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The questions he begins with are tame and a rehash of basic, almost get-to-know-you information. And then comes the fun stuff.
“So, Carpenter. You’re saying that the drugs were in your vehicle but that you have no idea how they got there. Is that correct?”
This is it. Does Jacob finger the brother or revert to playing dumb? My stomach is still queasy from that overnight phone call. Neither approach is a get-out-of-jail-free card, but at least one gives him a shot at a workable defense.
Hollie, beautiful as ever, looks to be holding her breath too.
I wish I could be holding her.
Jacob’s gaze falls. His body shifts. Gut instinct constricts my stomach.
“Carpenter? Is that your story?”
The air stills. He looks the big guy in the eye. “No. No, it’s not.”
The relief I want to feel doesn’t come. Something in his expression…
Squaring up to the detective, he juts his chin. “The drugs were mine. All of it was mine.”
“Jacob!” Hollie launches from the chair. Ben cautions her with a hand on her arm.
Tripp wheels to me. “Did he just say—”
I jerk a nod. Oh, he said it alright.
Ben turns to the kid. “Jacob? This is not what you’ve previously told me, your mother, or anyone else.”
Jacob’s normal coloring has been washed out. He looks scared and sick and—like he’s lying.
So. Not only does he not finger the brother, he also abandons the song and dance of having no knowledge whatsoever of the drugs. Yes, this is plan C, and it’s the worst one yet.
Ben grips the kid’s beefy arm and speaks into his ear. Jacob yanks away. “I am telling the truth!”
Adamant, but not convincing. Surely the detective can see it.
The large man sits back, hands propped on his strikingly large belly. “Tell me more, son.”
Anger flares in Jacob’s eyes. “Don’t call me that!”
Yep, I could have told the guy not to push that button withthisboy, and certainly notthisweek.
“Alright. Let’s talk about this. After weeks of claiming to know nothing of the drugs or the gun, then claiming it belonged to an acquaintance, now, today, you’re telling me all of it was yours. Do I have that straight?”
Jacob’s eyes shift before he nods. “That’s right.”
Wrong.Anyone can see it.
“You do realize you’re confessing to multiple felonies here, don’t you, Carpenter?”
Another nod.
“And you’re still certain?”
Ben and Hollie, horrified, look on. Ben cautions Jacob to say no more, but the kid’s got as much wax or garbage in his ears as the day I met him, and he reaffirms his answer. “Why are you giving me a hard time? I told you what you want to hear.”
Little hauls himself forward in the seat. “You might be surprised what I want, Carpenter. Ordinarily, I live for confessions…but there’s just one problem here.”
Tears pooling in Hollie’s eyes signal her heartbreak. I want to wrap her in my arms, hold her to my chest. Make no mistake: I will when this is over.
