Chapter 18
“You’re not my father, so just back the fuck off!
” Toby said, irritated that Reed had found him loitering on the steps of the red-brick apartment building where his sister was living.
Dusk was approaching, the streetlights were beginning to wink on, and the courtyard where Reed had caught up to the boy was empty.
And Reed wasn’t in the mood to be berated.
Not by the kid.
Not by anybody.
After a long day of chasing down leads, sorting through anonymous tips that had come through the department, and dealing with the brass who wanted answers about the two homicides and wanted them now, he didn’t have time for any bullshit from anyone.
He probably shouldn’t have tracked the kid down.
But he felt obligated, especially after the call from Sylvie’s sister, Claire, who lived in Texas but was concerned about her nephew. “I just want to talk to you,” he said calmly.
“I got nothin’ to say to you!” Toby looked him up and down, glowering at him.
“Don’t you?”
“No!” Gone was the Mohawk of a few years back, replaced by long hair curling around his ears and a scraggly, wannabe beard.
Nearly eighteen, he was dressed in a wrinkled T-shirt and baggy shorts.
He was still lean, but filling out a bit in the shoulders and now was almost six feet tall.
He would have towered over his petite, hard-edged mother had she still been alive and was a few inches taller than his sparkplug of an old man, Sylvie Morrisette’s ex, Bart Yelkis.
“I heard you moved out.”
“From who? Oh, don’t tell me,” Toby sneered. “Someone over at child services.”
“Your aunt. She says you’ve been couch surfing. Crashing with friends. Skipping school.”
Toby’s eyes narrowed. “It’s none of her business. Or yours.”
“Where’re you planning to live?”
Toby shrugged, his gaze moving to a squirrel that dashed across the flagstones to scramble up the massive trunk of a live oak. “What’s it to you?”
“Wanna know if I can help.”
Toby made a disgusted sound as he brought his attention back to Reed.
Obviously, he wasn’t getting along with his dad, but if he had any bruises, they weren’t visible, and the kid wouldn’t let him know if his piece-of-crap father had used him as a punching bag.
Reed had never seen evidence of it, but Sylvie had been protective of her children, insinuating that Bart was at least emotionally abusive. That was bad enough.
Without proof, Reed couldn’t do anything “We’ve got an apartment over our garage,” he offered, though he’d never brought it up before.
Then again, Toby hadn’t been almost eighteen before.
And Nikki probably wouldn’t care. Hell, didn’t she have a habit of taking in strays?
Sure, they were usually in the form of dogs or cats, but she never really consulted Reed about the adoption, just hauled them home.
“You could stay there. Long as you want.”
“Oh sure. Like that’s gonna happen.” Before Reed could say anything else, Toby added, “Isn’t your wife the reason my mom is dead?”
That cut deep. Because there was more than a little truth in it. “Your mother died in the line of duty.”
“Yeah, because your stupid-ass wife was where she wasn’t supposed to be and my mom saved her so she didn’t drown! That’s why my mom … Shit.” His eyes glistened a little, and he scrabbled in his pockets for cigarettes and a lighter as, high overhead, the squirrel began to scold.
Reed’s jaw was so tight it ached, but he held it together as the teen lit up and took a deep drag, while cars passed, the beams from headlights flashing through the open front gate. “So where are you living?”
“My business.”
“You’re not eighteen.”
“Big deal. A few months.” More petulant smoking. More cars going by, headlights flashing through the courtyard’s open gate.
Two girls pushed through the doors of the apartment building, and Toby looked up, expectantly, but they passed by, both engrossed in their phones, not even glancing his way.
Reed said, “You haven’t been in school.”
“For fuck’s sake, how do you know that?” He answered his own question. “Oh, right, you’re a cop! You can do anything.”
“Your aunt’s worried,” Reed said, irritated by the attitude. He knew the boy was hurting, but Reed wasn’t setting himself up to be a whipping boy. “Your aunt Claire said you could live with her.”
“Well, she can just forget it! I’m not moving to goddamned Plano, okay?” Toby nearly shouted, his eyes flashing. “Why don’t you just fuck off and leave me the hell alone?”
“I promised your mom—”
“She’s dead! Right? We just went over this!
I don’t want you in my life, and I don’t care about whatever guilt or responsibility or whatever the hell it is you’re carrying around with you.
That’s on you!” He jabbed at Reed with his cigarette, then thought better of it and backed up a step.
