Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
JACK
I drive fast, heading straight to Jared’s house. I’ve never been inside before, but I remember from picking him up a few times on the way to work.
Alaska has baggage, he said.
He knew all along and didn’t do anything about it.
Why would a guy like him dismiss her like that? Hide her accident from me? I remember him telling me to drop the photograph, and I’m glad I didn’t. What was that about? Trying to initiate some kind of bro-code out of nowhere to keep his hands clean?
I park in front of his house, my tires screeching against the concrete, and jump out, rushing to his porch. I don’t knock; instead, I slam my fists against the door until I hear hurried footsteps inside. A light flickers on, breaking through the evening darkness.
It’s late, around eleven. I didn’t want to leave my girl, so I waited longer to come here.
But now that I’m face-to-face with one of the people responsible for her pain, someone I thought was my friend, I wonder if I’ll be able to keep my cool.
The lock clicks, and Jared cracks the door open, peering through the gap before opening it wider.
He’s wearing a gray T-shirt and navy sweatpants, his hair slightly messy like I just woke him up.
“Jack? What are you doin’ here?” he rasps, rubbing a hand down his face. “Did something happen?”
“Matthew Jenkins. That n-name ring any bells to ya?” I choke out.
His face drains of color. “Come in,” he says, motioning inside with his chin. I clench my fists, trying to keep myself in check. I shut my eyes for a second, picturing Alaska. Somehow, her face works its magic, easing the tension in my shoulders just a little.
There’s not much light, but I can see a spacious living room to the left, an open kitchen in the back with a view of the garden.
To the right, a stairway leads to what I guess are the bedrooms. The place is decorated with moody wood tones and dark linen.
Pictures of him in uniform line the entryway, alongside one of his family.
Barefoot, he leads the way to his mahogany kitchen.
Circling the island, he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and holds it up in offering.
I shake my head. This isn’t a social visit.
He gestures to a stool with his palm. I sit, resting my forearms on the counter, watching him from across the island.
“I knew you’d figure it out sooner or later,” he says quietly, leaning back against the sink. “Go ahead. Ask away.” He wipes the air with the back of his hand, his face slack with the silent defeat of a chess player in checkmate.
“A-ask away?” I repeat, his light tone slapping me right in the face, insulting Alaska and all she’s been through. “You covered up a-a b-body, and you just say that like it’s nothing? What is wrong with you?”
“Calm down.” Thank God for the wide kitchen island, because I’m itching to put my fist through his face. “I don’t think you’ve got all the facts,” holding a palm in the air. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t be interrogating me like this.”
“So talk.”
“I…I didn’t cover up a body, for fuck’s sake, Jack. I’m a cop. A member of this community. I care about it, you know that.” He points at me. “I didn’t have a choice back then.”
“Why?”
“When we found them…” he hesitates, his jaw tightening, “when I found her…” He winces, like he’s trying to shake off the indelible memory.
“I was the first on scene. I was patrolling nearby when a man flagged me down on the road. Said there was a girl covered in blood out on the lake.” I picture the scene, pain pulsing under my skin.
“I ran faster than I ever had in my life. Almost wiped out on the fucking ice ‘cause I wasn’t wearing skates.” He waves a hand in the air.
“Whatever. When I got there, she…she was in shock. I knew right away it was an accident, I mean, she wasn’t even registering me.
I don’t think she even remembers any of it.
” Something in his voice cracks. “She kept muttering about Matthew, and that’s when I realized the kid was under the ice.
But I…I was too late.” He grits his teeth.
“Just too late.” His mouth twists like he’s trying to hold something back.
“I drove her to the hospital. She wasn’t talking or moving, it was…
They sewed her fingers and she blacked out.
I remember—” He shuts his eyes hard. “Her mom fainted, and I watched her father hold her on the floor. I’ll never forget that.
Sometimes before falling asleep…I can still smell the disinfectant in the air. ”
“Hours later, her parents brought her to the station. We needed to know what had happened, if someone was still out there, hurting people, or if it was really an accident. But she…she lost it. Kept saying she was dead. She kept trying to rip her stitches open. It was bad, man. Worst day I’ve ever had on the job.
