It’ll be crowded and nobody in the house can cook, but the dog loves company.”

  And that did it. Jaime’s expression melted. “The dog?” he asked hesitantly. “You have a dog?”

  And so did Larx’s heart. “Yeah. A dog. We’ll try to move Olivia this weekend. Dozer would love another friend to play.”

  And then he remembered what he was there for. “Oh! And about Candace?”

  Jaime’s whole body seemed to shrink. “Yeah?”

  Larx thought about it carefully. “Jaime, domestic disputes are scary things, even for the police. So, call them—but call them secretly if you can. You seem like a good kid, and I bet your brother is one too. But… but there’s probably more guns per household here in the country than there was in the city, you know what I mean?”

  Jaime loosened a little and sobered. “You mean don’t let nobody see I’m the one calling the cops, and maybe don’t tell anybody at school either.”

  “Yeah. Are you the only neighbor?”

  Jaime shook his head. “No—we’re not even the closest one. She just happened to come out our way, I think. I don’t think it was for me—she doesn’t even talk to me in school.”

  Larx nodded. “Okay. So by all means call the police if you need to, if you hear anything. They’re not going to give Berto a hard time—at least Deputy George won’t, and if you get someone who does, call me—and I am more worried about the danger to you than anything else, okay? Untrained personnel get hurt in these situations. Call in the professionals and keep your head down.” Trained personnel got hurt in these situations too, but Larx wasn’t going to stress over that in front of this kid.

  Jaime seemed to ponder Larx’s advice for a minute. “I can call you?” he asked suddenly. “When things get weird?”

  Larx nodded and wrote his number on a Post-it. “Don’t go spreading that around,” he said, although there were probably forty kids who had that number. “And my daughter texts me about twelve thousand times a day, so if you could maybe….” He winced.

  “Not be part of that noise? No, I get it. Not so much emergencies only, but… uh… concerns. Like, right before Christmas our power went off, and Berto had to walk into town to find someone who could tell us how to fix it, because we didn’t know anybody’s number. So this way I got your number, and you could help us out.”

  Killing him. This kid was killing him.

  “Yeah. Sure. Like that. Do that for me. My family would be happy to give you a better welcome to the neighborhood.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Larkin. Like, thank you. You’re the best. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you—wash your car, walk your dog—anything.”

  This kid was in three different clubs already. He was dying for a chance to belong here.

  “Keep your grades up,” Larx said softly. “And there’s scholarship workshops for sophomores and juniors on Saturdays, starting in March. Show up for them—even if it’s just junior college, they can help you get a start when you graduate. Deal?”

  Jaime nodded, and Larx shook his hand. “And if anybody asks, that’s what the principal wanted to talk to you about. Scholarship Saturdays. There will be posters up with times and rooms and stuff. Okay?”

  Oh yeah. That grin was what teacher’s dreams were made of.

  “Sure, Mr. Larkin. It was a great talk. You totally sold me!”

  Larx opened the door and ushered him out. “That’s good to hear. Come to my science room before class, or see me in the parking lot after school. I should have some gear for you tomorrow.”

  “Deal!”

  Jaime bounded out, so full of hope and promise Larx almost couldn’t bear it. He and Yoshi needed to talk about Candace, because Jaime’s report was frightening, but Jaime—damn. Larx carried that conversation close to his heart for the next hour, smiling, humming to himself as he did paperwork. Most teachers went into education hoping they could make a difference—and it was hard work. Shoes and a scholarship program rec were such easy things. Not that Jaime’s life was easy—not by a long shot. But Larx had things in his arsenal to make his life better, and that felt damned good.

  So he was very satisfied with himself, right up until Yoshi walked in, looking like death, and turned around and closed the door behind him.

  “Oh God,” Larx muttered.

  “Did you have a good conversation? You look very pleased with yourself. I bet you had an amazing conversation, didn’t you?”

  “It was peachy,” Larx said, eyes on Yoshi like a snake’s on a hawk. “So amazing. It lifted me up where I belong.”

  “Are you feeding that kid yet? Clothing him? C’mon. You can admit it, Larx. You’re practically a breast. You’re probably a barn-raising away from getting him a brand-new home and a new car. Tell me. Tell me now. I need to have something good in my life.”

  “Uh, your boyfriend’s giving this kid’s brother rides to town in the morning?”

  Yoshi nodded. “Unexpected, but not a complete surprise. Tane does things like that. He’d be just like you, except he scares people and likes it that way. So that’s interesting. When’s this kid coming over for dinner?”

  “Next weekend. Why do you have that kill-things expression on your face? Was there something that Hello Kitty won’t fix?”

  Yoshi collapsed into the chair Jaime had occupied not an hour before. “So bad, Larx. So… so bad. That situation in Candace’s house… so, so bad….”

  Larx took a deep breath and girded his loins.

  Ah. So Jaime had been a decoy. Life’s real curveball had been thrown at Yoshi, and it had knocked him on his ass.

