Chapter 21 Blake #2
“Is that what they’re calling it?” She waved me off and started digging through a pile of folders. “My granddaughter has an account, but she goes by some other name. I don’t know how anyone is supposed to know who she is when she’s listed as a songbird.”
Chuckling, I leaned against the counter. “So, listen, Bea, I was thinking—”
“That you needed another file,” she said, handing one over.
“How did you know?” I flipped through it, shocked to find the same information as before.
“Well, honey, your house burned down. I assumed you didn’t stop to collect the murder investigation on the way.”
“There was no time for that.”
She huffed, continuing her work. “Murder robots. What is this world coming to?”
“I suppose it could have been worse.”
“In what way?” She leaned hard on the stack, whispering conspiratorially. “My grandson said that he heard of this gadget called a hoverboard. Now, I don’t know what that is, but it sounds dangerous. And apparently, people can buy them.”
It took everything in me to stifle my laughter. “Yes. You can buy them.”
“And you just roll around town on them. I’ll tell you what, if this thing goes nuts by Christmas, we’re going to have complaints out the wazoo.”
“Perhaps, you should put the town on notice.”
“That’s not a bad idea. Maybe we could ban them from the city streets.”
“I think the kids would use them on sidewalks.”
She snorted in amusement at that. “Just imagine Mrs. Butterworth nearly getting run over. Or worse! Mrs. Abernathy. Lord, we’d never hear the end of it.”
“The station would be filled,” I chuckled.
“So, how did the honeymoon go? I know there were no babies made, but I’m sure you still found a way to have some fun.”
If she only knew how horrible the honeymoon really was.
“It was nice,” I lied through my teeth.
“You weren’t gone very long. Trouble in paradise?”
“No, just wanted to get home.”
“I heard about that house on wheels you bought. I’m not sure it’s suitable for a baby—”
“It’s only until the house is finished. It’s actually quite an adventure,” I grinned. “And watching Parker walk around in it has been hilarious.”
“I bet. That man is too tall for his own good.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I went along with it anyway.
“So, I’m sure you heard about what happened last night.”
“Oh, with Wesley?” Pursing her lips, it was clear she wasn’t happy about any of it. “That poor kid. His parents should be in jail instead of him.”
“I’ve heard some rumors, but what’s the deal with them?”
Glancing around, she lowered her voice. “Well, to be honest, they never wanted kids. Neither of them was prepared to care for another human being, let alone an animal. When Wesley came along, it seemed like it might be okay at first. But after the shininess of a new baby wore off and reality kicked in, those people just tossed that kid off to whoever would take him. Honestly, the town raised him for the first few years of his life.”
“And after that?”
“When he started school, things changed.” She sighed heavily.
It was clear that whatever happened to that kid was tragic.
“He started getting in fights, and then he’d go home and…
well, you’d think his father would care.
But honestly, he never did a damn thing.
That boy has been on his own since the day he was born. Just running wild.”
“What about now?” I asked, chewing on my lip.
“Stuck in jail. His father said he was tired of bailing him out. Without someone to release him to, he’s just sitting there. Well, until he gets transferred to juvie.”
“Seriously? They’re going to transfer him to a detention center?”
“There’s nothing else to do,” she shrugged. “That kid has been in so much trouble, and his parents won’t take responsibility for him.”
“I don’t understand how that’s possible. They’re responsible in every way!”
“Yes, but because of the amount of trouble he’s been in…I’m afraid no judge will release him after what happened last night.”
“That’s insane,” I muttered to myself. “There has to be a way to help him.”
“Sadly, with his parents, that kid is probably going to end up in prison. That’s the way the world works. Like it or not.”
Like it or not.
Was that really what happened in a small town like this?
Did everyone just give up on this kid because he caused trouble?
He’d stolen my purse and I’d caught him trying to squat in someone’s home, but he was just a kid.
That didn’t mean he was beyond redemption.
Wasn’t anyone going to turn things around for him?
“I want to see him.”
Chuckling, she gathered a pile of papers and slammed them through the stapler. “I’m afraid not. Family only.”
“Seriously? But…I’m Parker’s wife, and he works here. Surely, there’s a way around this.”
Eyeing me carefully, I knew whatever she was about to say would only be a hassle. “You know, the boys in this station just love a good pie.”
“Pie,” I repeated.
“Hmm,” she nodded. “All kinds of pies. Why, the last time someone brought in pie, they were all so distracted, they nearly missed a call. Not that it was important. Just another neighborly dispute, but you should have seen the way those boys went after that pie.”
It was ridiculous. Absolutely insane. I was going to have to bribe everyone in the station with pie, and all so I could have a few minutes alone with this kid.
“Thanks for the file, Bea.”
“Oh, any time.” Her eyes flicked to the clock, and then she shot me a pointed look.
“Yeah, I get it,” I grumbled as I walked out the door.
Pie. That’s what it came down to in this town. Live and die by pie.
Getting in my car, I headed down Winding Road to Main Street, creeping along at a snail’s pace as I checked out every store, looking for the damn bakery.
There was a candy store, an old-fashioned ice cream parlor, a coffee shop, and even a Gentleman’s store.
