16. Landon
16
LANDON
“ O h, my God.” Of all the sights that I expected to walk in and see in my father’s room, this was not it. I actually have to blink a few times to see if I’ve lost my mind or if this is actually happening, but nothing changes in front of me. Nothing at all. “Dad.”
I bend down near him and almost reach out to touch him, but I have to force myself not to at the very last minute. If I touch his lifeless body, it won’t do anything good. He’s too blue to come back to life now, and that bullet wound through his head looks pretty life-ending. Plus, I’ll be tampering with evidence and getting my fingerprints everywhere. Someone needs to be caught for this, and I don’t want to be the reason that doesn’t happen. No way. My father might not have been the best man alive, but I don’t think a bullet through his skull is the answer. I might not be able to change that, but I can help someone get caught.
“Fuck, Dad, this is messed up.” I don’t like looking at him like this. He seems smaller somehow in his pool of blood. How the fuck did no one hear this going on? How did no one know or spot this afterward? Is everyone in this apartment block so afraid of being blamed for this that they were too scared to do anything? Would their criminal records put them at risk? I guess so if I’m worried about putting myself in the firing line because we didn’t always have the best relationship. “Dad, why are you dead?”
I rake my fingers through my hair as the emotion begins to get to me. When I think back to the day everything changed, when I learned that my parents weren’t decent people but criminals who pushed Heather and her father away, I wonder what I could have done differently. Maybe if I hadn’t walked away and I’d helped them, they could be better people now. My father wouldn’t be dead and I wouldn’t have to contact my mom in jail to tell her what’s happened. Things could be so different.
“I’m sorry if this is my fault,” I whisper pathetically at him. “I never wanted you to get hurt. Never, ever. Even though I punched you and yelled at you about Heather, and to be honest, I haven’t really ever had the kindest thoughts about you, but I wouldn’t have wished this on you. Really, all I ever wanted was for you to get better. But I didn’t help.”
My heart sinks so low I could scream. Maybe there wasn’t anything that I could have done, but at the same time, now I’ll never know. I’m never going to have the opportunity to find out whether I could make a difference. I gave up. Seeing Dad like this makes me never want to give up on another human being again. It makes me want to be so much better…
“Dad, I’m going to get the cops here now,” I promise him. “Get some help, see what assistance I can get for you. I know I can’t do much, but maybe… well, maybe I can make this part a little bit better for you. Somehow. Somehow, I can give you the dignity in death that you weren’t really allowed in life. Even if that was down to life choices, now… now, you need better.”
I step out of the room because I need some space to make this call. I can’t be in that room which is flooded with death and the scent of decay for another second longer. Honestly, if this were any other apartment block, someone would have smelled that and reported it already, but no one here wants to go above the radar for even a moment. Everyone is too afraid.
“This is going to be awful,” I warn myself as I get out my cellphone to put in the call. “Hell on earth.”
I never knew what I was coming here to face. I thought that I might get answers. The only answers I got in regard to the criminal gang is that they’re ruthless and have absolutely no regard for human life. That isn’t great news at all…
It’s the early hours of the morning before I manage to get away, after all the drama surrounding my father’s death and the interviews I had to go through. Being Bill’s son and the person who found him was enough to have them suspicious of me for having some kind of involvement in the crime. Thank God Officer Buchan wasn’t on the scene or they probably still would be.
I’m sure he would love some way to pin this on me to get me locked up where he wants me. I’m not totally convinced that isn’t going to happen, but for the moment I need to get to the office to find a way to contact Mom. After all these years, I’m finally going to call the jail to see if I can pass the news on to her. I don’t know if someone else will tell her, the police maybe, but just in case no one has thought of poor Alice Ross rotting away inside, waiting for the day she can be with her husband once more and they can continue on in their downward, toxic trajectory, I think I should tell her. She deserves to know that he’s gone.
Max has all the details on where she is. He has always kept up to date on it for me should I want to know, and now, at last, I do. I’m also curious whether she might know who might hate Dad enough to kill him, who he might owe that kind of money to. That way, we can have some answers and also find out what happened to Heather. In all of this, I haven’t forgotten about her. In fact, I’m more aware of how much danger she’s in and I’m more determined to protect her than ever. She needs me and I need her.
