Parting Shot

Thirteen

Trevor Duckworth glanced down at his phone.

“Shit, my dad sent me a text like an hour ago,” he told the woman sitting across from him at the round table just out front of a Promise Falls Starbucks. She was mid-twenties, green eyes, dark hair to her shoulders. She wore a black sweater, black jeans, and tan leather boots that came up to her knees.

“What’s he want?”

“Says he needs to talk to me.”

“What about?”

Trevor shrugged. He tapped I’m at Starbucks and hit Send. He saw the dots appear, and then his father’s reply: Stay there. See you in 5.

Trevor typed K, then rested his phone on the small table. “I should have told him something else.”

“Why?”

“He’ll be thinking, I’m out of work, and I can still afford to pay five bucks for a cup of coffee.”

“Would he say that?”

“No, but he’ll be thinking it. He’s coming here in a couple of minutes.”

“Should I go?” the woman asked. She glanced down at her latte. She’d barely started it.

Trevor hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How about, ‘Please stay, I’d love him to meet you.’ How about that?”

“You know it’s not a good idea.” Trevor thumbed his phone to check the time. “Fine, you might as well hang in and meet him.”

“He is kind of a hero,” she said.

“Yeah, I know, so everyone says,” Trevor said. “He’s the big star.”

“You two don’t get along?”

Trevor sighed. “Sometimes. Sometimes not. He can be a bit of a hardass at times. Whaddya expect? He’s a cop.” He glanced out at the parking lot. “Shit, he was even closer than he said.”

The woman followed his gaze. A heavyset man was getting out of a black four-door sedan and walking toward them.

Trevor got to his feet as his father approached. The woman smiled awkwardly. Barry Duckworth nodded briefly to his son before turning his attention to her.

“Well, hello,” he said, extending a hand.

“Hi,” she said.

“Dad, uh, this is Carol,” Trevor said uneasily. “Carol Beakman.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Duckworth grinned and tipped his head toward his son. “Whatever he told you, you should take it with a grain of salt.”

“Is everything okay?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” Duckworth said. “Just needed to talk to you.”

“I’ll be on my way,” Carol said, reaching for her purse and putting the lid back onto her latte.

“No, please,” Duckworth said quickly. “I’d like you to stay.”

“I don’t want to intrude, and I do have some things I have—”

“No, this may actually involve you.”

Carol’s eyes flashed. “I’m sorry?”

“Dad, what’s this about?”

“Can we grab another chair?” Duckworth said. Trevor went to the closest table, where a woman was sitting alone. He stole the chair across from her and brought it over to their table. Duckworth took a seat.

“You want something?” Carol asked. “A cappuccino maybe?”

“No, no, that’s okay. And if I go up to the counter, I won’t be able to stop myself from getting a slice of that lemon cake, with the icing.” He felt his mouth starting to water. “The slices aren’t all that big, are they? How many calories could they be?”

“Dad,” Trevor said. He said to Carol, “Dad’s been trying to lose some weight.”

“What do you mean, trying? I have lost some weight.”

Carol smiled. “Congrats. It’s never easy.”

“Tell me about it,” Duckworth said. “Okay, so...” He extended his arms and placed his palms flat on the small table. “I have to admit, this is slightly awkward. This sort of thing hasn’t happened before.”

“What sort of thing?” his son asked.

“I’ll start at the beginning,” Duckworth said. He told them about the police picking up Brian Gaffney, bringing him into the station. How Gaffney couldn’t account for the last two days.

“What’s that got to do with us?” Trevor asked.

“Well, the last thing Mr. Gaffney remembers is being at a bar.”

“What bar?” Carol asked.

“Knight’s,” he said.

Trevor and Carol exchanged a quick look.

“When was this?” Trevor asked.

“Two nights ago. After he left the bar, he says someone called to him from the alley, and he doesn’t remember anything after that.”

“Wow,” said Trevor.

Duckworth brought out his phone, tapped on the photo app. “Here’s a picture of him. He look familiar?”

They both looked at the photo and shook their heads in unison.

“What did they do to him exactly?” Carol asked.

Duckworth hesitated. “I can show you, but it’s not an easy thing to look at, I’m warning you.” With that, he swiped the screen to bring up the previous photo.

“Oh my God, what is that?” Carol asked. “Someone wrote all over his back?”

“It’s a tattoo. It’s permanent.”

“Wait, you mean, like, someone did that to him without his permission?” Carol asked.

“That’s right.”

“How could they do that?” she asked.

“By keeping him knocked out or sedated, it would seem,” Duckworth said, and at that moment his head jerked, as though he’d just remembered something.

“What?” Trevor said.

“Craig Pierce,” the detective said.

“I know that name,” Carol said. “The guy who was attacked? About three months ago.”

Duckworth nodded slowly, and said, more to himself than to his son and Carol, “He was sedated too. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that until now.”

“Dad,” Trevor said.

Duckworth didn’t respond. He was recalling the earlier case.

“Earth to Dad, come in, please.”

