“So, Clem…what’s this I hear about you starting up some kind of apprenticeship program for kids with an interest in mechanics?”
“Yeah, Hugo mentioned something about that,” Savvy contributes.
Since the only person I’ve spoken to about my idea is Tessa, I shoot a questioning look at her.She winces and mouths,“Sorry.”
“For what it’s worth, I think it’s a great idea,” Brant volunteers.“If you need any help, I wouldn’t mind giving you a hand.”
“Yeah, if you’re sure.I’d love to sit down with you at some point and talk it through.”
The funny thing is, I’d already thought of picking his brain about some of the logistics of actually setting a program like that up.Brant’s involvement would lend it instant credibility.
“I’ve got the time,” he reminds me.
It’s not until we pull into Tessa’s driveway, a couple of hours later, she revisits the subject.
“Are you mad?I brought up your idea in the briefing with Mancuso last week, and I meant to tell you about it, but I totally forgot.I know I spoke out of turn, but we were just talking about what would happen to those boys after, and your idea fit so perfectly into the void those kids otherwise would drop into, I?—”
I silence her with a hand at the back of her neck and my mouth covering hers.
“Not mad,” I assure her, resting my forehead against hers.“Lucky…I have a woman I love advocating for me.No, I’m not mad at all.”
“You love me?”
I grin.“You couldn’t tell?”
Chapter30
Tessa
“I don’t seewhy I have to come.”
I glance at Remi, sitting in the passenger seat and stubbornly staring out the window.
“Listen, kiddo.As I told you at home, I think it’s important you pay your respects to a boy who wasn’t as fortunate as you were and paid for his mistakes with his life.Consider it penance, and count yourself lucky attending his celebration of life is the extent of consequences for you.”
When he persists in glaring out the window, I add in a softer tone, “And Remi—hand to heart—I hope this cures you from ever,evermaking stupid choices like that again, because I don’t think I could survive if anything ever happened to you.”
He reacts to that last comment with a brief flash of his eyes in my direction.The mumbled,“Sorry,”is barely audible.
The rest of the drive to Mead is silent, each of us left to our own thoughts.
Mine drift to the conversation I had with Clem this morning before he left for the firehouse.He’d offered again to accompany us, as he’d done last night, when I first brought up the celebration of life, but as much as I appreciate the support he’s offering, I felt it important Remi and I do this together.I’m hoping the shared experience may heal some of the strain on our relationship, rebuild the trust.
From what I understand, his body was cremated quietly a few weeks ago.Ryan’s mother had wanted to wait with a service for him until charges were brought against her son’s killer.That happened last week, when one of the other kids involved in the car theft ring supplied the final nail in Doyle Benjamin’s coffin.
The boy confessed Ryan told him, the night he stole the Mustang, he didn’t want to do it and was thinking of going to the police.This kid struggled with the information for a while but ultimately notified Doyle Benjamin that Ryan was about to spill the beans on his organization.
That testimony, along with Remi’s and Everett Shirk’s should be enough to prove Benjamin’s guilt in at least Ryan’s murder.
It’s been weird for me, being sidelined on a case of this magnitude, but in hindsight I’m glad I was spared the aftermath: the parent notifications, the interviews with those poor misguided kids, torn between being victims and being perpetrators.
It would’ve taken a toll on me, and I need to focus on my own child, which I’m doing by confronting him with the brutal reality of what could’ve easily happened to our family.
Is it a harsh lesson?You bet it is.
Am I afraid I’ll further traumatize him?The answer is yes to that as well, but I will do whatever it takes to make absolutely sure Remi owns his part in this case, and understands his own responsibility.I don’t want to allow him to make excuses for what he did, he needs to feel it in his bones, so he’ll never fall into that trap again.
I spot Steve Haynes from the Spokane County Sheriff’s Department the moment we walk in to the Mead Community Center.He’s standing close to the stage at the front, next to a short, dark-haired woman I immediately recognize as Pam Wells, Ryan’s mother, even though I’ve never met her.Her boy looked just like her.
