Running From Fate (57 page)

Pat stood up slowly and rubbed his behind.
He stared at the door in dismay and moved forward, as if to follow his son, but Mira forestalled him.
James rarely let his control slip like that and it would have cost him something.
She had to be the one to go after him.

He was sitting on the front stoop with his shoulders drooping and his head bowed when she found him.
His defeated posture drained any anger that remained in her, leaving
behind
a need to c
omfort.
With a tired sigh, she
sat
next to him on the cold concrete.
When his hand reached out she took it, twining their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, rubbing his thumb along her knuckles.
“I didn’t really mean it.
I know how much you care about him, but I can’t feel the same.
”

“
I know.”

The night was dark, filled only with the faint sounds of rustling leaves as a gentle breeze stirred them.
As the anger drained
James
kept their hands clasped and let his mind drift.
It settled on an unfinished conversation from weeks ago and fast forwarded to her barbed questions this evening.
“Why did you do it?
” he finally asked.

She didn’t need to ask what he meant and Mira supposed that it was time to stop hiding
.
“I’m in love with you,” she whispered.
“And I have been for a long time.”

His hand tightened convulsively on hers, but he didn’t say anything and
she
felt her hope begin to dwindle.
“Do you feel nothing for me then?”
s
he prodded.

“Of course I do.”
In an agitated move, he
pulled his hand away and stood up.
He wanted Mira to love him, he realized, but at the same time it scared him because he didn’t know if he could love her back and she deserved that.
Years spent living in a world where love was nothing but an excuse for bad behavior and divorce was easier than marriage, had made him doubt that such an emotion even existed.

“What is it you feel then?”
Mira wiped her dripping eyes and swore she wouldn’t cry over him again.

“I don’t know.
”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to think of a way
to hold onto
her.
He could give her false platitudes and profess feelings that he didn’t posses
s
and he had done things like that
in the past with no compunction
because he knew the woman’s words were just as empty.
He couldn’t, however, do that
to Mira
.
The words
simply
refused to come.
“I want to be with you,” he finally said.
“I worry about you and I care for you, more than I have for anyone else
.
Can that not be enough?”

Before Mira could reply, James cell phone rang.
He thought about ignoring it, but he recognized the number and it could be important.
“What
is it Devon,” he asked in a clipped voice.

“Is that any way to talk to a friend,” the detective chided.
“Especially when I have such good news to share.
”  He paused

“Well?” James
prodded
.

“
We got him.”

A fierce exultation filled James. 
“Have you questioned him yet?”

“Not yet,
” Devon said,
“
but we can’t hold up much longer.
If you want to hear what he has to say you’d better get down here.”

“Ten minutes,” James promised.
He closed the phone and headed for his car
, glancing back at Mira
.
“I’ll call you later,” he
promised her
.

The traffic was murder with half the town seemingly incapable of driving and every light was red, but he made it, screeching into the parking lot of the police station in
the allotted time
.

The constantly ringing phones, raised voices, and general air of
hopelessness
flowed, unnoticed, past him as he marched through the door and straight to where Devon stood, leaning against an attractive brunette’s desk.

He broke off his flirtation when he spotted James.
“You can’t be in the room,” he said as he led his friend down a corridor, “but I managed to arrange for you to observe.
Just remember, you
now owe the chief dugout seats at a Braves
’
game.”

“Fine,” he replied.
It
was a small price to pay
.
Moments
later
he was ushered into the small, dim room
.
A
light came on and he
found himself staring through the glass at a large, blond hair
ed man wearing designer clothes.  He looked
like he hadn’t bathed in a week.
Devon walked
into view and took the chair across from the suspect
.
For now, James leaned back in his own metal chair and watched.

“
Your name is Joseph Parker and y
ou have refused the right to counsel.
Is that correct?”

Devon looked the man in the eye and waited for a response.

“
Joey,” he corrected.
“And t
hat’
s right
.
”
His
left
leg started jittering and he quickly laid a hand on his thigh, stopping the nervous movement.
“I don’t need
no
stinking lawyer because I haven’t done anything.
Don’t you know who I am?
” he asked sullenly.

“I am aware of who you
r
father is,” Devon replied in a calm, unruffled tone.
“Are you certain he’s not the reason you’re refusing legal help?
I’m sure he wouldn’t like it if he found out that his only son is here.”

“There’s no need to call him,” Joey said in a slightly more subdued tone.  “
I can clear up whatever it is by
myself
.”
He tried to cross his arms, but his muscles were too big.
Instead he put them behind his head, elbows bent, obviously trying to appear unconcerned.
His voice, however, held a faint quiver
, as if he was starting to see the seriousness of his situation
.
“What happened?
Did some jealous woman claim I came onto her?”
He tried for a smirk, but it looked more like a grimace.
“The ladies are always fi
ghting over me. 
Sometimes they go a little far trying to get my attention.
So,” he braced his arms on the table and leaned forward.
“Who was it?”

“Are you certain you don’t want a lawyer?” Devon prodded again.
“If you don’t want to call you
r
father you are entitled to a public defendant.”

“Shit no.”
The man
sneered and turned his head. 
James caught the glaze of some kind of drug in his eyes.

“All right Mr. Parker.
Are you acquainted with someone by the name of Kimberly Roberts?”

“Hell.
Is that bitch saying I did something to her?”
He dropped any pretense of respectability, reverting to the crude, spoiled young man he obviously was.
“Man she was so hot for it I could barely keep her off me.”
He stood up as if preparing to leave.
“Lots of people saw us together,” he continued.
“Just ask.”

“Sit down Mr. Parker.”

He sat.

Devon chan
ged track.
“Are you a runner?” h
e asked.

“No,”
Joey
replied sulkily.
“I don’t
go for
that pansy stuff.
I’m more into weightlifting.”
He shifted in his seat and his eyes turned wary.

“Why then,” Devon pounced, “w
ere you on the trail behind Crescent Estates on the morning of September
nineteenth
?”

“Where?”

“A nice housing estate about fifteen minutes east of Research Triangle Park.  I’m sure you’ve seen it.  It has a big, wooded area behind it.  In fact,” Devon continued.  “I believe your father’s firm had some hand in building it.”

Sweat started running down
Joey’s
brow and he wiped it away with his hand.
“I remember now,” he said.
“I spent the night with a friend near there and I took a walk to clear my hangover.”

Obviously, James thought, this guy wasn’t very smart.
He could have just denied ever being there in the hope that they had no evidence.
Now, he had put himself near the scene.
If the boy hadn’t deliberately hurt Mira, he could have almost felt sorry for him.

Devon leaned forward.
“We’ve already spoken to Ms. Roberts,” he said.

A reaction wasn’t long in coming.

“That slut!”
He raged as he exploded out of the chair and pace
d
the room like a caged animal.
“It was all her idea and she tries to pin it on me.”
He slowed down and his eyes started to clear.
“Besides,” he continued craftily.
“I was the one who got hurt.
I could barely walk for a week.
Can’t I sue or something?”

“You almost choked a woman,” the detective reminded him.

“
Well she didn’t die, did she?” h
e asked sulkily.
“Anyway, I was just trying to scare her.”

In the other room James clenched his fists.

“Was rape part of that?”

“Shit.”
Joey threw himself down in the chair and leaned back.
“How much slack will
you cut me if I give you the dirt on Kimberly?”