Page 61 of Darling

Wendy took off Peter’s jacket and threw it on the ground.

“Is that evidence, or is that yours?” a nearby officer asked.

“Evidence,” Wendy said, stepping away from it and wrapping her arms around herself.

Tinkerbelle, Curly, and Nibs held each other tightly. They had turned completely around and had their backs to Peter, while he gasped through his ruined face.

Another car drove up to the scene recklessly fast, stopping with a loud screech. Detective Hook stepped out and strode quickly across the grass. He eyed Wendy, the boys, and Tinkerbelle warily, but didn’t stop to speak to them. He headed straight for Peter.

As if Peter could sense Detective Hook nearby, he stopped whimpering pathetically and sat very still and silent, his head bowed and still bleeding.

Detective Hook stood over Peter Pan and stared down at him. Then he stooped to one knee, put a meaty hand in Peter’s hair, and wrenched his face up.

“Who did this?” he called out loudly.

No one spoke. It was quiet except for the wind and Curly’s and Tinkerbelle’s grateful weeping.

Wendy began to shiver. She looked around at the officers, but their expressions were stern as they focused on the detective.

Detective Hook wrenched Peter’s head to the left and then to the right as he surveyed the damage Curly had inflicted. His eyes wandered a few feet up to the bar that Curly had tossed down and followed it up to the huddled three.

“It looks like you fell,” Detective Hook said, loud enough for the other officers to hear. Then he leaned close to Peter so only the other officers couldn’t hear him. “Unfortunate,” he growled. “I’ve always known you to be graceful.”

Peter spat at Detective Hook, spraying him with blood spatter. Detective Hook didn’t wipe his cheek; instead he grinned broad and white. Peter gasped involuntarily in pain for a long moment, then he lifted his face of his own volition and met Detective Hook’s grin with one of his own.

“Yes, James Hook, it is all my doing,” Peter wheezed cockily.

“Proud and insolent to the end,” Detective Hook replied. His expression didn’t change as he reached down and grabbed Peter’s jaw with his prosthetic. He yanked Peter’s head, exposing the purpling side of his face to the light of the moon so he could appraise the effects of Curly’s blow.

Peter gasped in agony as the metal ground into his flesh, flinching away from the hand he’d made necessary and the grip that he’d earned.

Curly jolted at the sound, and Nibs and Tinkerbelle held him tighter.

Detective Hook dropped Peter’s face and climbed to his feet. He met the eyes of the officer holding Peter’s arms behind his back. “Take him in.”

CHAPTER 17

The drive to the station was quiet. Detective Hook drove them himself. He let all four of them sit in the back even though there was only room for three, and Wendy was thankful for it. She was still floating above herself, but she didn’t think she could take having to sit next to Detective Hook while he had Peter’s blood and spit on his face, dripping down to stain his white shirt, and drying sticky and dark on his prosthetic.

Nibs, Curly, and Tinkerbelle were so wrapped up in the trauma of their escape, they hadn’t paid Wendy an inch of attention since Curly broke Peter’s jaw. They huddled close together like little rabbits, shaking. Wendy was cold and still dealing with the drama of the night, but she could understand the difference between her terror and the old fear that had lurked in every movement for these kids since she had met them.

Wendy leaned against the car window and tried to relax. Now that the adrenaline of trying to trick a grown man into confessing and the entire night in general was wearing off, she could feel waves of exhaustion on the horizon. The sky was the light purple that was more morning than night, and her stomach was beginning to cramp with hunger from staying up too late.

When they pulled into the precinct parking lot, Wendy opened her eyes, and with a jolt of horror and relief, saw her dad’s car parked in front.

“I think my parents are here,” she said quietly.

Detective Hook looked over his shoulder at her and grunted. He didn’t elaborate; he just parked and unlocked the car. Instead of taking them in the front door, Hook led them through a side door and straight to the room where he had shown Wendy the folders of evidence and Peter’s mug shot. Curly and Nibs were separated from them and taken somewhere else. Wendy stared blankly as an officer removed the wire she was wearing, then went to go sit beside Tinkerbelle, waiting for her to finish having hers removed, as well. Wendy was chilled and sluggish and didn’t feel capable of reacting to anything else tonight.

Tinkerbelle looked much the same. Her blond hair was spiked in all directions from being mussed by Curly and Nibs’s embrace. The circles beneath her eyes were so deep they almost looked like bruises.

When the officer finished removing the tape from the wire and Tinkerbelle had her dress back on and zipped, she trudged over to the seat next to Wendy and flung herself heavily into it. “What a night, huh?” She closed her eyes and dropped her head onto the wall behind her.

“Yeah,” Wendy said, physically incapable of thinking of something better to say.

Tinkerbelle took a deep breath and let it out all at once in a sharp huff. They sat in silence next to each other. A few minutes later, there were the sounds of many feet running.

“You got him!” someone shouted.