We had a medical crew come over and sedate her, or she would’ve ripped the skin off her face.
It was that bad.” He takes a long gulp of water.
“No one had seen the accident. And the body, I mean Matthew, was still missing. When we tried to get her statement, a few days later at her parents’ house, she couldn’t explain it.
It was inconclusive, evasive. She barely remembered anything.
” He exhales. “We sent out a dive team and, yeah…we found him.” His voice drops lower.
“You ever seen a body after a few days underwater?” He flinches, shutting his eyes for a beat.
“I don’t even want to describe it. Especially ‘cause I knew him. Even if he was always a jerk to Alaska.” I listen, piecing everything together.
“I told my captain it was the county’s fault,” he continues.
“Told him straight up that the ‘thin ice’ sign they put up wasn’t enough.
Every damn kid in town went there anyway.
If it hadn’t been Matthew, it would’ve been somebody else.
” He shrugs, shaking his head. “Fletcher agreed. But when he reported it, the county shut it down. Told us to keep our mouths shut or we’d lose our jobs.
They said no one really knew what had happened since she was the only witness, and it’d be better left alone.
” His voice falters, shame standing right next to him.
“They told her parents it was an accident. Threatened to fire us on the spot if we talked.” His hands curl into fists on the counter.
“My dad was going through his second round of chemo at the time. I needed that insurance money, Jack. I couldn’t risk it.
The kid was already gone. Nothing was going to bring him back, and the Jenkins were too shattered to even think about a lawsuit.
When we told them about the accident, they just sat there on their sofa, listening.
And when we were done, her dad looked me in the eye…
and said, ‘Thank you for your service.’” Jared’s lips form a hard line.
“If you think there’s nothing worse than death—” he gulps water, “I can tell you that shame wins it over a hundred times.” A heavy silence settles between us.
“In a way, I’m glad they got to grieve their son in peace, not in the middle of a legal battle.
I knew the only person who never recovered from it was Alaska.
” His voice softens again. “I watched her grow up with Bella. They were inseparable. After that day…she vanished. Lost her spark. Can’t remember seeing her smile.
She became like…” He exhales. “Like a ghost.”
“So you j-just let it slide?” I ask, my voice tight.
“I didn’t just let it slide, Jack.” He meets my eyes.
“I didn’t have a choice. I had my own burden to carry.
Do you have any idea what chemo costs?” His hand clutch the water bottle.
“And even without my dad’s relapse…” His throat shakes.
“I still couldn’t find a good enough reason to reopen their wounds.
They’d lost their kid, Jack. No lawsuit would ever change that. ” I take a breath, letting it sink in.
“Did you know she sp-spent the last s-six years thin-think-thinking she killed him?”
Jared shakes his head. “No, I didn’t. I thought she was still in denial about his death.
That’s what Bella told me.” I don’t tell him the full truth, that Alaska doesn’t just talk about Matthew like he’s alive.
She sees him. She speaks to him. I’ll protect her, and that starts by keeping the most fragile parts of her safe from judgment.
“If I’d known it was that bad, I swear, I would’ve reported the county.
” Jared exhales, stepping back from the counter.
He circles around and sinks onto the stool beside me.
His voice is quieter now. “I never wanted to hurt her. I knew this was a major trauma, that’s all.
” He looks at me. “That’s why I warned you about her in the first place.
Because she’s been through too much already. ”
He runs a hand through his hair. “When I saw you show that photograph to the old man, I knew it was only a matter of time. You’re sharp, Jack. A damn good cop. No wonder you’ve got that shiny new job waiting for you.” He’s calm, as if he had been expecting this conversation.
“Payton Hallow was Matthew’s piano teacher since he was about ten. Played at his funeral.” Jared’s voice tightens. “He was really fond of the kid. His death shook him to the bone…shook all of us.”
I pause, then press forward. “What about the t-tapes?” Jared frowns as I pull a tape from my inner pocket and slide it across the counter. Thick black letters scrawled in marker stand out against the white label.
W.J.E.L.C.
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “After we reported to the county, they took the case from us. Said they’d handle it on their own. I never saw those tapes, Jack. I swear on Bella’s life.” His eyes meet mine, a moral shield back on his arm. “What’s on them?”