18. ~ Journey ~
eighteen
The tripto Fairmount is short, which is good for two reasons: I don”t like being in the car with Detective Summers for too long if I can help it, and because I always want to stay as close to you as I can. Work is as important to us as it is to everyone else, so I know that I have to do what I have to do, but god I miss your body’s scent. I crave the feel of your skin grazing across mine. Even as we pull into the parking lot of the two-story home of Chad Swanson and his family, I’m thinking of you, Sir. When this is all over, I’m going to run into your arms and throw my legs around you as we kiss. You are my daily fantasy, the dream that stays on my mind when I know I should be concentrating on the task at hand. Regardless of what I should be doing, I’m always thinking of you. My Sir.
“Journey … you okay?” Summers’ voice dissects my thoughts and snatches my attention over to him.
I smile with pinched lips. “Yeah, of course. You ready?”
His smile mirrors mine and I wonder if he’s faking it, too. “I am. Let’s do this.”
We get out on our respective sides, looking up at the massive house with pink and white details. Pink siding butts up against tan stone, while white pillars hold up the large porch and overhang in front of the door. I can see the white fencing in the back from here, and a dark brown gazebo standing tall over it. I wonder what’s back there. What does a family who clearly makes a ton of money have in its backyard? A pool? A giant shed with two riding lawn mowers inside? Maybe a basketball goal? My curiosity doesn”t stop me from walking up to the door, but I wonder what people with too much money do with it. Even with our combined incomes, you and I don”t have this kind of money, and it makes me hate this family before Summers can rap on the decorative white door and press the button on the Ring camera.
“Can we help you?” a woman’s thin voice asks from the Ring.
“Hello,” starts Summers. “My name is Detective Martin Summers and this is my partner, Detective Monroe. We’re here to speak with Chad Swanson and his guardians.”
A pause before a man takes over.
“What is this in regard to?” he inquires. It’s a good question, but since I’ve already decided that I don”t like anyone behind this door, I’m annoyed before the words can hit my lips.
“We’re investigating a crime and have some questions for your son,” I snip. “It’d be a lot easier to do this face to face instead of through the camera. We’d appreciate your cooperation.”
I see Summers glance at me out of the corner of my eye, but I don”t bother looking over. What the hell is he looking at anyway? I wanted to say so much worse.
Instead of getting a reply through the camera again, we hear the sound of footsteps followed by at least two deadbolts being turned on the other side of the door. Once the security measures have been removed, the door swings open and we’re greeted by a tall, pasty man with pale skin and blond hair, wearing a pink Polo and tight jeans. Without asking a single question I already know this is Chad’s father. He looks like his name is Bartholomew and he doesn”t smile, but I don”t blame him. I wouldn”t smile either if I looked like that.
“Umm … is there a problem?” Bartholomew asks. “Why are you here to question our son?”
As I fix my lips to answer, a long-haired blond woman approaches from the back in a tight white shirt and a pastel pink skirt. Maybe a tennis court is in the backyard.
“Yes, what’s this about? It’s not every day detectives come knocking on our door,” she says.
Summers smiles like he wants to answer but I beat him to it.
“Well, it’s not every day that a diner in Center City that employs your son gets burned down. As I stated earlier, we need to ask Chad some questions. Now, we don”t have to do it here if you”re unwilling to cooperate. We can simply detain Chad and ask him our questions down at the precinct, or you can summon the lawyer I’m sure you have on standby. Either way, our questions will be asked and Chad will answer them. Just let us know how you’d like to proceed.”
Bartholomew, pastel lady, and Summers all gawk at me, so I force a toothless smile to try to ease their tension.
You should see the looks on their faces, Sir. You’d think they never encountered someone who is direct before. I imagine people like this are not used to speaking with anyone other than yes men. Regardless of what they’re accustomed to, they’ve never met someone like me before.
“Uh, okay,” Bartholomew says. “Come on in, I guess. We’ll grab Chad and have a quick chat in the study. The conversation will let us know whether or not we need to summon the standby lawyer.”
Sarcasm? Attitude? Is that what I’m sensing from Bartholomew? My eyes widen, but Summers taps me in the forearm as the homeowners step aside and let us in. I cut my eyes over to him and he shakes his head as if telling me to cut it out.
I’d give anything to have you here right now. With you around, Evan, no one would touch me. Even though you gave Chad a pass because he’s young, I know you’d lose it over Summers making contact with my body. Your body. It belongs to you. An accidental brush against my skin is the same as having a death wish when you”re around.
Barbie and Ken lead us into the house where we round a corner and step into a tidy study. The place is decked out in mahogany furniture and decorated with sculptures of animals on pedestals. An eagle flies in the far corner while a tiger roars in another. A statue of a brown bear that’s nearly as tall as me intimidates the room from his spot next to the couch. I eye his teeth as I sit down and Summers squats next to me. Barbie and Ken sit across from us on a leather couch of their own, their expressions stone cold.
