Archer #2
“He was trying in school, right?” Fletch softens his tone.
He gentles his words and draws both sets of eyes his way.
“He grew up in a bad world, which means he probably saw some bad stuff. Worse, he might’ve tried his hand at those bad things, too.
His dad split before he was born, but he came around a time or two in Ben’s early years.
Then he died, too. He was shot in the street and bled out long before an ambulance was even called. ”
Molly clamps her lips shut, but she can’t stop the way they wobble. The way they bounce and give her away.
“Bad kid turns good-ish. He’s got a reputation around school as a troublemaker. His grades are in the toilet, and his attendance rate is worse. He’s hanging with the wrong crowd.”
“Not only is he hanging with them,” Fletch inserts. “He’s leading them. If anyone wants to take a crap in that school, he knows about it. If anyone even looks at you, he’s gonna find out about it.”
“He liked you. He was enamored by you. The world he came from, the only one he knew, made him hard. He had no choice but to be that way. But you, Molly. You allowed him to soften. You made it okay for him to sign up for an art class. For him to do better during tests. You made it okay for him to actually try, and dammit, he realized there was a way out of that hard world and into something better. Something safer.”
“He saw how your parents did it,” Fletch continues.
“I don’t know if you know, Molly, but on the streets, no matter which crew you belong to, everyone knows everyone.
Everyone knew about everyone else. It’s no secret where your dad came from, and even if he walked, his name would still be on the tongues of those who stayed behind.
Some would call your dad a hero for getting out and staying out.
Others might’ve called him a Nancy. A traitor.
Because leaving the streets, to some, is considered running away.
But no matter what’s said, Ben would’ve known about Grant Freemon long before he was old enough to wipe his own ass.
Then he grows up a bit, he falls in love with Grant’s kid, and holy shit, Molly, life is amazing on this side of the tracks. ”
“Please stop,” she whimpers. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore—”
“He tried, Molly. For you. He pulled himself out of that hell and turned Fs into Bs. He took his non-existent GPA and transformed it into a 3.0. He worked hard, and even if his only motivation was to impress the pretty girl, he still did it.”
“But then he slipped, didn’t he?” I tilt my head to the side and hold her glassy eyes.
“Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal, since he felt above all that mess now.
He’d stolen cars before, and he still got to make a success of himself, so what’s another car?
It’s money in the bank. He’d run pills in the past, and everything worked out okay.
He was fast on his feet and already had contacts, so why not accept another quick job?
A man needs money to start a good life. He needs money to buy a big house and have a family and stay good enough for the good girl. ”
“You need to leave now, Detectives.” Tori folds her arms, showing me exactly who she could be ten years from now. “She asked you to stop. Legally, you have to listen.”
“He asked you to steal the gun from Miranda London, didn’t he, Molly?”
She bursts out in tears, choking on her breath and holding her side when her sob causes her pain.
“Maybe things on the street got a little too hot,” Fletch presses.
“Maybe someone was threatening him. He needed a weapon, couldn’t swipe one from your place, since there are none, but he’d seen Miranda waltzing around the Channel Seventy-Nine studio with hers.
She’s rich. She’s fancy. She can get another, and hell, she’s ditzy enough, she probably wouldn’t even notice hers was missing. ”
Molly digs the back of her head deeper into her pillows. “Please go away.”
“Where’s the gun now?” I ask. “Where’d you hide it?”
“I didn’t—” She shakes her head. No. No. No. No. No. “I didn’t leave the bay, except in an ambulance.”
“Not you.” Smug, I slide my gaze across to Tori. “Where did you hide the gun, Victoria?”
And just like that, her hard stance falters.
“You were at the bay on Monday night, weren’t you?”
“No, I—”
“You should know we have CCTV footage of you together. You and Molly.” I bring my focus back to the first. “Ben called you, didn’t he?
He needed that gun, and you’d swiped it from Miranda.
Your parents checked in on you around ten, like they always do.
You knew you were clear after that until morning.
You snuck out of your house with nothing but the clothes on your back and the gun you were terrified to truly touch.
You didn’t want to handle it. You sure as shit didn’t want to fire it.