The office is weird, all quiet and empty. Dark too. It has my head spinning with nerves like I might be attacked here. But of all the places that those criminals might find me, I don’t think it will be here. Anyway, I have a goal in mind and it’s all I need to I need to worry about. I have to find the phone number to the prison where Mom is before someone else gets to her.
“A voicemail message?” Now that seems unusual to me to see in Max’s office. He’s always the first one in, aside from today where it’s nearly five AM, but I haven’t slept in forever, and he’s always the last one to leave too. It seems strange that someone would leave him a message. Whether it’s too much curiosity or lack of sensibilities because I’m so tired, I don’t know, but I hit the button to listen to the message, and as soon as the message starts, my blood runs cold. I can’t believe it.
“Hello, Max… or Landon, I guess. This is Heather. Err, Heather Buchan. Lola Rose who you saved from Bill Ross… why am I telling you this? You know it. Anyway, right now I’m at number eight on Fall Away street, at my father’s house, and I need help. Not that he’s doing anything wrong or whatever. I just… urgh, I need support. Please, come and see me, someone. At least just to tell me what’s going on. Dad obviously thinks that I’m still in a lot of danger, but I need to know for myself. Thanks. Bye.”
Each whispered word makes my breath catch in my throat. I’m nearly dizzy enough to fall down by the end of it. It’s her voice, her beautiful voice, and she’s still calling out for me, even after everything that’s happened. Oh, my God, this is what I’ve been searching for, what I’ve been waiting for. This is a way for me to find Heather at last. She sounds okay, albeit a little nervous on the message, but not like she’s been in danger, more like she’s worried she might be. That’s great news, but I still want to save her. I’m still compelled to rescue her from Officer Buchan’s damn tyranny, from his terrible rage.
“I’m going to get you, Heather,” I mutter to myself with excitable tears in my eyes. “I just need to get this number first.”
God, having two things to focus on is such a challenge when they’re this important. Letting Mom know that Dad is no longer around is still vital, so I want the phone number. But since I probably won’t be permitted to actually call her until later on, I can go to the address left on the message to save Heather first. Then I’ll have her, and hopefully, the information about who might well be after her. Then as much as Max doesn’t want me in the middle of this job, he will see that I used my intuition and did the right thing, anyway. I honestly don’t believe that I can be too close to this case. My emotions make me stronger and better.
It’s weird to consider defying the boss that I have a lot of respect for and faith in, but this time, I need to go with my gut. My entire body is screaming at me, using every instinct that I have to let me know that I need to be in the middle of this, that I have to be Heather’s hero because I really am the only one who gets it, and I’m going with that. I have to.
So, with almost a smile playing on my lips because everything is finally starting to come together in a way that I wasn’t expecting, I search for Mom’s jail number, knowing that I’m stepping closer with every passing minute. I’m still gutted about losing my father, but that grief has thankfully taken a backseat for the moment. I can deal with that later on when I have more time to process it all. At least with it not clouding my vision, I can wait until Heather’s father goes to work and get to her.
It’ll hit me hard soon enough, I’m sure of it, along with the guilt once more, but I don’t need that today. Not right now. Thankfully, my time in the military has taught me how to compartmentalize in a very effective way when I need to. It’s almost as if everything that has come in my life so far has all been bringing me back to this moment when I can make life right.
“This is going to be good,” I repeat to myself over and over like a mantra while I work. “This is going to be good. This is.”
Just to keep my mood upbeat, just to try and remind myself what I’m fighting for, I’m aiming for that positive outcome, for the happy ever after shit. I want Heather to be back in my life and for her to stay there. I don’t want her to end up going the same way as my dad, because of my dad. That would be awful. But now, I have something to go on. I know that she’s out there and I can find her again. I’m confident that life will be good from here because it has to be. There is no other option.
No more drama, please. Not when it comes to Heather and me. I feel like we’re on a positive trajectory now and we need to keep going in that direction. I’m sure that neither of us wants any more parental interference. We just want to be happy.