“Chad is on his way down,” Bartholomew says first, a furrow in his brow. “I’m Stanley, by the way. Stanley Swanson, and this is my wife Annette.”
“It’s very nice to meet you both,” Summers says cheerfully.
“I wish I could say the same,” Stanley—the father formerly known as Bartholomew—replies. “What exactly is going on and how does it involve our son?”
“Well, Mr. and Mrs. Swanson,” Summers says quickly, working hard to stay ahead of me. “We were called in to investigate a fire that burned down Andrea’s Diner last night. As it turns out, my partner here was at the diner with a companion when they encountered your son. He works there, correct?”
Why is he asking when we already know the answer? Ugh.
“Yes, he does. Well, he did,” Stanley replies.
“Right. Well, Detective Monroe says she was witness to an incident that took place—one where your son dropped a plate after clearly having a bad day, and stormed out of the diner after being fired.”
“Fired?” Annette jumps in with a puzzled look on her face. “Chad told us he quit.”
“I did,” a young voice cuts in from behind us.
Summers and I turn around to find Chad Swanson standing in the doorway, an oversized vintage Sublime T-shirt draped over his shoulders with baggy pants that look like they were pulled straight from the nineties. The adoring son doesn”t look anything like the product of the country club mother and father seated across from us. He’s clearly a problem child, which is perfect for me. I guarantee he has never heard a single song by Sublime, and I hate him even more for it.
Chad strides into the room with his eyes fixated on mine. From the moment he enters to the second he sits down, no one else is in the room but me. His glare isn”t much different from the one he wielded at the diner the last time I saw him. He has the same narrow eyes, tight jaw, and evil glare as before, and I wish more than anything that he was in the diner when I struck the match.
Better yet, I wish you and I could get our hands on him together. What a mess we could make with this little brat. What a lesson we could teach before we snuff out his life.
“Chad,” Annette says, guiding her son to the spot next to her on the couch as she looks at him lovingly. “These detectives are here to speak with you. They say there has been a fire at Andrea’s, and that there was an issue yesterday while you were at work. Detective Monroe here claims that you stormed out of the restaurant after being fired. Is that true?”
Chad keeps his eyes on me like he’s trying to make me spontaneously combust with his gaze. Little fucker.
“That is absolutely not true,” he says, finally forcing his eyes over to his worried mother. “I mean, part of it is true. I did see her there, and maybe I was having a bad day, but she was the one who made it worse. She knocked a plate full of food out of my hands, which caused Mr. Clark to come in. I knew he would charge me for it, so I was upset.”
“What did you say to get yourself fired?” Stanley cuts in. I can tell from the look on his face that he has dealt with one too many issues with Chad and he’s tired of it.
“I wasn’t fired,” Chad barks back. “Mr. Clark was going to charge me for the plate I dropped. He has done it in the past, and not just with me. So I quit before he could even go there. I can find a better job. One that doesn”t force me to deal with people like her.”
“People like me?” I snip with a raised eyebrow when I see Chad gesture toward me.
He scoffs. “Yeah, cops who come into the place treating workers like crap, sitting at the table talking about sex loudly in front of the other customers. It was disgusting. I’m only seventeen, you know? I shouldn”t have to stand there and listen to that when I’m just trying to do my job.”
All eyes in the room slice over to me just as my jaw drops to the floor. Chad isn”t just a young piece of shit. He’s a smart, manipulative, young piece of shit.
What I wouldn”t give to bury him next to Sierra Cross.
The look in Summers’ eyes tells me that he’s questioning me. Combine that with the fiery gaze of Chad’s parents and I feel like I’m on the stand at my own trial, the judge and jury glaring at me with newfound hatred.
I wish you were here to defend me. You’d know what to say in the blink of an eye. You”re so quick witted that an accusation like that wouldn”t stand a chance. Nevertheless, I have to handle this without you, as much as it pains me.
“First of all,” I begin with a pointed finger. “Whatever private conversation I may or may not have been having with my partner is none of your business. Secondly, you were clearly eavesdropping. You could have announced your presence as soon as you arrived at the table instead of standing there listening to what was being said. We would have stopped talking immediately if you would have just given us that respect. Lastly, you didn”t know I was a detective until you became belligerent and I felt the need to show you and the manager my badge. If I didn”t announce that I was law enforcement, who knows how much worse you would”ve gotten. Your attitude is the reason you were fired.”
“I wasn”t fucking fired!” Chad bellows. “Why are you lying about that? Mr. Clark didn”t fire me. I quit.”
“From where I was sitting, you were fired,” I shoot back.
“Liar. You”re trying to make it look like I went back to get revenge by setting the place on fire, aren”t you? You”re trying to set me up.”
“Now why would I do that?” I ask with a scoff.
“You’re clearly a terrible person,” Chad snaps.