  DRIFTS

  AARON LISTENED to Larx on speakerphone as he made his usual patrol rounds, but Larx was—for once—skirting uncomfortably around the point. Whatever had gone on with Candace, it was a big deal, but Larx wasn’t getting to it.

  “So, Yoshi is pretty sure the girl is being abused,” Aaron clarified, “but he’s not sure how—”

  “He’s pretty sure how,” Larx corrected, “but he’s got no proof. We’re going to have to ask the school psychologist to talk to her to see if she’ll confess to anything.”

  Aaron made a confirmation noise, his stomach balling up unhappily at what Larx was implying. Right before he could ask the hard question, he rounded the curve of the highway before Olsen Road and remembered his first move on Larx that October, when he’d stopped to beg his son’s favorite principal not to risk death by running on the side of the road.

  For a moment—just a second—he missed the joy he used to feel when he knew Larx might be running alongside the road.

  He was brought to the present with a thump when he saw the young man in jeans and a hooded San Diego sweatshirt sliding along the icy shoulder. The poor guy had no gloves, no scarf, and tennis shoes, and he looked thoroughly out of his depth.

  “Hold off, Larx. I’ll get back to you. We might have a stranded tourist or something.”

  “Drive safe.”

  “See you at home.”

  Aaron stopped slowly and rolled down the passenger window. Unlike Larx, who’d been most adamantly not in search of help on this road, this guy looked like he needed a friend.

  “Hey there,” he called, trying not to sound too cop-like. “Can I give you a ride somewhere? Did you leave a car behind you?”

  The ki
d looked frightened for a moment, although he was most definitely out of high school. “I did. I, uh, left my car in a snowbank. By a tree. I, uh… don’t have chains. I….” He swallowed and for a moment looked ready to cry. “I don’t know how to get chains. And I have no idea where I am. All I know is that GPS said there’s a high school on this road and it looks like it might be a school for bears, because this place is, like, wild fucking kingdom!”

  Aaron chuckled kindly. “I’m sure it looks that way to someone from San Diego.” He put the SUV in park and leaned over to open the door. “Would you like a ride to town? I know the tow place—they can get your car out of the snowbank and probably find a place to put you up for the night while they fix it.”

  The kid gave a shaky nod. “Is that okay? You don’t have to put me in the back, do you? Because I hate these roads. I really fucking hate them. And I don’t want to be trapped in the back of your cop-mobile when you start sliding around on them.”

  Wow. This kid could make coffee nervous. “The front’s fine,” Aaron said, nodding slowly. “Let me see your hands for a minute. Now pull up your sweatshirt and turn around. Just checking, okay?”

  The kid did the dance on the side of the road, his boxers pulled up past the waistband of his sagging jeans, but other than that, harboring no deep dark secrets and no weapons.

  “Fair enough,” Aaron said. “Hop in.”

  He’d cranked up the heater before the kid had even slammed the door shut.

  On closer inspection this kid didn’t look bad—he had hipster’s scruff and streaky dark hair past his ears and over his forehead, but he also had big blue eyes that seemed to be widened in a perpetual state of shock.

  “So, I’m Sheriff George—pleased to meet you.” Aaron put the SUV into gear and stepped gently on the gas, the snow tires digging in deep and the chains digging in deeper so the car gave a gentle acceleration over the slippery road.

  “I’m Elton,” the kid said. “Elton McDaniels. Thanks so much for stopping.”

  “I take it your car is up a little ahead?” Aaron scanned the road in front of him, but snow had come in during the afternoon and gotten thicker since. Belatedly Aaron wondered if the tow truck could even get the thing out before dark fell.

  “Yeah. I… I sort of panicked. I knew the high school was ahead of me, but I saw the road and thought, ‘This is it! This is my last chance to turn back!’ and while I was deciding, the car decided for me.”

  Aaron bit his lip so he didn’t smile. “Well, cars will do that,” he said diplomatically. “Why would you want to turn back?”

  “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” the kid said wretchedly. “I… there was this girl.” He covered his face with his hands. “This is so dumb. So dumb—”

  “Oh shit,” Aaron muttered. “Talk about dumb. Kid, this is your car?”

  The kid nodded and scratched the back of his bare head. “It’s, uh, not in great shape.”

  “Kid, are you okay?” Aaron pulled to a halt and looked at the car in dismay. A Datsun B-210—from way back in the day, before electronic everything—was wrapped around one of the bigger pine trees off Olson Road.

  “My neck’s a little sore,” Elton confessed. “And I’ve got a seat-belt bruise. And my stomach’s bruised. And I’ve got a headache.” He fingered his forehead, and once he pushed his hair back, Aaron could see a bruise forming. “And….” His voice grew a little wobbly. “I still don’t know where in the fuck I am.”

  “Oh Jesus.” Aaron closed his eyes and tried hard not to freak out on this kid like a parent. If this was Kirby’s car, he’d be losing his shit. “Okay, Elton. We’ve got a small hospital about half an hour away. I’m going to call in and take you there, okay? Then I’ll call the tow-truck place, but the snow is getting sort of thick, and they might not be able to get to your car until tomorrow, and maybe not until the day after that if tomorrow’s as bad as the weather prediction. Do you have someone you could call?”

