The pulsing of the monitor, a series of steady soft beeps, underscored their conversation. Bobby Land, eyes closed, was motionless, resting on two white-cased pillows.
“Maybe the check isn’t the point.” Jake pictured that Vernon Street crime scene, not far from HQ. A crumbling curb, scraggly trees and battered chain-link fence surrounding a vacant lot, a trash-littered expanse soon to be cleaned up for additional police parking. It was just out of HQ’s surveillance camera range and not quite to the cameras of the nearby Ruggles T stop. Who could have known that?
“Hewlitt’s a surveillance guy, remember?” Jake answered his own question, keeping his eyes on Bobby Land.
“He could have known the camera’s scope,” Jake went on. “Picked that very spot on purpose. Waited there. He knew the kid was leaving HQ, might have even asked if he was taking the T. The kid is… a kid, after all. He’s not going to be suspicious. Plus, they’d just handed him five thousand bucks. And who else would have known Bobby was even there?”
DeLuca shrugged. “Maybe he called someone.”
“From what phone?” Jake thought back. Had he seen Land with a phone at Curley Park? When he’d brought him in? Shit. No idea. Land wasn’t a suspect, so no one had searched him or inventoried property. Now he appeared to be a robbery victim, but they had no idea if anything was missing.
The beeps continued, punctuating Jake’s thoughts. The incident might have been random, sure. Some mugger, seeing a skinny white kid alone after dark, decides to take advantage of a vulnerable victim and just see what he-or she, fine, but most likely not-could get.
“But why?” DeLuca said. “Why would Hewlitt give him a check, then beat him up?”
“Think about it, D. True or not, Hewlitt thinks Bobby Land saw what happened in Curley Park. And does not want him to tell. That’s the key to this whole thing. Hewlitt crushed the camera’s memory card, but he couldn’t wipe out Bobby Land’s real memory. See where I’m going with this?”
DeLuca shook his head, disagreeing. “Land’ll be able to ID his attacker. Narrow it down, at least. If it was Hewlitt? He’d have some idea. Maybe it was someone Hewlitt called in?”
“You watch too much TV,” Jake said. TV. Jane. He needed to-they needed to-
A series of high-pitched demanding beeps. An alarm. Jake stood, turned to the stack of monitors, three beige metal boxes scaffolded to the wall on a floor-to-ceiling aluminum rod. Each had wires and tubes connecting to the body on the bed.
“Damn,” Jake said. “Go get a doc-”
“On it,” D said.
The beeps stopped, their sound coalescing into a piercing one-note tone. Jake, now alone with the victim in his curtained cubicle, watched the jagged electronic line of Bobby Land’s heartbeat plummet to the bottom of the screen.
26
Tenley shoved one more gray T-shirt into her nylon gym bag, a black shoulder-strapped tote with mesh pockets on the sides and zippered pouches at each end. If you don’t have time to take everything, the thought had crossed her mind, it’s almost better to take nothing. She had to move ahead. Start over. Maybe Brileen could help. She closed her eyes, regrouping, shaking off the residual anger from the fight with her mom. Her stupid mother would be happier with her gone, no freaking question about that. She was a little bummed she wouldn’t be seeing Dr. Maddux anymore, he’d done his best to help. He never told her what to do, or criticized her, or even brought up Lanna, unless she did it on her own. She was also pretty much burning her bridges with the work thing, but she wouldn’t miss Ward Dahlstrom. And it wasn’t like that was her life ambition, to sit in front of a computer. So.
She paused. Hearing the silence. Feeling like-good-bye.
So many memories in this room. She’d grown up here, sleeping in this twin bed, which once had a flouncy pink princess bedspread and ruffled pillows. She’d dumped the fluff for plain white sheets when she turned fifteen, since her mom wouldn’t let her get black ones. Her once-treasured collection of stuffed animals was relegated to plastic bags on the upper shelf of the closet, the latest incarnations of music and movie posters thumb-tacked to the blue speckled wallpaper. Kurt, for vintage. Katy, for power. Keanu in the old Matrix. She’d gotten in big trouble for the thumb tacks, but then her father realized it was easier to leave the posters up than to rip them down and repair the wallpaper. Now her parents could do whatever they wanted with the room. She was done with it.
A knock at her bedroom door startled her. Tenley lifted her chin and turned away. She’d locked her door, of course. Locking her mother out of her room, locking her mother out of everything, locking herself in until she wanted to get out. That would be soon. Very very soon.
Another knock. Louder. “Tenley?”
Tenley pictured her mom, all freaking out. Upset. Too much wine made her face all puffy, though she was always fine by morning. Now she probably wanted to say she was sorry. But Tenley wasn’t sorry, and she wasn’t about to let her mother off the hook. Her mother wanted her gone. Her dad did, too. She only reminded them of their darling Lanna.
Now they could avoid all that complicated stuff. Forget about her. Starting now.
She didn’t answer.
“Tenley? I know you’re in there. Listen, honey?” her mother said. “I know we need to talk, I really do. But I have to go out. It’s a work thing.”
Tenley frowned. That was the last thing she expected to hear. Her mother had to go out? At this hour? It was, like, midnight. Or later. What work thing? Why? But if she asked, she’d have to talk. And she refused to have a conversation. She didn’t care about it that much. Her mother could go wherever she wanted.
I hope she’s not driving, Tenley thought.
She pressed her lips together, reminding herself not to care, and not to answer. It didn’t matter where her mother was going. And, all in all, it might make Tenley’s life a lot easier. Things were finally working out.
Catherine stood in the hallway, shoulders sagging, tears welling. The phone in her hand almost felt hot from the call she’d just received. It was well after midnight. Could it not wait? It was all too much. How much could she be expected to handle?
She’d try one more time to connect with her daughter. Then she had to go. If her husband was so concerned about Tenley, where the hell was he now? She’d feel better about leaving if Greg were home. If Greg were anywhere she could find.
“Tenley, it’s important. I know you’re angry, I now you’re upset and…” I’m sorry. The words stuck in her throat, but an adult had to make the first move. This was her daughter. Her only remaining daughter. “I’m sorry, Tenner. I don’t want us to be upset with each other. I know it’s horribly late, but I have to go. Okay?”
Silence.
She paused, flattening one palm against the white-painted wood of the bedroom door. Geographically, her daughter was inches away. Emotionally? Across an endless universe of misunderstanding and sorrow. Right now, Catherine didn’t have time to fix it.
“I know you hear me, honey,” she said. “I’ll be at my office, okay? If you need me? Come see me when you get in tomorrow. Okay?”
Silence.
Tenley waited. Waited. Waited. Listened for footsteps. Heard her mother walking away.
That was, like, ironic, right? That her mother was leaving? She imagined herself telling the story to Brileen with lots of clever inflection and just the right cool words. They’d be sharing an apartment. It wouldn’t matter that Brileen was a little older. They’d compare notes on classes and guys and real life, without any dumb parents hovering over them like prison guards. Brileen and her roommate were looking for a third, she’d said. Their old roommate had moved out, but the girl’s parents had paid the rent for the rest of the year. How cool was that?