Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Mick
T he tiny interview room dwarfs the boy in the chair. But he does his best to blend in with the criminal undertones. Arms crossed and chin lifted, Ashley’s expression is mutinous. No sign of remorse. If my blood pressure was hypertensive when I received his call, it’s stroke level now. His sullen gaze skips over me to Jake, and the first crack appears with the tiniest quiver of his bottom lip. There’s still hope.
Jake clasps my shoulder. “You’ve got ten minutes.” He gives Ashley one last searing glare and walks out the door, closing it behind him. We should be down at the pub, celebrating the breakthrough in the case. Instead, Greg and Emily have taken off to the gym and Jake’s breaking protocol to let me have this private conversation.
Ranting and raving won’t help. Ashley trusted me enough to call me when he was arrested, even if he’s treated me like the enemy ever since he arrived. I need to show him I’m deserving of that trust. I rub the knotted muscles at the back of my neck and sit across from him. “Tell me what happened. ”
He wraps his arms tighter around his waist. “Why should I?”
“Because I want to help you.” I keep my tone calm and my hands on my lap in an open posture.
He regards me for a few seconds and then some more before hanging his head. “No one can help me.” The defeat in his voice hits me as hard as the bullet that struck Davo. He rocks back and forth.
I lean forward a little. Not too much that it’s intimidating but enough to show he can trust me. At least that’s the message I hope my body language is conveying. “You don’t know that. And neither do I unless you tell me.”
He unfolds his arms and sips from a glass of water. His hands tremble so hard it spills. “I’m scared, Mr Williams.”
Christ. My throat constricts. Now he calls me ‘Mr’. “It’s just you and me in here, Ashley. What happened?”
“But—”
“No buts. I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth. All of it.” I point to my chest. “I’m a friend, not a cop. I promise that whatever you say will remain between you and me.”
God, forgive me, Davo. I hope I can honour that promise.
Ashley’s gaze darts around the small room and back to me. “We were just hangin’ out and smokin’.”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t cigarettes?” I already know it’s not, but I need Ashley to admit it.
“No.” He shuffles his feet along the floor. “I can’t snitch, Mr Williams. I can’t.”
He fears reprisal. I get it. But the consequences will be more severe if he doesn’t get off this path of self-destruction. “Did your friend give you anything else?”
He sips more water, his fingers trembling around the glass. Liquid sloshes over the sides.
I nod encouragingly. “I can’t help if I don’t know everything.”
He wraps his arms around his waist again. Stares at me as if trying to decide if he can trust me. I stay still, not wanting to spook him. After a few moments he lowers his gaze. “My mate Logan said he had some even better stuff in his bag.”
“Did he give it to you?”
“No.” He shakes his head hard. “That’s when the fight broke out, and the teachers sprung us.”
Thank Christ. “So, you’re guilty of smoking a bit of dope and nothing else?”
He looks me in the eye. “Yes, sir.”
This isn’t his first time using marijuana. I’ve seen him under the influence twice before. But my gut tells me he hasn’t touched harder drugs. Yet.
“You’re lucky you only had one joint in your possession. There’s a good chance you’ll get off with a caution.” His so-called friend won’t be as fortunate. He was caught with enough cocaine to keep a cricket team high for a week.
His expression lights up. “Really?”
“Really. But you need to admit that you were smoking the joint. Don’t deny it.”
“Yes, Mr Williams.”
There’s ‘Mr’ again. His entire demeanour has undergone a transformation in the last five minutes. Gone is the insolent teen and, in its place, a glimpse of the boy he must have been before he got caught up with the wrong crowd. His positive reaction gives me faith that this is just a blip on the road to adulthood.
“I wish Mum didn’t have to know about this.” His voice holds a tremor.
Tears swim in his eyes. I want to hug him. Tell him it’s okay.
I’m sorry, Davo. If I hadn’t been running from the past, your son might not be in this mess.
He sniffles. “She’s gonna be disappointed.”
“Yep. But she’ll be more relieved you’re safe. You mean the world to her, Ashley. ”
The door swings open, and Melissa storms inside. “Oh my God, Ash. What have you done?”
I leap out of my chair. I’d expected tears, not fire.
Ashley shrinks into his seat. “I’m sorry, Mum.”