  The kid made a sound perilously close to a whimper. “No. My folks don’t know I’m here. I left school, you see? I… I know it’s stupid. She’s totally an adult, and it was only one night, but I thought we had something, right?” Elton rubbed his stomach and closed his eyes. “But she wouldn’t talk to me afterward, and I thought I’d connect with her again after Christmas, but she just up and left school.”

  Aaron’s head started to pound. “Elton, what were you doing, looking for the high school again?”

  “The only things—and I mean the only things—I know about this girl is that she’s from this tiny town and has a sister. And her dad works at the school.” He blinked. “And her cat died right before she came to the party where we hooked up.”

  Welp.

  Aaron let out a sigh. “Okay, Elton. Let’s get you to the hospital, and I’ll see if we can get someone to come sit with you while they’re doing the tests.”

  “Why would you do that?” Elton asked, but he sounded too close to real tears for Aaron to take exception.

  “Because being in the hospital sucks, kid, and it’s worse when you’re alone. Now here, let me call in.”

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later, Aaron excused himself from Elton’s bedside where he was being held for observation and debated. On the one hand, he should call Larx.

  He should really call Larx.

  But on the other hand, Larx wasn’t the one who’d had the one-night stand and gotten knocked up either.

  Debate, debate, debate….

  “Olivia?”

  “Hi, Aaron.” She sounded drowsy, like she’d been napping. “What’s up? Is my dad okay?” Her voice sharpened. “Is he hurt again?”

  Larx had been the one to get grazed by a bullet that fall, but apparently they were all carrying scars.

  “No, hon. But someone else you know is in the hospital for observation, and he’s alone, and he’s scared, and he apparently drove for fourteen hours to get from San Diego to here, only to crash his car on Olson Road.”

  “Oh no,” she said, her voice small.

  “Oh yes. Olivia, unless you tell me—right now—that this kid has done something to harm you, something to harass you, something to make what’s going on in your life miserable, I’m going to have to ask you to put your grown-up pants on and get over here. Your dad can drive you if he needs to, but this kid’s had a hell of a day, and he could really use a friendly face.”

  When she spoke next, he could hear the tears in her voice, and for a moment he was afraid. Larx, who was so good at facing his responsibilities, at doing the grown-up thing when it was called for, had been so proud of his daughters owning up to their own lives.

  If Aaron had to tell him Olivia chickened out here, it would kill him.

  “Christi just got home,” she said softly. “I’ll be there in an hour. Is he okay?”

  “He’s got a mild concussion and some bruising. They need to make sure nothing’s internal.” Aaron tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “They weren’t sure he was coherent, but I’m thinking he’s just sort of naturally that way.”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, and he heard the echo of the happy, pretty girl he’d watched grow up in the town where he lived. “Elton’s sort of got the mind of a poet, and he doesn’t have a filter for it. He’s really smart, but his teachers are always sort of surprised.”

  “Well, he surprised the heck out of me,” Aaron said shortly. “It sounds as though you like this boy.”

  “I didn’t want to….” Her voice choked. “I was on the pill, Aaron. This wasn’t his fault.”

  Aaron closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked nervously.

  “I’m trying not to speak like your father,” he muttered.

  To his shock—his utter shock—she laughed. “Oh give it the fuck up, Sheriff George,” she said. “That’s one of the things you and my dad have in common. It will kill you not to try to parent me. I dare you.”

  Aaron glared at the white wall of the
corridor. “I can’t now. You sound too much like your father. I’ll leave it for him to do.”

  “You haven’t told him, have you?” she asked, the horror in her voice telling him everything he needed to know about what a close call he’d almost had.

  “Are you going to?”

  He heard defeat in her sigh. “Yeah. Yeah. Let me come out, talk to Elton. Explain that it’s not his fault, any of it. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No,” Aaron murmured. “No, he didn’t. But I think he’ll be happy to hear it from you. I mean… fourteen hours, Olivia. He drove in the snow. I don’t even think he knows what snow is.”

  “I’ll be there,” she promised. “Give me an hour. I….” He heard her grunt, like this had just occurred to her. “I should shower and dry my hair.”

  “Understood. I’ll be here until you get here,” he told her. “Maybe grab a sandwich on your way out of the house.”

  “I’ll make one for Elton too,” she said. “He doesn’t like institutional food. Conformity freaks him out.”

  Aaron crossed his eyes. “Of course it does. See you soon.”

  “Yeah. Uh, Aaron?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for calling me. I… my dad thinks I’ve got it all together. Thanks for giving me a chance to tell him… I… I sort of fucked up with Elton.”

  Aaron leaned against the wall, grateful it was the end of his shift. He could sit by Elton’s bed and use his tablet to fill out some of his paperwork.

  “Nobody has their shit together all the time,” Aaron told her gently, meaning it. “I’m surprised your father hasn’t told you that.”

 

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