For You (The 'Burg Series) (51 page)

See you later, love you, babe.

He knew she’d been preoccupied when she said it, slipping back into a very old habit.

He also didn’t fucking care.

He flipped his phone shut, shoved it in his back jeans pocket, grabbed his muffin and entered the Station smiling.

* * * * *

The phone on his desk rang; Colt picked it up, put it to his ear, looked at the name on the display on the desk set and said into the handset, “What’s up, Kath?”

“Colt, Amy Harris’s folks just walked in. I put them in the conference room.”

Fuck.

He knew they’d arrived yesterday from Arizona to start making arrangements for the funeral. Yesterday, with Colt mostly out of commission, Sully had dealt with them, making an appointment for them to come and talk with Colt today at two o’clock.

Now it was today and it was fucking two o’clock.

“Do me a favor, ask them if they want coffee, get it for them if they do and I’ll be down in a minute.”

“No probs, Colt,” she said and he put the phone down.

Kath was a civilian and she worked the front desk. She had a dickhead of a husband and five kids, all of them heathens. She did her best but, the Dad they had, her kids acted out anyway, as often as they could and they were creative. When they advertised the job for the front desk, she applied for it, telling them it was a way to spend some time with her family since all of them, including her husband, sat in a cell on more than a rare occasion. They gave her the job, mostly because she was a good woman, dependable, smart and, not including her husband, her family was a good family, deep down. They just had a lot of shit to get out and, until Kath grew a backbone and kicked her husband out on his ass, she needed all the help she could get.

Colt stood, pulled his blazer from his chair and shrugged it on. He was about to turn to the stairs when Sully walked up.

“Candy Sheckle’s on her way in,” Sully told him.

Colt’s brows went up. “Of her own accord?”

“She had a shift at the club last night, just turned her phone on and, minute the Feds asked, she said she’d drop her kid off at her Mom’s and be right in.”

“That’s helpful,” Colt remarked, surprised.

“Super duper helpful,” Sully returned, equally surprised.

“That’ll be an interesting interview.”

Sully smiled. “Can’t fuckin’ wait. You gonna watch?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“See you there, I’ll bring the popcorn.”

Colt shook his head and went to the stairs.

The minute he saw Mr. and Mrs. Harris, seated but huddling together in the conference room, he knew why Craig had to carry Amy into the house, not to mention why Amy was petite. Her parents were both small. He didn’t recall either of them but, if they were as quiet and reserved as their daughter, he doubted he ever saw them but in passing and probably wouldn’t notice them.

“They didn’t want coffee, Colt. The Mom drinks tea. You want me to run down to Mimi’s?” Kath asked as he passed.

“You’d do that, it’d be appreciated,” Colt replied, not taking his eyes from the Harrises.

“No trouble,” Kath said and took off.

Mr. Harris caught his gaze while Colt made his way to the conference room. This would be difficult for more than the normal reasons. He had no intention of sharing. They didn’t need to know their daughter went through what she went through. Still, he knew it and knowing it meant this was going to be far from easy.

He opened the door, Mrs. Harris twisted and looked up at him and Colt nodded to the both of them.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Harris. Mr. Harris.”

Mr. Harris stood, reaching out and taking a big, yellow envelope from the table.

Without leading into it, he asked, “Can we talk privately, son?”

Colt looked at the envelope then to Mr. Harris who looked like hell then to Mrs. Harris who surprised him. She was gazing at him steady, straight in the eye. She looked sad but she also looked thoughtful and there was a softness to her eyes that Colt thought looked immensely kind.

Colt knew then that this was going to be more than an interview with grieving parents to ascertain if their daughter did, indeed, commit suicide so that he could file away her case, nice, neat and cozy.

This was going to be something he was going to like a lot less even than he expected. And he expected to fucking hate every second.

“This room is private, Mr. Harris. No one can –” Colt started.

“No eyes,” Mrs. Harris cut in, her own eyes going to the windows.

Fuck.

“Of course,” Colt said, turning to open the door and gesturing through it with his arm.

He led them up to interrogation room one, giving Sully a look and lifting his hand with his index finger extended to indicate he was taking interrogation one. Sully followed them with his eyes until he lost sight. Colt saw part of it and knew the other.

He opened the door to interrogation one and held it for the Harrises to walk through. He followed them and closed it behind him. Mr. Harris walked to the table. Mrs. Harris stood by the door.

Before he could speak, Mr. Harris put the envelope on the table and said, “We’ll give you a moment of privacy to read this, Alexander.”

Alexander.

Mr. Harris wasn’t talking to Lieutenant Colton. He was establishing the fact that he was Colt’s elder, he was doing it gently but he was the authority figure in this scenario. But it wasn’t authority he was communicating even though it wasn’t Colt’s daughter who hung herself. Mr. Harris was making a point of conveying he was there to provide support.

No, Colt wasn’t going to fucking like this.

Colt was looking at Mr. Harris therefore it came as a surprise when he felt Mrs. Harris’s fingers curl around his forearm. Colt’s eyes went to her, she gave him a small, sad smile, squeezed his arm and then Mr. Harris touched her shoulder, gave Colt a nod, Colt moved away from the door and they left.

Colt walked to the envelope, feeling a bit of Ryan’s pain. Whatever was inside could easily grow teeth and bite him.

