When the debriefing finished, the team made their goodbyes. Jackson started to slink toward the door.
Griffin called to him. “Hey, wait up.”
“What?” Jackson said pivoting.
He leaned against the counter in the entranceway of the classroom. The smell of burned coffee wafted into his nose. He glanced behind him at the glass carafe, which sat empty on the coffee maker. His eyes slid toward the switch on the side. He eyed it to make sure it had been turned off.
He brought his attention back to Griffin. “What’s up?”
“Want to hear what I learned in the investigation?” Griffin strode toward him and stopped a couple of feet away.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed briefly as he studied the angry set to Griffin’s jaw. “I’m not going to like what I hear, am I?”
Chief Kowalski waddled toward them, interrupting them.
“O’Halloran. Callahan,” he said, nodding, apparently unable to think of anything else to say. He extended his hand for a shake.
Jackson reached out to take his hand. “Chief.”
The chief pulled him close and patted him on the back.
Surprised, Jackson stiffened, and then allowed the hug.
The chief eased back. He did the same thing to Griffin. When he released him, his eyes appeared moist. The skin on his pudgy face drooped as if he’d aged ten years in the last twenty-four hours.
“Such a tragedy,” he said, shaking his gray-haired head.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Griffin said, his shoulders creeping toward his ears. His gaze landed on the chief. “I was just about to fill Jackson in on the investigation. Want to hear?”
“Of course, of course,” Chief Kowalski said.
Griffin sighed. His expression turned grim. “Get this. The kids were apparently afraid of the dark. The parents left a lit candle with the kids and took off for the casino. That’s what they said, anyway. The whole story reeks of lies.” He tapped the side of his nose. “You know I can sniff out the lies. They said good old Uncle Jovantay was supposed to watch them. When I interviewed the parents, they reeked of booze, their eyes were glassy, and their speech slurred. They were legless.”
Chief Kowalski’s eyebrows bunched together. “That fire happened in broad daylight. Why the heck would they need to leave a lit candle for the kids?”
“At any time of the day or night,” Jackson said. His empty stomach began to growl. He’d been in such a funk today, he hadn’t taken the time to eat much.
“Right?” Griffin said. His blue eyes sparked with anger. “And who knows what state they were in when they left the house? And then, get this…I finally found ‘Uncle Jovantay.’” He made air quotes. “The guy was lit to Sunday. Heroin eyes. He lives in a hoarder house littered with drug paraphernalia. He wouldn’t tell me much of anything except he had to run some errands, so he left the kids alone for a while in front of the T.V. Said he tried to return, but the road had fire trucks blocking it.”
“That’s bullshit. We weren’t blocking anything,” Jackson said. “He was lying.”
Just like my brother when I asked him if he’d been with Jovantay…
He rubbed his palm against his abdomen, trying to sweep away the disgust rolling through his belly.
Griffin made eye contact and said, “It seems so, but there was nothing I could do. I assured him we weren’t cops and we weren’t going to turn him in.”
“You reported it, right?” the chief asked him.
“Not sure what can come of it, but, yes. I sent a report to the sheriff and to CPS,” Griffin said. “People have to be held accountable for their actions.”
The word “accountable” landed in Jackson’s stomach like a nail shot out of a nail gun. He chewed the inside of his cheek.
My fucking brother…if he had anything to do with this, anything at all, I’m going to be so pissed. How can I make my brother accountable?
The guys finished up their conversation, said their good-byes, and headed out the door to the parking lot.
As Jackson climbed in his vehicle, he caught movement behind the station.
“What the…?” He squinted.
It looked like a figure huddled back there.
Probably a homeless guy.
The chief and Griffin’s trucks eased out of the lot.
Jackson put his vehicle in reverse and then hesitated. He reached in the glove box for his gun, opened the door, and slid from the truck.
A hoodie-clad male emerged from the shadows. He walked like he was trudging through water.
Jackson gripped the gun by his side. “Can I help you?”
“Jacks, it’s me. Your bro.” Jake pushed back his hood, revealing his gaunt face.
Jackson shook his head, his grip on the gun relaxing a little. “Jesus, Jake, you almost caught a bullet to the head.”
In the dim light, Jake’s face held shadows, making him look far older than his actual age of twenty-nine. “I called your house, but your girlfriend said you weren’t there. She wouldn’t tell me where you were, so I figured to look here.”
“What do you want?” Jackson said, releasing his finger from the trigger.
“You know. I got rent to pay, or I’m going to be evicted. I’ll pay you back, I promise I will.” His pupils appeared like dots, giving him that “heroin eye” appearance.
He’s fucking high as a kite. Blaire’s pained face from their fight about Jake loomed in his mind.
“I’m sorry, Jake. The answer’s no.”
Jake’s jaw dropped. “Oh, come on. You know my life’s been rough. I’m on disability for my mental health. I can’t catch a break. Surely you can spot me a few dollars.”
“Your mental health,” Jackson said, recalling the diagnosis Jake had shared with him a couple of years ago.
“I’ve got a major depressive disorder. That’s what the doc at the free clinic in Seattle told me,” he’d said, a little too enthusiastically.