“Back off, man, just … back the hell off.” His voice cracked a little as he tossed his cigarette onto the sidewalk, crushed it out with the heel of an army boot. “Leave me alone!”
“You know, this attitude isn’t getting you anywhere.”
The boy’s fist bunched, and Reed saw his eyes spark. Electricity sizzled through the air and, with it, way too much testosterone. Toby, coiled tight as a pit viper, was itching for a fight, ready to strike. “I told you to ‘fuck off.’ Are you deaf or just dumb?”
Every muscle in Reed’s body tensed. If the kid wanted to fight, Reed could give him one. A good one. As the squirrel continued to scold and traffic rolled by, Reed felt his jaw tighten, and he held the boy’s gaze, saying without words, Go for it, you little prick. Take me on.
For a split second, Reed thought Toby would attack. He knew the boy wanted, maybe needed, to use Reed as a punching bag, to wail on him, fists flying, letting loose all the pent-up frustration burning through him.
So be it.
Reed was ready.
He understood.
Hadn’t he once been a rebellious, mad-at-the-world teenager himself? Hadn’t he wanted to beat the living tar out of anyone who tried to tell him what to do? Hadn’t he been fired up by alcohol and machismo and self-righteousness?
“Do it,” Reed warned, egging the angry-at-the-world teen on, his lips barely moving, his eyes focused hard on Morrisette’s boy. “See what happens.”
Toby’s fists clenched again. He began circling Reed, searching for a soft spot, ready to throw the first punch. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Then you’d have an excuse to arrest me.”
“Try me,” Reed said, keeping the kid in his sights. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The door to the apartment building burst open, and three girls, silhouetted by the lights in the building’s lobby, stepped onto the sidewalk.
Toby caught sight of his sister. He froze for a second, still sizing Reed up. Then, suddenly, he lowered his arms. “Hey!” he called to the group.
Priscilla, in the middle of the group, saw him, said something to her friends and approached.
Like her mother, she was petite and compact, and her hair had once been as blond as Sylvie’s.
Now, though, she sported an uneven haircut—shaved on one side of her head, and on the other, chin-length strands tinged green.
A nose ring glinted in one nostril, and she was sporting what appeared to be a new, vine-like tattoo running up her forearm.
“What’re you doing here?” she asked her brother as she spied Reed, her eyebrows knitting slightly. “What’s going on?”
Reed managed a faint smile. “Toby here was about to show me some of his cage-fighting skills.”
“What? No! Tobes … Oh, wait. I get it. You’re kidding, right?” She laughed a little, unsure, because she, of all people, knew how volatile her brother could be.
“Right,” Reed said and caught Toby’s eye, daring him to argue. Reed had always gotten along with Priscilla.
“He wanted to fight me,” Toby announced and jutted out his chin.
One of Priscilla’s neatly plucked brows raised.
“Probably not a good idea, Tobes,” she admonished.
“What—what are you doing here?” she asked again, then when Toby didn’t immediately answer, she put two and two together.
“You got into a fight with Dad, again, didn’t you?
And he kicked you out. Damn it, Tobes, I told you to just put up with it a little longer.
You graduate in June. That’s only a few months …
oh, shit, you didn’t get kicked out of school, too, did you?
” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, her lips flattening and reminding Reed of his ex-partner.
“God, why can’t you just roll with it for a few more weeks? ”
“You don’t understand.”
“Oh, yeah, I do!” She looked over her shoulder to her two friends, who were watching the display. “Go on,” she called to them. “I’ll catch up.”
One of the friends took in the scene. “You sure?”
“Yeah, go. Go!” Then as the two left, she turned back to her brother. “You fought with Dad again. Admit it,” she demanded as the squirrel, tired of chattering, climbed higher in the tree.
“Nah. I was just in town.”
“And you brought along Mom’s partner?” she said in disbelief, underlining her words as she motioned toward Reed.
“He just showed up!” Toby said, then snarled, “Probably following me.”
Reed said, “Your aunt called. Toby’s been missing some school.”
“You got no right to butt in!” Toby shot back. “And don’t give me some bullshit about you caring or whatever. He only checks on us cuz he feels guilty!”
“It’s not guilt. It’s a promise I made to your mom.”
“Like paying for my schooling?” Priscilla asked. “I checked.”
The conversation wasn’t going the way Reed had hoped. “That’s different.”
“How?” Priscilla wanted to know.