“This is the last straw.” She jabs her finger at him. “You’re grounded for a year. No skateboard park. No TV. No friends. No …” Her jaw slams shut and her eyes water.
I hold my hands out to her. This could end badly if I don’t calm her down. “Melissa, he said he’s sorry.”
She stands as if suspended, her gaze swinging between me and her son. “I …”
Ashley launches himself at her. A sob wrenches from Melissa’s mouth as she smothers him in a mama bear hug I imagine would normally have him squirming, except he’s hugging her just as hard.
I step away and give them some room.
Melissa must sense the movement. She kisses Ashley, then embraces me. “Thanks for being here, Mick.” She sobs into my shirt. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
I rub Melissa’s back. “It’s okay. Ashley’s okay. I’m sure the authorities will be lenient.”
She hiccups and peels herself off my shirt. “He’ll be suspended.”
Ashley hangs his head. “I’ll make it up to you.”
The ink on my skin tingles. Davo would be so proud. Hell, I’m proud of how he’s owning up to his mistake. “Perhaps this is a good time to join the Police Youth Club?”
His head snaps up. “They’d still take me?”
In the scheme of things, his offence is minor. It’s where it could lead that’s the bigger threat. “I’m sure they would.”
I inch towards the door.
Melissa’s fingers snake around my wrist. “You’re going?”
“You and Ashley need a few minutes alone.”
Her chin wobbles as if she’s about to burst into tears. She releases my arm and rubs her nose with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I’m a bit emotional.”
“Did you drive here?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t trust myself.”
“I’ll call an Uber once the paperwork is sorted.”
Jake stands like a security guard outside the door, the sharp fluorescent lights throwing harsh lines across his face. I clasp his shoulder. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” His expression is neutral, which is not unusual, but there’s a stiffness to his posture that has the hairs on my nape standing to attention. “Let’s talk in my office.”
During the short walk down the corridor, I almost feel like I’m the one in trouble, not Ashley. Jake ushers me through the door and closes it behind us.
“Have a seat, Mick.”
I slide into a chair at the small table. Jake grabs a bottle of water and joins me.
“What’s going on with you and Melissa?” His head tilts and I can see the cogs turning.
So, this is why he’s giving me cold vibes. “It’s not what you think.”
Jake regards me with the unblinking stare that makes him a formidable detective in the interrogation room. “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”
I rub sweaty palms on my thighs. I’ve got a pretty good idea, and I’d doubt it’s favourable.
He sips his water. “Does Jules know yet?” Trust Jake to go straight to the crux of the issue.
“No. I’ve been meaning to tell her, but it never seems to be the right time.”
“It’s not my business but take it from someone who knows first-hand.” He rubs the front of his neck. “Secrets always have a way of coming back to haunt you. ”
He’s spot-on about that. He nearly lost Claire because he didn’t share all his past with her.
I fold my arms across my chest. “I’ll tell her tonight. I’m sure she’ll understand.” My right leg shakes and my vision blurs. I breathe in deep to calm the panic swirling inside.
Jake nods, but his eyes remain flat. We both know I can’t explain why I’ve kept Melissa a secret this long without Jules going nuclear on me. She’s likely to boot me out of the house faster than Zola can chase a rubber ball down the yard.
I stand and grip the back of my chair. Why didn’t I tell Jules the moment Melissa called me last year? I have no answer to that question. It’s like a switch flips whenever I’m reminded of my time undercover. The less I talk about it, the less real it is. The less real Davo’s death is. At least that’s the lie I delude myself with. I thought I could help Melissa with Ashley and then stash them both away again in that hidden box of memories I keep under lock and key.
Will Jules understand why it was so hard to share it with her?
I head towards the door, dragging my feet as if my shoes are lined with lead.
“Mick …”
I swivel and lower my gaze to Jake’s chest. I can’t bear to see the concern in his expression. “Yeah.”
“There’s nothing shameful about PTSD or reaching out to a counsellor.”
He sees too much. “I know.”
This is the second time Jake’s suggested I see a psychologist, and while I want to tell him it’s none of his business, there’s no point getting into an argument about it. He wants to help and is worried I’m screwing up my marriage; it’s written all over his face. But he doesn’t understand that counselling can’t turn back the clock. Stop me from making the fatal mistake that cost Davo his life.