Jackson’s stomach churned and twisted. He knew a few people in town with mental issues. Most were grateful for anything that could help them find balance in their lives. When Jake had shared his diagnosis, he’d assumed his brother was merely excited to get free drugs.
The veins in his neck pounded like they might bust. He took a breath. Jake is family. He and I took care of one another growing up. I’m still responsible for him. Maybe I can encourage him to get help.
He reached behind him and rubbed the back of his neck.
“I don’t know. We’re a little tight right now,” he said, repeating the words he’d said to Jake over the phone.
Jake shuffled forward, no doubt ready to seal the deal. “I promise I’ll pay you back this time. I’ll be accountable. Cross my heart.”
The word “accountable” slammed its way into Jackson’s skull, along with the too-fresh memory of dead kids and their pets. He shook his head, feeling like an absolute Judas for betraying his brother.
“No, Jake.” The words came out stiff and thick.
“So, you want me to lose my trailer, huh? Is that what you want?” Jake stepped forward and tried to shove Jackson.
Jackson caught his brother’s wrists. “No, Jake, that’s not what I want.”
An impulsive idea formed in his mind.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Jake said, wrenching his arms free. His face reddened. “If you can’t spot me rent money, I’m out. I’ll be like one of those homeless fucks.”
Jackson rubbed his jaw. “I can’t spot you rent. But I will do you one better. We don’t spend time together anymore. What do you say we go camping this summer?”
Jake’s face crumpled. “You’re nuts. Why would I want to go camping?”
“We used to love to go out in the woods together, remember?” Jackson said.
“Kind of…yeah…”
“So, tell you what…Let’s head to the late-night diner and I’ll buy you a meal. I’m starving. While we’re eating, we can plan our trip.” Jackson’s heart began
to pound.
“I guess so,” Jake said. Slack-jawed, he stared at Jackson.
“Good, good,” Jackson said, clapping his brother on the back. “Let’s go. I’ve got a great plan.”
He took a deep breath, hoping he could follow through with his idea—to stage an intervention for his brother. No way could Jake escape if they were in the Sun-a-Do National Forest—or at least that’s what Jackson told himself.
Chapter 6
Two days later, Jackson strode into the living room, restlessly bouncing his keys in his palm. He’d met with that frigging counselor today and danced and dodged the questions he’d been asked. It was an old habit to skirt real issues and withhold information about his “family of origin” and “how that might have affected” his response to the death of the kids and pets.
The kids’ deaths sucked. End of story. There was no point wading through his past.
A growing knot of tension in his stomach fought with his enthusiasm over his “great idea” to stage an intervention with Jake—the idea that he hadn’t told Blaire about yet. He’d been waiting for the right time. Now seemed as good a time as any.
The dogs bombarded him with their usual cheer. He dropped his keys in his pocket, scratched their heads, and told them each what good dogs they were. Then, he took a deep breath to prepare himself for telling Blaire the news.
He found her in the kitchen, dressed in body-hugging workout gear, stirring a fabulous smelling concoction that made his mouth water. Stepping up behind her, he squeezed her shoulders. “Hey, baby.” Then, he dropped his head to her neck and planted a trail of kisses across her tender skin.
“Mmm,” she moaned, leaning into him. She rested the spoon in a ceramic spoon holder which had a cartoon firefighter holding out his hands as if to receive the said tool.
“You’re hot and sweaty. You just work out?” he said into the curve between her damp neck and her shoulder.
“I just got back from a run about ten minutes ago. I prepared this earlier, so made sure to get home in time to get it on the stove before you came home.”
She pressed her back into him, making his cock twitch.
“How’s my hero?” she said, grinding her ass against his growing erection.
“Better now that I’m home,” he said, before kissing the top of her head. “Who needs a counselor when I have you?”
He longed to forget about sharing his idea with her and simply enjoy her, physically. But, his logical mind told him to get this over with so they could move on.
“How are you? Good day?” He turned and leaned against the counter to give his ardor a chance to cool down.
“Sure,” she said, reaching for a jar of spices resting on the stove. She unscrewed the lid and sprinkled it into the stew. “What’s not to like about styling people’s hair? Especially when they’re old and have nasty, crusty oil deposits in their scalps.” She scoffed while placing the lid back on the spices. She set it down with a noisy thwack.
“Yuck. That sounds unpleasant. Is that code-speak for ‘I didn’t have the best day?’”
“Hardly code-speak. But, no, I didn’t have the best day. Somedays I don’t like my job. But, I don’t have anything else to pursue at this moment, and it pays the bills, so…” She shrugged, pivoting to face him. “This has to cook for a bit. Let’s go out to the front room so you can relax.”
“Sounds good,” he said, ignoring his impulse to play a seduction game with her. But, dang, he couldn’t help himself. Everything about her was sweet and scrumptious, begging to be tasted, teased and pleasured. He pushed away from the counter and headed out of the kitchen.
“So,” he said, once he’d rested his backside on the front room sofa.
“So,” she said, snuggling up to him.
“I had this idea,” he began. His stomach clenched.
“Do tell,” she said.
He took a deep breath and huffed it out. “You know how I promised to set some boundaries with Jake, right?”
