“I’ll stay,” Mandi Carter said, and she gavethe cop a dirty look as she stepped around him on her way towardLucas.He hadn’t appreciated her in the bar, but out here, when shehooked her arm through his elbow, he squeezed as tight as he couldwhile still handcuffed.She smiled at him in appreciation.“Hopefully they won’t beat up a girl.”
“Wouldn’t count on it,” Sean said from hisspot on the ground.“They’re pussies, so they’d naturally be drawnto their own kind.”
The officer stepped forward again, the crowdsurged, and then the sound of distant sirens caught everyone’sattention.
“Get him out of here,” Lucas said urgently,and finally, he seemed to have them all convinced.Mikey leaneddown and helped Sean to his feet, Casey and Tinker heaved his armsup over their shoulders and they started off down the street at anawkward jog.The rest of the crowd melted away into the night, andLucas looked tiredly at the police officer who’d hit Sean.“Honestly,” he said.“I wasn’t drinking.”
ChapterFour
“Blood alcohol was barely above zero,”Constable Singh said.“I’m sorry, Mark, but he could have gottenthat way from eating his grandma’s rum balls.No evidence of DUI,and no breach of his parole.”
“I saw him with a drink in his hand,” Marksaid stubbornly.
“Might have stayed in his hand and not gonein his mouth.I don’t know.But we couldn’t hold him foranything.”
“What about the riot?I read that in thepaper this morning.”
“He didn’t do anything to incite it.Thecitizen videos make that clear.As far as I’ve seen so far, he wasthe one to calm it down.I might have been able to lay chargesagainst his friend if the patrol officer hadn’t assaulted him, butas it is, the department is facing an internal affairsinvestigation into the officer’s behavior and is worried about apossible lawsuit.”
Mark knew Singh from a variety of communityoutreach programs.They weren’t friends, exactly, but they werecertainly allies.He didn’t want to push, but it was hard to let goof his plan.It had all seemed so simple the night before.“Whatare the other terms of his parole?Is he honestly allowed to justcontinue with his life like nothing ever happened?”
“No, he’s not.”Singh gave Mark a doubtfullook.“Are you sure you want to get into all this?We have staff incharge of monitoring him and ensuring compliance.But I heard thetapes of what he was saying last night, and based on that I’d sayhe’s absolutely aware of how delicate the situation is.If hebreaches parole, it’s not going to be subtle.It’ll be because heloses control of himself and does something stupid, not because heforgets to make it home before curfew.”
“He has a curfew, then?What time?”
“Nine o’clock.”The constable sighed as hegave in.“And he has to be gainfully employed or engaged infull-time school or training, has to live in an approved location,has to abstain from drugs or alcohol, has to report twice a weekand may be subject to random drug testing.He can’t commit anycrimes, not even misdemeanors.”Singh stepped forward and restedhis hand on Mark’s shoulder.“We’re watching him.You don’t haveto.”
Mark forced himself to nod.“Okay.Yeah,okay.”He smiled as if going back to casual chatter, then asked,“So, he’s got a job already?In this economy, he’s lucky!Where’dhe find something?”
Singh looked like he saw right through Mark’scharade, but said, “Gage Roofing.Same place he was working before.He’s a friend of the family, or something.”
“Roofing,” Mark said.“That’s hard work.”
“Not the way he does it, apparently.”Singhshrugged.“But if they’re willing to pay him, we don’t inquire tooclosely.”
Seemed like they didn’t inquire too closelyinto much, Mark thought as he walked out of the police station.Seemed like they just wanted this whole thing to fade away, as ifeveryone should just forget about it and move on.But it was kindof hard to do that when Mark could still remember the feeling ofhis mother’s frail shoulders shaking with sobs as she’d clung tohim the night before.When he could still see his father’shopeless, lost expression as he’d watched his wife of thirty-nineyears falling apart.Mark’s brother was dead, his family wasdestroyed, and the man who had caused it all was drinking beer andcausing near-riots without any repercussions.
Mark didn’t look at his watch.He knew he wasrunning late, and didn’t need the graphic display to remindhimself.Instead of heading to the church, he steered his aged cartoward the edge of town, the new subdivision that was going up nearthe highway.Some of the houses in there were almost done—theymight be at the roofing stage.If Cain wasn’t working out there,Mark could just drive around for a while and see where roofing wasbeing done—it wasn’t that big of a town.Maybe the roofing companydid work out in the country or in neighboring towns, but maybe theydidn’t.If Cain was nearby, Mark would find him.
It didn’t prove to be too difficult.A quicktrip through the winding roads of the subdivision brought him to anestate-sized lot with a half-finished house on it.There were mencrawling over the roof like purposeful crabs and Mark squinted atthem.It was hard to see faces and Mark wasn’t sure he wanted to,anyway.He needed to know where the man was, maybe, but that didn’tmean he wanted to see him living his life.
Something slid on the roof and for a quick,exciting moment Mark thought one of the roofers was going to fall.Maybe it would be Cain, toppling from the peak of a two-storeyhome…but it didn’t happen.The wrapper from one of the bundles slida little more and then someone caught it and threw it over the edgeinto a waiting garbage bin.Mark leaned back in his seat and forcedhimself to close his eyes.He was a man of God, and he’d just beenexcited about the possibility of seeing a fellow man die.
No.Not die, just get hurt.And excitedwasn’t the same as wanting it to happen.It had been a strangereaction, but not sinister, surely.
He opened his eyes again and saw Cain.He wasoff the roof, pulling bundles of shingles from the back of aflatbed truck, and even from a distance Mark could see the waysweat was sticking the man’s shirt to his body despite the coolspring weather.What had happened to not working too hard?Theother men were working steadily, but Cain was clearly drivinghimself harder than the rest.
Maybe it was a macho thing.He was trying toget fit, or trying to prove what a tough guy he was.He wasn’t thatbig—maybe five-ten, and built lean.Mark pushed the thought ofJimmy’s six-three, heavyset frame out of his mind.He didn’t needto think about that, didn’t need to wonder why his brother had beenfighting this kid in the first place.It didn’t matter how it hadstarted, it mattered how it had ended, with Lucas Cain picking up abottle and breaking his victim’s skull.
Across the street, Cain was walking back topull another bundle from the flatbed when one of his coworkersstumbled, almost falling under the weight of his load.Cain wasquick, catching the shingles and steadying the other man, thengoing on about his job without even a smile.He was cold.Uncaring,not deigning to try to make friends with the others on the crew.Itwas as if he were angry somehow.Did he think he’d been in jail toolong?Was the job not to his liking?Were the crew of the wrongrace, or displeasing to him in some other way?
Mark caught himself.He was being irrational.He was giving in to anger and hatred rather than focusing on love.Well, in this case, love was out of the question.God would have tounderstand that.But He might not approve of the way Mark wasletting himself grow obsessed with all this.He was late for work,and he wasn’t doing anything productive out here.
There was nothing productive to be done, ofcourse—not in this matter.Which meant Mark should chase it fromhis mind.He put the car into gear and pulled away from theconstruction site.
“Do you have a minute, Mark?”Father TerryGroban was the rector of the church, Mark’s immediate superior, andif he was asking for a minute, it wasn’t the sort of request thatcould be refused.
“I’m just waiting for a parishioner.Well,not actually a member of our congregation, but a boy I’ve beencounseling.He isn’t here yet, though.”