“Regardless of what you think of me, young man, I am the detective investigating a fire that took place at your former place of employment after you had a heated argument with both a customer and your manager. I have reason to be suspicious of your whereabouts after you left the diner.”
“Wait, what time did this fire take place?” Stanley asks, his face contorted into what looks like a painful scowl.
“The call came in around four this morning,” Summers answers. “Which means the fire could have been started anytime between then and three o’clock.”
Stanley and Annette glance at each other, and I don”t have to be a mind reader to understand their silent communication. Little Chad wasn’t here at that time.
“I was with Paula,” Chad immediately says with wide eyes. “I swear to God I was with Paula.”
“With Paula, where?” Stanley interrogates, doing my job for me.
Chad hesitates and I raise my eyebrows. There’s no way it’s going to be this easy, right?
“We were just … out,” Chad says.
The muscles in my face nearly cramp from the effort required to keep from smiling.
“Out, where?” Stanley asks.
“We were just driving around. Nowhere in particular,” Chad explains. “Paula and I just get bored at her house sometimes, so we go for a drive until we get tired. That’s what we did last night. We drove through the city just talking before she brought me back home. I swear I didn”t set the diner on fire. You have to believe me.”
“Did you stop anywhere?” Annette asks.
“No … well, we stopped once, but only to get gas.”
“Where?” Summers cuts in, laser focused on everything Chad says.
“Umm … I’m not sure,” Chad answers, digging his hole even deeper with his bare hands.
“I need you to try and remember, Chad. It’s very important that you do,” says Summers.
“Umm … I think it may have been a Shell station or something. Just outside Center City.”
“Was it a Shell station or wasn’t it?” I jump in, tightening the screws so the kid slips up.
Chad frowns as his eyes begin to mist. “I don”t fucking know. I didn”t expect to be grilled like this over hanging out with my girlfriend.”
“Well, you may want to get your story straight, because all hell could break loose if you don”t,” I say, drawing the ire of both parents.
“Hey, do not talk to my son like that,” Stanley chastises. “It is not your place to speak to our son that way. How about you stick to investigating and leave the parenting to us?”
“Maybe if you parented better I wouldn”t be investigating,” I fire back.
Summers leans forward with his hands raised, showing he’s unarmed. “Whoah, whoah, whoah. There’s no need to get hostile. He gave his alibi, now we just need to look into it. If it all checks out, everything is good to go.”
“If it checks out?” Chad asks with a glower. “Wait, there’s no way you”re pulling Paula into this.”
“Chad, we’ll need her to corroborate your story,” Summers informs the family.
“You leave my girlfriend out of this,” Chad barks. “She doesn”t need you breaking down her door, accusing her of shit in front of her parents the way you”re doing me.”
“Why don”t you want us to ask her? Is it because you”re lying?” I ask.
“What’s your fucking problem, lady?” Chad exclaims.
“I don”t like being lied to,” I reply. “And I can spot a little troublemaker when I see one.”
“Alright, we’re out of here,” Summers cuts in, standing up and moving in front of me so that I can’t even be seen. “Mr. and Mrs. Swanson, thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch. I know it may be difficult after this, but try to have a nice day.”
“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Chad blares as he stands.
Summers motions for me to get up and I oblige, following him as he quickly walks out of the study, turns the corner, and snatches open the door. The family follows us out, hurling questions in our direction and becoming even more offended when they don”t get an answer. Stanley and Chad team up and spit insults in our direction as we get back in the car, and we can hear them still pelting the outside of the vehicle as we drive away.
“What the hell was that about?” Summers asks once we’ve cleared the verbal field of fire.
“What?” I say, swerving onto the highway.
“You were too hot in there, Monroe,” he says. “You were coming for that kid like you wanted him to be guilty. You can’t have personal bias like that.”
“It wasn’t personal bias. I was just doing my job. You were being the good cop, so I played the bad one.”
“Good cop, bad cop? Are you freaking serious? This isn’t a TV show, Monroe. Is that how you used to do it with Detective Winter?”
I pause, taking my eyes off the road just long enough to look at him with the fury of a thousand gods in my eyes. “Jesus, why are you always bringing up Winter?”
He scoffs as if I’ve said something childish. “I’m not always bringing him up, but I am trying to understand you better. We’re partners and I want to know who I’m working with. I need to be aware of the tactics you’ll use when we’re questioning someone together. That’s all I’m saying.”
I put my eyes on the road as I press the gas, but I have a strong desire to keep looking at him, assessing his intentions.
I don”t like people, Sir. I don”t trust them. People always have underlying motives and figuring out what they are is a challenge that annoys the shit out of me. The only person worthy of trust is you.
I used to only be annoyed by Summers. His constant smiling and asking questions about Sam have gotten on my nerves more times than I can count. I’ve been able to push it to the side and get my job done without it truly affecting me, but tonight I’m more than just annoyed. For the first time since he transferred from another division and became my partner, I feel something else for him.
Suspicion.