Her head tilted to the side. “Right,” she said, dragging the word out.
“He and I used to go camping all the time. I thought we could all go camping, and I could stage a sort of intervention in the woods.” There. I said it. He pasted a smile on his face.
Her lips parted, and she stared at him, wide-eyed. Then, she began to blink.
“I thought it a good idea,” he continued, leaning forward slightly. “He and I practically raised one another. We’ve been responsible for one another for a long time. It makes sense. If I get him away from his usual environment, maybe I can talk some sense into him. You know…tough love.”
Her mouth snapped shut. “Isn’t that the parent’s responsibility?”
“Oh, sure,” he said, wishing he hadn’t hinted at his past. “I only meant that he and I were close growing up. He’ll listen to me.”
She moved away from him, scooting to the other end of the sofa. “You’re shitting me, right? You want to go into the woods with your brother and do what, exactly, besides wish you hadn’t done it in the first place?”
A pointed stab of ire pushed its way through his belly. He rose from the sofa and turned to face her, propping his hands on his hips. “Helping him get clean. Letting him know how much it affects us and we’re done catering to him.”
A deep furrow formed on her brow. “And you need to do this in the woods? Why?”
Perhaps sensing the ratcheting tension in the room, Midget and Maxine trotted toward him and began to bark and twirl around his legs.
He tried to step around them.
Maxine lurched in his path. He stumbled, catching himself on the stone fireplace mantel.
He straightened himself upright and stared down at the dogs.
“To bed,” he commanded, snapping his fingers.
Tongues lolling, both dogs wagged their tails.
“To bed,” he said again.
The dogs slunk toward their respective red and blue plaid flannel beds near the fireplace. They each laid down with a groan of protest.
Jackson turned to Blaire who still sat on the sofa with her arms and legs crossed.
Right now, Blaire stared at him with a fixed, narrow-eyed gaze which made his whole body seem nailed to the floor.
“Come on, baby.” Jackson’s fingernails bit into his palms. “Jake won’t get better without treatment. He needs to be held accountable.” The accountability word had become his new mantra. “He won’t seek treatment unless he’s forced. It’s a good idea.”
“You come on,” she said, sitting forward. “It’s ridiculous to do an intervention on your own. You’re supposed to do that with qualified professionals.”
She swept her arm out in front of her as if a few addiction counselors might instantly pop up in their living room.
“He’ll be suspicious if anyone else comes along.” He splayed his hands, trying to get some of the tension out. “Besides, you’ll be there.”
Her body grew rigid, and her face flushed. “You’re crazy, you know that, right? No way will I go camping with your loser brother. Hell, he’ll probably stab us both, steal all our money, and try to find drugs to buy from a park ranger.”
“Park rangers aren’t typically dealers,” Jackson ground out through gritted teeth.
“He’ll find the one that is,” Blaire said.
He waved his hand in her direction. “We’re not going where there are park rangers, anyway. I thought we’d head up Egg Ranch Road.”
“Even better,” she said, her eyeballs drawing a half-circle in the air. “No witnesses.”
Ignoring her commentary, he said, “I’ve got a buddy, Rick Heller, who lives on Egg Ranch Road who said I could camp up there. He purchased a house at the end of the road before all the wealthy moved up there. There’s a really pretty little lake in the forest the tourists rarely get to. And hot springs…”
“Uh-huh. So, you’ve talked to a buddy about this trip before mentioning it to me. Nice, Jackson.”
“What? I did
n’t really do anything other than ask around to see if it’s feasible.” He folded his arms over his chest. “He’s the guy who sold us the car and renter’s insurance we got through the department. He came into the station yesterday to see if any of the new volunteers needed insurance. I asked him if the offer still stood.” Like a time-bomb waiting for the countdown, he kept his anger in check. He’d never yelled at Blaire and didn’t intend to start.
“Don’t forget…you’re talking about the guy who ripped me off in my own home,” Blaire said, fire in her eyes. She launched to her feet and faced him, about a yard away.
That was the match to his fuse. He threw his hands in the air. “Why the fuck are you tripping? Do you want to fight is that what you want?”
“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? We’re fighting about Jake,” she hissed, thrusting out her chest and clenching her hands into fists.
He grabbed his chin and cracked his neck from side to side, trying to ease some of the tension shooting through his bloodstream. “No, we’re fighting about a difficult decision I made and didn’t consult you.” His lungs bellowed. He forced air into his cheeks and slowly let it out.
She shook out her hands and looked to the ceiling.
For a few seconds, they both avoided one another’s gaze.
Finally, letting out a long breath, she said, “I know you’re trying, Jackson. When are you hoping to do this stupid plan?”
Hope bloomed in his heart, causing his heart to stop pounding. “Fourth of July weekend. It’s the only time I could get off.” That’s usually the day that Jake acts out the worst. That’s when Dad left. He’s played more stupid pranks on me on the 4th than I care to count.
Her arms resumed their stranglehold across her chest. The purple Swarovski crystal necklace he’d bought her for her birthday two weeks ago hung from her neck. It sparkled in the late-day sun, lighting the room.
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