Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
“ Y ou sure this is okay?”
Ian switched the phone to his other ear, brought the spoon up to his lips, and tasted the sauce. Then he added a dash of oregano and stirred. “Of course, it’s okay. I’ll do whatever I can to help Amy.”
“He’s not going to let her leave him easily,” Lily said in a low voice. “Eric’s been threatening her and trying to lure her back using any and all means at his disposal.”
Ian continued to stir the sauce and frowned at the mixture. “I’m sure her lawyer can use all of this in court.”
“I wish he could, but my dad is being really careful. He sends messages that disappear right away through this app, among other things.”
“Never doing the dirty work himself, huh?”
Lily exhaled. “No, not really. It’s making it harder to build a case. That’s why Amy’s lawyer needs to get in touch with you. He’s hoping that another pair of eyes looking at the evidence will help her case. Prove that Eric isn’t who he says he is.”
Ian reached for the lid and covered the tomato sauce. “Are you sure you’re okay with all of this? I know he’s done a lot of horrible things, but he’s still your dad.”
Lily cleared her throat. “Being my dad doesn’t change the horrible things he’s done. I know it’s stupid, but I hold him to a higher standard because he’s my dad, and he’s a lawyer.”
Ian turned his back on the stove and went over to the counter.
He cradled the phone between his neck and shoulder, picked up the knife, and began chopping the vegetables. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re handling it well. I have no idea what I would do if my dad was behind something like this.”
“Stu isn’t that kind of person anyway, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Using his free hand, he scooped the vegetables up into a bowl. “You know you can talk to me about it, right? I wouldn’t hold it against you.”
“I’m just trying to do right by everyone,” Lily replied in a strange voice. “It feels like I’ve got a lot to make up for.”
“You don’t. He does.”
“Sins of our fathers and all that.”
Ian paused to shove a lock of hair out of his face. “I don’t think it’s meant to be taken so literally. It’s not your job to absolve him of his sins, Lil.”
“You mean like how it’s not your job to solve Mom’s case?”
“It kind of is, though, since I’m a cop.”
“That’s not the same thing, E. You being a cop has nothing to do with you feeling compelled to solve Mom’s case. That’s all you, and I get it, I do. I just want you to know that you can walk away from all of this.”
Ian finished the vegetables and reached for the plate of chicken breasts. “You do realize that it’s a little too late to think of that now? I could’ve done that before I stuck to my guns with Eric.”
“It’s not too late, and no one would blame you for walking away. With everything going on, I’m actually surprised you haven’t.”
Ian wiped his hands on a rag and spun around to lean against the counter. “Between you and me, I’ve actually considered it a few times, but it’s the only thing keeping me sane right now. Since the doctors still don’t know what’s wrong with Lucy, this feels like the only thing in my life I can control.”
He wanted to believe he could steer it toward a good outcome.
Lucy blew out a breath. “I know how you feel. When I first came here, I threw myself into anything and everything that came my way, till I realized it wasn’t a good way to cope. You need to find other ways. When was the last time you made something with your hands?”
“I don’t have time for woodwork.”
“You should make time,” Lily advised, her voice drifting off before it came back stronger than before. “Okay, listen, I’ve got to go call the lawyer. He’s waiting on my call. Let me know how it goes when you’re done.”
Ian had chopped up the chicken and tossed it into a sizzling pan with olive oil when his phone rang again. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans and pressed it to his ear.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Railings. Ms. Alrich got in touch and told me she’s brought you up to speed.”
“I’m going to send you all of the evidence I have,” Ian replied, pausing to set the phone down on the counter. He set it on speaker and picked up the wooden spoon. “I do have to warn you that it’s not much, and I’m not sure how helpful it is. My lawyer told me that it’s all circumstantial.”
“It doesn’t need to be set in stone to grant Ms. Gruntle a divorce. All I need is enough evidence to present to the court to show the kind of man Mr. Taylor is.”
“There’s a newspaper clipping in there too. There were charges brought against Eric when Lily was three or something. It seemed like they had a good case too, till all charges were dropped.”
“I’ve got a friend in the DA’s office. I’ll see if we can dig up more information about what happened.”
Ian’s fingers moved quickly, pulling up the emails Bryce sent. “I’ll send you everything I have right now. You’ll also find a few emails hinting at bribery and jury tampering, but again, I’ve been told none of it is usable in court.”
“I’ll take a look and see what I can come up with.”
“I hope that this goes well for Amy, and please let me know if there’s anything else I can do, Mr. Compton.”
“Thank you for your time and help, Mr. Railings.”