But was there a bakery? Not a single one.
Which left me with the diner. I had to hope and pray they had pies, otherwise, my choice was to drive to the nearest town, which I was pretty sure was over forty minutes away.
Parking in front of the diner, I was relieved when I walked through the front door and saw a case filled with pies. “Thank God.”
“Morning, darlin’. What can I get for you?”
Glancing at her name tag, I smiled brightly. Cora. “Good morning, Cora. I need pies. Lots and lots of pies.”
“Oh, dear. May I ask for what?”
“To distract everyone at the sheriff’s office so I can sneak in back and talk to a prisoner.”
Her brows pinched thoughtfully, and for a moment, I thought I was sunk. “Well, you’re going to need a French Silk pie for Remi. Nothing else will distract him quite as much. Maverick will need a cherry pie.”
I grimaced, hoping that wasn’t some kind of innuendo.
“Wayne is pretty classic. He likes apple.”
“Okay, I can do all that.”
“But Bea is the one you really have to get right. And her appetite changes with the seasons.”
“But…she’s the one who told me to get pie for the deputies,” I frowned.
“Precisely, which means she’s in the mood,” she smirked.
“Okay, well, I guess I’ll take all of those.”
Resting her elbow on the counter, she grinned at me. “Honey, aren’t you forgetting someone?”
I thought through all the staff. There were so many others, but was I really expected to get pie for all of them? “I mean, I guess I need to buy for the secretaries.”
“Honey, they’re easy enough to handle. I’m talking about that man of yours.”
“Parker?”
“That would be the one.”
I stared at her, completely blank. “Um…”
“You don’t know his favorite pie, do you?” Letting out a bark of a laugh, she tossed her head back. “Well, we’ll go with his childhood favorite and hope for the best. Blueberry it is.”
What kind of horrible wife was I that I didn’t know my husband’s favorite pie? God, I really sucked at being a wife.
“Give me a few minutes to pack this up. In the meantime…” She reached behind her and poured a to-go cup of coffee for me. “On the house.”
“Thank you.”
I was perfectly fine with bribery, but I had a feeling this was a tad excessive. Still, it would be worth it to get a few minutes alone with the prisoner.
When it was all packaged up, she helped me out to the truck with all my pies, wishing me luck before I drove off. The moment Bea saw me arrive in front of the station, she hurried out, a greedy look gleaming in her eyes.
“Ooh, the boys are going to be so excited.”
“Well, don’t think I left you out. I hear lemon meringue is the choice of the season.”
Winking, she snatched that particular box, which I had no doubt would be stashed behind the counter for her.
We spread the pies out on the tables, and Bea took over, announcing the arrival of the goodies. The tables were flocked immediately, but my dear husband wasn’t quite as quick to jump in.
“So, you bought pie for everyone.”
Shrugging, I looked up at him, pretending I was just being a good wife. “Well, I wanted to support you, and Bea said pie is the way to everyone’s hearts around here.”
“Suck up,” he grinned, brushing his lips over mine.
“I got you a blueberry pie.”
His eyes widened in hunger before flicking over to the table.
“Better hurry if you don’t want everyone else to get it.”
He was gone in a second. I slunk back toward the jail when I saw Bea holding out her hand, with the keys dangling from her fingertips.
Just a few minutes later, I was inside the jail alone with the kid, and he didn’t look too happy to see me.
“What the fuck do you want?” he growled.
“Wesley, isn’t it?”
“What’s it to you?”
Stepping closer, I leaned against a nearby cell, pretending I had all the time in the world. “So, is this something you like to do? Steal purses? Break into houses?”
“That house was supposed to be vacant,” he argued.
“And that makes a difference?”
He shrugged, not bothering to look at me.
“So, what made you want to break into that house?”
“Does it matter?”
“Maybe.”
Scoffing, the kid looked up at me with disdain. “Why? Because then you’ll feel bad for me? You’ll want to help me and change my life? Save it for someone who wants your pity,” he spat.
This kid was hurting. I’d seen it a lot growing up. Kids who were neglected, but couldn’t trust another person to follow through on any promises. And the sad thing was that no matter how hard anyone tried, it would be nearly impossible to get through to a kid who had been ignored his whole life.
“What if I could get you out of here?”
He snorted. “Big deal.”
“You would rather go to juvenile detention?”
His shoulders tensed slightly, but that was the only sign that he really didn’t want to leave his home.
“I mean, if we don’t figure something out, the judge will send you there, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Yeah? So what?”
“Then again, there’s a possibility I could get temporary guardianship. It would require a court date to make it more permanent—”
“If I even wanted that,” the kid snapped, glaring at me. “What makes you think I’d want to stay with you?”
“Well, it seems like a better deal than staying in a jail with miscreants worse than you. Court-ordered therapy, spilling your guts to all those adults who really don’t give a shit, and then there are all the other kids just as twisted, if not worse than you.
Oh, and the jail cell you’ll have to sleep in. Yeah, that sounds like loads of fun.”
He shifted uncomfortably on the bench, probably weighing the pros and cons of his stubbornness.
“Then again, I could be wrong. Have fun in jail.”