“Sorry,” Duckworth said, as if being brought out of a trance. “There’s some things I have to check out. But anyway, this guy who had his back tattooed, he—”

“That’s totally sick,” Trevor said.

“Yeah, it sure is.” Duckworth went back to Gaffney’s head shot. “Are you sure he doesn’t look familiar?”

“Uh, why would you think we’d recognize him?” Trevor asked.

His father smiled sheepishly. “This is the awkward part. I went to Knight’s to have a look at their surveillance footage. I focused in on the time just before Mr. Gaffney arrived, and just after he left. I thought, you know, if he’d had a run-in with someone, a fight, that’d give me an idea who might have done this to him.”

Another exchange of looks between Trevor and Carol.

“What’d you see?” Trevor asked.

“Well, I didn’t see anything like that. But what I did notice was that the two of you were in the bar at the time.”

“Oh,” said Carol, her face flushing.

“Jesus, Dad,” Trevor said, shaking his head. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be investigating your own kid.”

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s what it sounds like to me. Just ’cause I’ve moved back in doesn’t mean you get to stick your nose into my personal life.” He looked apologetically at Carol. “I’m really sorry about this.”

Carol placed a hand on Trevor’s arm. “I don’t think your father—”

Trevor shook her hand off. “No, this is really crossing the line.”

Keeping his voice very calm, Duckworth said, “I’m only here because I thought you might be able to help me. It’s not like the two of you are in any kind of trouble.”

“You actually looked at us sitting there, in the bar?”

“I did.”

Carol’s face flushed again. “You must... you must have a terrible impression of me.”

Duckworth smiled reassuringly. “Not at all. I was young myself once, or so I’m told. It’s hard to remember back that far.”

“So, basically, you watched us make out,” Trevor said accusingly.

“Trevor,” Duckworth said evenly, “you and Carol here are potential witnesses to a crime. You may have seen something without even realizing it. I observed the two of you in a booth, yes. Shortly after Mr. Gaffney left the bar, you left too. I’m hoping maybe one or both of you noticed something outside that might be helpful in the investigation. If you’re uncomfortable being interviewed by me, then I can turn this over to someone else and have them do it.”

Trevor was silent.

“Is that what you’d like?”

Trevor looked away. While he considered a response, Carol said, “I’m okay with talking to you. I mean, I didn’t see anything, but I don’t mind talking to you. Trevor, are you okay with me talking to your dad?”

“This is just weird, that’s all,” he said.

“I get that,” Duckworth said. “I mean, it’s not like I think you two tattooed this guy.”

Carol laughed nervously. “Well, that’s good to know!”

Trevor, however, did not look amused.

“Do you remember seeing Mr. Gaffney?”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t. But,” and she placed her hand gingerly over her mouth, as though she were about to tell a secret, “I wasn’t really paying attention to anyone else.”

“Trevor?”

“Don’t remember him.”

“What about when you left Knight’s? You had to have come out just a few seconds after Mr. Gaffney. This would have been right around the time he met the person or persons who abducted him. Did you notice anything odd? Maybe someone hanging around outside the bar, or at the entrance to the alley? Did you hear something that sounded like a fight or a scuffle?”

“No,” Trevor said quickly. “No to all of those things. We came out and went to my car and that’s that.” He looked at Carol. “Right?”

She studied Trevor’s face for a moment before replying. “That’s right. That’s certainly the way I remember it.”

“You didn’t talk to anyone, see anyone when you came out?” Duckworth persisted.

“Didn’t I just answer that?” Trevor asked before Carol could say anything.

Duckworth gave his son a slow appraisal. “Okay, then.” He smiled weakly at Carol. “I thought it was worth a shot, is all.” He put his phone back into his pocket and leaned back from the table.

“It’s such a pleasure to have met you,” he said to Carol.

“Nice to meet you too.”

“What do you do, Carol?”

“I work for the town.”

“That must be interesting, especially now that we have Randall Finley running things again.”

“Never a dull moment,” Carol said.

“And David Harwood’s still his assistant, right?”

“He is. They never charged him for shooting that escaped convict.”

“Lucky for Harwood. Listen, you must come by the house some time.”

She forced a smile. “That’d be nice.”

“I know Trevor’s mother would be delighted to see you. How did you two meet?”

“Jesus, Dad,” Trevor said. “This really is turning into an investigation. Does Carol have the right to call her lawyer?”

Carol forced a laugh. “Trevor, it’s okay.”

Duckworth raised his hands as though admitting defeat. “None of my business anyway.”

He got up from the chair and gave his son one last nod. “See you later.”

“Yeah, sure,” Trevor said. “Can’t wait.”

Duckworth walked back to his car, got behind the wheel, and drove out of the Starbucks lot.

“God, I’m sorry about that,” Trevor said. “I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been so humiliated. He watched us.”

“It’s okay,” Carol said quietly. “He seems like a nice guy.”

Trevor said nothing.

“Do you think he could tell?” Carol asked.

“Think he could tell what?”

“That we both lied to him?”

Trevor considered that. “I hope not.”