But Ben was worried about his life, and dammit, you loved that boy.
So you slipped out and grabbed your bestie on the way.
You went to him. Both of you.” I look at Tori.
“You didn’t want her to go. You nagged her the whole way, bickering and being mean.
Because that’s what you do for someone you love.
You tried to warn her. You tried to stop her.
This could only go bad, and if Ben used that gun to hurt someone else, you knew it would be traced back to Molly. ”
“No,” Molly groans. “That’s not what happened.”
“Shut up,” Tori snaps. “You’re wrong, Detective.”
“When the shit went down,” Fletch picks up my metaphorical ball and runs with it.
“When shots rang out and Ben hit the ground, when Molly was hurt, and the police were on the way, you took the weapon and ran with it, didn’t you?
To save your best friend, to keep her out of trouble, you bolted and tossed it. ”
“No! That’s not what—”
“You were acting protectively. Both of you. Tori was protecting Molly, and Molly,” I look at her, “You were protecting Ben. He got in over his head with a crowd he no longer really fit in with. He’d softened in the last year.
Grew comfortable in a world that was a little less dangerous.
He was in trouble, and he needed someone to have his back. ”
“Admitting you stole the gun will get you nothing more than a court appearance and a stern talking to by a judge.” Fletch checks his watch, like we have somewhere else to be.
Somewhere better. “You have a fantastic record, your grades are spectacular, your internship comes with glowing references, and… Ben is dead.” He stops and sighs.
“He won’t mind taking the blame for this one. ”
“You tell the judge he told you to steal it, and that stern talking to is downgraded to a shake of the judge’s head.
Ben himself is the only casualty of what could have been a much larger war.
He could’ve started something huge. Tell the judge why he asked you to steal it, tell us who shot him, and this case will be closed. ”
“He deserves to be laid to rest.” Fletch softens his expression. “He deserves this to be packed away, and for his killer to be put behind bars.”
“It’s laughable how wrong you are.” Tori’s eyes burn with a stubbornness that’ll get her in trouble someday.
A fire she’ll have to learn to control, or the lawyer arguing against her client will eat her up long before the jury can get a word in.
“You have no friggin’ clue what you’re talking about. ”
“Tori wasn’t there.” Molly’s chest shudders, her face screwing up in pain as she sets her hands on the bed and tries to push up straighter. “She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Except that she fled the scene of a crime.”
“Even if that were true—”
“Molly!”
“Even if that were true,” she repeats, closing her eyes and breathing through the pain radiating up through her torso. “It’s such an insignificant detail in a much larger issue. It hardly requires a footnote on your files.”
“So, answers for immunity?” I dial in on her first admission and try not to smile too wolfishly. “You want to deal, and so long as Tori’s name is left out, you’d be willing to tell us who shot at you and Ben?”
“You don’t deal on my behalf!” Tori turns on her friend, doing that thing best friends do. The eyes. The stare. “You won’t make a deal to save me, Molly.”
“That’s what she does,” Fletch counters arrogantly.
“She protects the people she loves. Because maybe you’re a good girl, Molly, raised on a good suburban street with parents whose only goal was to shield you from the cruel things thrown at you in life.
But you’re still Grant Freemon’s daughter.
His first-born child. He smoothed the way and stood in front of you every chance he could, but damn if he didn’t tell you what was important.
Loyalty. Protection. Love. He taught you to help those who needed help, and he made damn sure you never judged the kids who come from the other side of town. He was one of those kids, after all.”
“Your dad went back to that world today, Molly.”
Stunned, her eyes flare wide. “What?”
“He wants to know who targeted you. He wants names, and he wants revenge.” I hold her eyes and press the reality of what comes next if she keeps her secrets.
“Like Ben, your dad busted his ass and broke away from that world. He made something of himself. Found success and happiness. He created a beautiful family and stayed legit. But…” I shrug.
“Like Ben, he slipped. Every man has a line. A limit. And when you got caught up at the bay this week, your dad found his.”
“No, he…” Fresh, fat tears squeeze from the corners of her eyes. “He didn’t.”