“What boys?”
“The boys you managed to control yourself from punching, kneeing, or hitting,” I replied.
“If I nailed every guy each time they did something stupid like that, I’d have a permanent desk in Severson’s office.”
“So that kind of thing happens a lot?” I asked, taking a seat myself, not caring about the dirt or the damp leaves.
“It’s high school. If it’s not one form of torture, it’s another.” Andee’s voice was shifting into the realm of defiant I was used to, the small, frail tone dissipating.
“Yeah, but a group of boys preventing you from getting on your bus at the end of the day is not typical high school frustration you should shrug off.” My head turned toward her. “I can talk to Principal Severson about it, ask him to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
A dark laugh echoed under the confines of her arms. “That should do the trick.” She followed that with another note of laughter. “They were just messing around. It’s not a big deal.”
When my hand touched her shoulder, she flinched, but she didn’t smack it away or move out of reach.
“It kind of seems like it’s a big deal.”
“It’s not. Just don’t say anything to Severson or anyone else at the school.” Andee’s head angled a bit my direction, her eyes shining in the shadows the way her father’s did. “It’ll only make things worse.”
My forehead lined. “Andee, what’s going on?”
The question encapsulated more than the encounter I’d witnessed at the bus line, and more than what I’d stumbled in upon last night. With a few words, I was asking her to explain what had gone wrong between her and me, this school, and the world.
“It’s called being a teenager in the modern world.” She unfolded all at once, shoving to her feet. There were no signs of tears on her face, not even that brand of cloistered anger I was accustomed to. “It blows.”
Following her out of the courtyard, noting she took the back way to the guest parking lot, I struggled with what comfort to provide. High school had been its own form of torture when I’d gone through it, just as everyone on the planet could attest to. No one escaped the confines of this rite of passage unscathed.
“Life does get better, you know?” I said to her as we approached the SUV. “High school seems like some massive thing at this stage, but one day you’ll look back and realize what a small portion of your life it really was.”
Andee didn’t say anything as she climbed into the passenger seat.
“Oh. I picked you up a cake pop too.” I held out the paper bag, not knowing if she’d accept it or chuck it out the window.
Sliding her hood back from her head, she took the bag, almost making eye contact. “Thanks.”
The next breath I took felt like the first full one I’d had in years. “You’re welcome.”
Thirteen
The house I’d grown up in hadn’t changed in the two decades since I’d moved out. The trees were a little taller and the neighbor to the north had painted their home a different color, but my childhood residence remained immune to time’s march.
With my parents spending most of their time in Arizona now that Dad had retired, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been back to the home they kept in Bellevue so they could enjoy a few weeks of the Seattle summer when the blue skies made their return.
The task force was scheduled to assemble this evening at the Highlands, but Dad had sent out a group text this morning calling an urgent assembly at his place. Everyone needed to be there. No exceptions.
Confirmation responses chimed in, mine lagging a few minutes behind because I was irritated urgent meetings were already being issued and annoyed no one called my dad out on it because he was Silas Payne.
Like my response, my car was the last one to arrive from the looks of the driveway. The door was unlocked, so I let myself in, pausing when I caught myself sliding out of my shoes. Mom wasn’t there to rattle off her take off your shoes greeting the second I walked in the door, and today I was a guest, not a daughter.
Guests could keep their shoes on.
Following the sound of voices to my father’s office, I saw he couldn’t resist checking his watch when I wove inside. I stopped myself when I was about to explain why I was late, remembering it was him who wanted my help. Staying silent, I took a seat on the other side of the couch from Don, the retired cop. Mainly because it was the farthest spot in the room from Will, the void-of-morals-and-decency defense attorney.
Samantha, Phinn, and Teddy were in chairs staggered around the office, while Titus was pacing along the wall of book shelves stocked with endless legal volumes.
“Now that we’re all here, I’ll get straight to it.” Dad stood behind his desk, shadows from a sleepless night showing under his eyes. He’d had plenty of those in his life, but they looked to be finally catching up to him. “I caught wind late last night from one of my media contacts that someone leaked a tip about the serial killer.”
Heads turned, eyes going from one person to the next with the same question in them.
“I know I made it clear that there was a gag order in effect on this matter.”
Don leaned forward on the couch, the leather creaking. “How do you know it was someone in this group?”
Dad gestured around the room. “Because you’re the only ones I’ve told.”
“But couldn’t someone outside of the group, a detective who might suspect—“
“Someone in this room disobeyed my order, and now our advantage of taking this guy before he knew we were looking for him is totally shot.” Dad slammed his hand on his desk, his face going a rare red. Emotion was for the weak-minded, he had always claimed, and it took a strong person to contain what they were feeling. But today, he was failing his own test of mental fortitude.
Silence filled the air, eyes diverting into laps, backs stiffening with the elapsed quiet.
Dad’s hand lifted. “I need one of you to confess who gave the tip to the media.”
I found myself squirming much the way I had as a child who’d been called into his office for bad behavior.
“Shit, Silas, it was me, okay?” Phinn announced from his chair across the room, raising his arms. “I’ve been seeing this chick who works for KING 5 and I might have mentioned it to her the other night. But I swear to you, I never thought she’d tell anyone. She promised me she wouldn’t say a word.”
The whole room was staring at him with varying degrees of betrayal, though Silas Payne was not. His eyes remained fixed in front of him, always moving forward even in the midst of a setback.
“I appreciate you admitting it, Phinn. I already knew it was you, but good on you for being a man and telling the truth.” Dad’s jaw clamped together for a moment. “It takes courage to admit to a wrongdoing. But it requires character to keep your word and it’s clear you possess little of that quality.”
“She swore she wouldn’t tell a soul—”
“Spare me the assurances. You used a piece of valuable information to get under the skirt of a woman who was stratospheres above your flying altitude. She in turn used that information to fast-track her promotion. Don’t attempt to paint the exchange an honorable shade.” Dad waved at the door. “You’re out, Judas.”