As soon as the line went dead, Ian stood straighter and turned to the folder on the counter. After setting the timer on the oven and stove, he walked over to the counter and skimmed through Logan Vasquez’s case. Having promised to look into it weeks ago, he felt guilty he’d put Olive’s son’s case on the back burner.
With time on his hands and nothing else to do while he waited for dinner and everyone to come home after Christmas shopping, he took the folder into the living room and set it down on the coffee table. Then he went to the fridge, rummaged around, and pulled out a beer. He took a long swig and sat down on the carpeted floor, spreading the papers out in front of him.
He tapped a pen against the side of his head as he skimmed through the information. Unfortunately, given the nature of the crime, and the fact that it happened over twenty years ago, there was very little evidence in the folder. Other than the license plate and model of a car that turned out to be stolen, the police had nothing else to go on.
All these years later, nothing had changed.
Only Olive’s pain and loss remained, haunting her wherever she went.
As much as he wanted to give her some answers and the closure she desperately needed, he was beginning to realize he shouldn’t have promised her anything. High on the hope of his own mother’s case, Ian had imagined a fresh take after years was exactly what Olive needed.
But her son’s case was even more dire than his mom’s.
And as much as Ian hated to admit it, hit-and-runs were notorious for being impossible to solve. Unless the car was found and the driver brought to justice, most of those cases tended to languish and collect dust in the evidence room in the basement. It had taken Ian two dozen donuts and a round of coffee to get the officer in charge to pull up the file.
Ian took another long sip of his beer, and it settled in the pit of his stomach.
He held one of the papers up to the light and squinted.
It felt like the first night he pulled up his mom’s file, like he was failing all over again. Ian pushed away the despair and frustration and rose to his feet. He checked in on the food and wandered back to the living room. With a sigh, he lowered himself onto the floor, tucked his legs underneath him, and pulled out his phone.
Lily answered on the third ring. “Is everything okay? How did it go with the lawyer?”
“As well as can be expected.” Ian took a small sip of his drink and glanced at an unmarked spot on the wall opposite him. “I’m calling about something else. I wanted to ask you a few things about Olive.”
“Ben’s sister?”
“I ran into her the other day, and she looked pretty upset about her son’s case. I’m not sure if offering to look into the case was the right move, but I did it anyway.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate you trying, but from what I understood, there’s nothing to be done. They weren’t able to find the person who did it because the car and license plates were reported stolen.”
“That’s true, and it says here Olive was too distraught to notice anything else about the driver.”
“I’m not sure how much help I can be here, E. I can’t ask Olive because I don’t want to upset her, and I know what Ben told me.”
“So, she hasn’t mentioned anything else?”
“No, I’m sorry. Does the file not have anything else?”
Ian flipped through the paperwork again, a growing sense of impatience rising within him. “No, and it’s very frustrating. I wanted to be able to give her something to hold on to, but I can’t even do that.”
All of his wins for the past few months had been small, too inconsequential to even notice, and it wasn’t lost on Ian. It weighed on him more than he cared to admit, and he had no idea what he was meant to do with the feeling.
“It’s not your fault,” Lily replied, her voice rising toward the end. “You weren’t in charge of the case, and you weren’t the one driving the car. Didn’t you tell me before that hit-and-run cases are harder to solve?”
Ian snapped the folder shut and stood. “Yeah, but I was hoping this one would be different.”
“Have you considered the fact that this is your own frustration with not being able to solve Mom’s case?”
Ian ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, I know it is.”
“Olive won’t hold it against you. No one will. Actually, I think it’ll help just knowing that you tried.”
“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”
“No, Olive’s started therapy at my and Ben’s insistence. It’s going to take some time, but we’re hoping that it’ll help her come to terms with everything. At the very least, it’ll make sure she has the proper tools to process.”
Ian nodded and dusted himself off. “I hope you’re right.”
“I hear Ben calling for me. I’ve got to go. Talk later?”
“Talk to you later.”
Once the line went dead, Ian picked up the folder and took it back upstairs. He shoved it into a drawer in his desk, situated next to the window of their bedroom, and his eyes lingered on the empty sheet of paper there. With a frown, he sat down, pulled his chair closer, and picked up the pen. Ian spent the next few minutes filling out his assignment for therapy, a low thrum in his chest the entire time.
As soon as he set the pen down, the timer went off, and the front door opened, Kelli, Dana, and Dean’s voices merging together. He smiled when he heard Lucy’s voice, struggling to be heard over theirs. Then he was hurrying down the stairs, a smile plastered on his face. He kept the rehearsed smile in place as he hugged his wife and kids and sat down at the kitchen counter to hear about their day.
He thought of his mother the entire time.