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“Go back to sleep, precious. I’ll let your parents know you woke up. They’re here, by the way.”
“They are?”
“Wander called them, and they drove all night to get here. They’re in a hotel now, catching some sleep, but I’ll call them and tell them you woke up. I’m sure they’ll be here when you wake up again.”
Over the next few days, Roman was either sleeping or at the hospital, where Caleb slowly recovered from his ordeal. After five days, he was deemed well enough to go home. Jesse arranged for special transport to Albany—wasn’t it amazing to have money?—and a few hours later, Caleb was tucked into bed in his bedroom. Due to his injuries, Roman didn’t want to sleep next to him yet, scared he’d inadvertently hurt him, and as much as it sucked, Caleb had agreed. His parents had decided to head back home, reassured he would recover, but Caleb had loved having them there.
He was still in a lot of pain, but that was also because he’d refused to take opiates as painkillers any longer than necessary out of fear of getting addicted. Roman didn’t think he was that much at risk, but arguing had proven fruitless, so he’d given up. It was Caleb’s body, after all, and thus, his choice.
“We figured out how they discovered Caleb’s identity,” Wander said one morning as he and Roman were having breakfast together.
“Oh? What was it?”
“His car.”
“I thought he switched cars halfway to and from Boston?”
“He did, but we forgot one crucial detail. Isabella Coldrick had told Joey about her new employee, and Joey, being naturally paranoid, decided to check his background story. So he drove by the address listed, which was Miguel’s, and saw two cars parked. One was Miguel’s and registered to him, but when he ran the other, he discovered it was a rental. That struck him as odd, so he made a call to the rental company and, with some bullshit story, found out that the rental agreement was signed by Dwyer Security.”
“Fuck…” Roman slowly shook his head. “All the trouble Caleb did to create a solid background that would withstand a thorough check and going through the trouble of switching cars, and something as stupid as this tripped him up.”
“Not his fault. This one is entirely on me. It was a gross oversight that could’ve cost him his life.”
“Let’s be grateful he survived.”
“Yeah, but at what cost? I’m not so worried about the physical recovery, though living with one kidney definitely has its limitations, but the psychological effects? He could very well develop PTSD from this.”
Roman had considered the same thing. “I’ve already talked to him about it. He’s starting therapy with a trauma specialist the day after tomorrow. They say the sooner you start talking, the better it is, so we set that up as soon as possible.”
“I will cover the bill.”
“Jesse was way ahead of you, man. That man loves spending his money on us. It’s a weird but welcome experience.”
Wander let out a brief laugh. “He sure does, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Just know that Caleb’s salary is covered, regardless of when and if he gets back to work.”
“If?” Roman snorted. “You know he’s already been on his laptop, right, trying to get into the encrypted files on Isabella’s iCloud?”
“Jesus, why didn’t you take his laptop away? He needs rest.”
“No, he needs to do what he can to keep his mind occupied. If all he can do is think, he’ll be reliving that trauma time and again. It’s better for him to channel his energy into something productive. That’s what the trauma specialist told me.”
“You talked to them?”
“I wanted to know how best to help Caleb through this, so yeah, I did. It was a super useful session, and she’s amazing.”
“Glad to hear it. Any updates on the investigation?”
Roman let out a sigh. “It’s still going through the judicial chain of command, but now that the attorney general has resigned, it’s gonna be even slower.”
The AG had not survived the publicity storm that had erupted once more details about the case had become known. The Boston Globe had put their best reporters on it, probably with an eye on winning another Pulitzer, and had dug deep, finding more and more buried dirt. Two days later, Senator Whitman had resigned his office, citing health reasons, and no one had seen him since. The AG had followed the week after.
Penelope had filed for divorce and stood to make a tidy sum from it because their prenuptial had included a cheating clause for Whitman, but not for her. Since she was able to prove he’d cheated on her, he owed her at least two million dollars. Good for her. Roman didn’t like her, but he had a grudging respect for her survival instincts. And when it had mattered most, she had helped them find Caleb.
“What’s the score now for resignations and terminations?” Wander asked.
“Two Boston PD lieutenants and one captain, one FBI agent, the AG, one administrative clerk, and two legal aides in my office, plus six or so officials at county and city level. And I don’t think it’s over yet. The press is dubbing it spring cleaning, and they’re having a field day with it.”
“Good. Hopefully, this will truly bring a new appreciation for truth and justice, yeah?”