There was nothing written on the front, the back was clasped but not sealed. Amy was long past keeping any secrets. Colt opened the clasp and slid the papers out from inside, bent his head and read Amy Harris’s suicide note:

Colt,

This is too late, I know, way too late. But I want you to know I’m sorry. I should have said it years ago but I didn’t and you deserve to know why. You deserve to know everything.

I don’t know how much you do know, or you remember, but I think it’s not much from what I’ve heard and because, even after, when you saw me, you’d still smile at me. But this will explain things, I hope.

It was me who tore you and Feb apart. Me and Denny.

I didn’t mean to be a part of it. I didn’t even know I was. But, in the end, I had to be.

Denny knew I liked you. I told him a long time ago. A high school crush. We were good friends, Denny and I. I talked about you, he talked about Feb. He liked her a whole lot. Said she was special and they had a special friendship but it was secret. You couldn’t know or, he said that Feb told him, you’d be angry. Now, I don’t think this was true, but then I believed him.

It happened after that, though. You’d graduated from Purdue and we were all pretty much waiting for you two to get married. But Denny came home from Northwestern and talked to me and told me Feb had told him that things weren’t going too good between you two. Feb was going to break up with you and it would soon be over. I guess I wasn’t over my crush on you, in the end, the way things turned out. I guess that’s why I did what I did. I keep trying to figure it out and that’s what I’ve come up with.

Denny talked me into going to that party at the Eisenhowers. Do you remember it? I’m sure you do. Denny told me to “live a little”. Normally, I wouldn’t go but when I talked to Emily, she said it would be fun. She was always trying to get me to go out. So, we went.

I wish, Colt, so much over the years, you have to know, I wish I hadn’t.

I saw you there, you and Feb, and it didn’t seem Denny knew what he was talking about. You two seemed fine to me, like normal, like always.

Later that night, Denny brought me a drink, said I needed to “loosen up”. I wasn’t much of a drinker, never was. It hit me, what he brought me, real fast. I thought it was just a beer but I don’t think it was. I couldn’t know for sure, but, at the time, I just thought I was a lightweight, getting drunk on a few sips of beer.

Denny saw me going funny and told Emily he’d take care of me. What a laugh. Denny taking care of me. But I didn’t know then and neither did Emily. We both thought he was my friend. Some friend.

He took me upstairs and said I should just lie down for awhile. I don’t remember it all, bits here and there, I felt so strange, like I wasn’t me. I thought he was being nice, taking care of me, a good friend. Friends don’t do what he did to me. They don’t. But I wouldn’t know that until later, when I learned Denny was not my friend at all.

At first, I didn’t even know you were in the bed he put me in. And Colt, I swear, I promise and I swear, I don’t know how it started. But, I think I started it. I wasn’t thinking, I don’t know what I was doing. I just started kissing you. You were there and you were Colt and I think I started kissing you. I was so drunk or whatever, it’s all so fuzzy, you didn’t kiss me back, or you did, I don’t know. It didn’t hit me until later that you weren’t acting like you, you were acting like me. Like you were drunk or whatever. This is terrible and embarrassing but you have to know because I think I took advantage of you. We were moving around and somehow I got you on top of me and I liked it. I’m sorry, but I liked it, it’s just the truth and you deserve to know the truth.

That’s when Feb walked in.

I knew Denny was lying when I saw the look on her face. It was like she just learned someone she’d loved had died. Even being messed up, I’ll never forget the look on her face.

Before I could say anything, she was gone and you were on top of me and I couldn’t get you off. You’d passed out and you were so big, so heavy, I couldn’t move you.

Then Denny was there, in the room, and I know he was in the room the whole time. He saw the whole thing. He was laughing, thought it was funny. I was trying to think straight, get you off me, get to Feb. I asked him to help me but he just kept laughing, saying, “Now it’s over. Now it’s over.” He said it again and again. He sounded so happy. I knew he wasn’t right then. I knew it. Really not right. But I didn’t see it, couldn’t think straight. Not until later, what he did to me and then, a lot later, what he did to Angie.

I got you off and I couldn’t get untangled from the sheets, I was so muddled, and I just gave up and started crying. Craig was there then and he was so mad at Denny and I was lucky, for once, because Craig took care of me. He took care of you and me.

That was hard but this is harder because you have to know why I didn’t say anything. Why I didn’t tell you or Feb what happened.

The next day, my folks went to church and Denny came over. I felt sick, from what happened and from whatever he gave me and trying to figure out what I’d say to you and Feb. That’s why I didn’t go to church with them. But, even if I wasn’t like that, I still couldn’t have fought him. I did fight him, but I didn’t win.

He hurt me, Colt. Right in the living room of my own home. He told me I couldn’t tell you or Feb what happened. “Don’t you fucking open your mouth,” he said. I’ll never forget it, those words, the way he said them. He wasn’t a Denny I knew. But I told him I was going to tell you and he got mean, then meaner, then he hurt me, Colt. In the worst way. The very worst way.
 

Colt pulled in breath then sat down in a chair.

He didn’t violate Amy and he didn’t have a son.

He’d been right. Denny had raped her.

The first didn’t make him feel better because he now knew the last.

He ran his fingers through his hair and then curved them around the back of his neck, squeezing tight, his eyes closed, the papers in his hand, Amy’s words, written in pretty, neat handwriting. He wondered how many times she wrote and rewrote them. Or if she just poured it out and sent it to her parents. The writing was too neat and he knew she’d practiced.