Meanwhile, at Eden police station...
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Darrin
"I still ain't gotta clue why I'm here in the first place."
I watch his expression. So he thinks he's a tough nut. I'll get him to crack, though. I just know this has to be Drake's accomplice. I haven't gotten this confirmed with the higher-ups, but I hope that if he squeals, we'll go easier on him. I'm more interested in the bigger fish.
"Break-ins? I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't do no break-ins. Didn't break into nothing."
"So, Kyle, how has life been treating you since your release?" I watch his surprise at my change of gear.
I shrug. "All I wanted to know was how life was treating you. Have you been able to find work?"
He sneers. "You fascist pork bullies have no idea how f--king hard it is to get a damn job when you got a record."
"I've heard it's difficult. That sucks. So what have you been doing for money?"
"None a your damn business, that's what."
"You ain't got no 'friendly concern,' so don't even go and try to act like you do." He looks around. "You got no right to keep me in here cuz I ain't done nothing wrong."
I sigh and pull out the evidence report.
"Beats me. Maybe the person that lived there picked it up on they clothes. Like I shed a few hairs at the local bar, and they got stuck to them folks' clothes."
"That's unlikely considering one of the robbed houses is only inhabited by a recovering alcoholic. He says he's been clean for six years now." I tap on the man's photo. "And we definitely found your hair here."
"The way you talk, I must shed like a St. Bernard in spring. Which I don't."
"Are you always wearing that headband?"
"Yeah. So?"
"So if you do, taking it off and putting it back on again, adjusting it, those actions can cause you to be more likely to lose hair in the agitated area."
"That's the best you got? You're full-a plum."
He grins. "Ha! I wear a twelve." He props his foot up on the table.
I sigh and run my hand down my face, a pretend 'well, plum' look on my face. "Then there's a chance some other guy took the stuff."
He laughs and leans back in his chair, stretching. "Yeah. What would I want with a bunch of clothes an' food anyways? Whatta waste of time."
He grins suddenly, probably suspecting he knows why I'm here. "So, what can I do ya for, Darrin? I doubt this has anything to do with you wanting to enjoy the view from my little closet here."
I pause, tilt my head, and question, "I never said what was stolen. Hm. How did you know?"
He winces. "It was... It was in the file you just showed me."
I give an air about me that I've already decided he didn't do it. "So what have you been living on, Kyle? You moved out of your mom's house. How are you making ends meet?"
"Just how well is he paying you, Kyle? Is it worth prison? Because it doesn't matter what we discuss in here, you're guilty. Now, it's up to you whether or not you help us because if you do, I can guarantee we'll be lenient with your little petty thefts."
He covers his face. "If I tell you how to find him, will you help me out of this kidnapping business? Even before prison, I ain't about that. He's just a kid."
I don't WANT to call the chief and let him know what I know. My rational mind understands the ethics behind why I'm not on the case, but my heart just wants to rescue my son.
My heart and mind continue their battle for supremacy. They're old foes. My heart won the last war they had, and I couldn't be happier with the result.
His partner is still on the case, trying to infiltrate Drake's inner 'circle.' There's no circle to my knowledge, and we have the one guy. Marco is so engrossed in his laptop that he doesn't hear me enter.
"No it wasn't. That was just the evidence we collected."
"Lucky guess."
I snort. "Hardly. But don't you think it's weird? Why only steal clothes and food?"
"Uh, 'cause whoever it is only need that stuff."
"Yeah, maybe. I just found it really strange how even Mrs. Parker's diamond earrings weren't stolen, and they were sitting out on her nightstand."
"Like I said, he only need food and clothes, I guess."
"Implying he already has plenty of money."
He relaxes a fraction. "Yeah. So obviously not me."
"Oh, a little-a this, a little-a that. Mowing lawns and stuff. Helping my neighbors."
"Do you own a mower?"
"No, I use theirs. I also drive people around and stuff."
"Drive people around. Like pick them up at the park? Buy food for them?"
"Yeah. Stuff like that. I'm a helpful guy."
"And that pays well, does it?"
"Yeah. He's really grateful for all I do because he can't get out, you see."
"Who can't?"
"My neighbor."
"That's nice of you. Maybe I could pay him a visit to see what I can do to help. Where does he live?"
"Uh... nearby my house. He don't need help from you, though."
"Well, that's not for you to say. With all these break-ins happening, it would be good to check in on someone homebound."
"You make it sound like he some old dude. He ain't. And he won't want your help. He's a as*hole."
"I think the 'he' you're referring to is Drake Goth! I think the 'kid' you mentioned is Brent Taylor who's been missing for four days now. No, Drake isn't a feeble old man; he's wanted for escaping prison not to mention several other things. He also would only need food and clothing, and who better to hire to help him out with that than an ex-con like yourself? And by the way, he wears a size nine shoe. We have a shred of hard evidence also placing him at the crime scenes.
"He is?"
"Yeah! And he thinks I'm stupid as sh*t. After everything I did to help. How was I to know toddlers don't eat sushi? And there I thought I was being really nice, but nooooo, all I hear is him complaining that I wasn't in the right place to pick him up when he got the kid."
"What kid?" My heart rate increases.
He swallows, his eyes huge. "Uh, his, uh, son."
"Hm. You know what I think, Kyle?"
He doesn't ask.
Whoops. Lost my cool there. I watch his expression. But maybe that's what this 'tough nut' needed. I slowly sit back down.
He takes a breath. "The man's a as*hole."
It takes everything I have not to leap across the table, grab him by the shirt, and demand he take me to Drake NOW. "I promise I'll do what I can IF you help us. I'm going to hand you over to the other team for questioning, and if you cooperate with them, it'll only help your chances at leniency."
He nods. "Sure." Then he tells me the details on how to get to where Drake is hiding. It was like he was dying to unload it all. I didn't even have to wait!
If I follow my heart, I will once again go against the high moral standards I set for myself when I joined the force. The life I remember before I was adopted was full of fear. I never want that for anyone. Now, there's a little boy out there, a little boy I love like he were my own flesh and blood, and he needs help. Plum if I'm not going to help him.
"Let me know when you decide to go rogue," echoes in my memory.
It's time.
I close the cell door, turn, and make my way to Marco's tiny office.
"Hey, Polo." I announce my presence.
I grin. It's not often he gets startled. "Not long. I see you're hard at work." I make my way over to the extra chair he has.
He starts, jumping back with his chair rolling back an inch or two, his hands on his armrests.
"Maker, F--kface! How long you been standing there?"
"I am--using that technique your Michael perfected to unscramble Graham Taylor's murder." Mike had come by the station a while back to explain his method to everyone since it differed from the way they'd done it in the past.
"Coffman sang like the proverbial canary when I mentioned how we could" I wince "possibly go easy on him for his part in everything."
"Well, listen to you writing checks you can't cash." He's having too much fun with his trite clichés.
"I know where he is."
"Did you inform Foster?" He acts like he already knows the answer.
"Nope."
His grin widens. "Understood." He stands up, grabbing his stuff as he walks around the desk. "Let's go."
When we get to the location, however, we have a surprise in store.
"Aunt Em?" My mouth drops.
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