And Then She Was Gone(102)
“And maybe you are. But there are still consequences.”
That brought Jack up short. “If I prove Jay didn’t kill Stacy, how can I get jammed up?”
“Let me put it another way. Suppose you prove that Detective Vargas is wrong in front of his boss and all his colleagues. Do you think he’ll congratulate you? Or will he still pursue charges?”
Jack looked out the window.
The way to Hamilton Park was to the right. The way home was to the left. Jack’s father looked both ways, and then turned to Jack. “From the time you came home, you’ve wanted to be a policeman. Are you willing to risk losing that for Jay Martin?”
Jack paused, but he didn’t need time to think about his answer. “Wrong’s wrong. It isn’t just about Jay. Not anymore. I didn’t even know Stacy, but… the person who killed her left her in a pond like trash. Like I was.” Jack swallowed. “Yeah, I can close my eyes and go on with my life, and become a police officer, and everything I’ve ever wanted—but an innocent person rots in prison and a killer goes free. If something happens to that homeless guy tonight, I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t let that happen.”
The light turned green. Jack’s dad hesitated. He took a long time to decide. Finally he exhaled, and turned toward Hamilton Park.
“Thanks for believing in me.”
His father sped up. “That’s what dads are for.”
As they walked into Hamilton Park, the wind blew in gusts and the air was sticky. They didn’t see anyone else. As the wind picked up, Jack kept turning his face toward the sky, waiting for the rain.
“It’s going to rain soon, so let’s find him fast,” Jack’s dad said.
They reached the bench where Jack and Chandler had seen the homeless guy the other night, but he wasn’t there. Then they headed to bench thirteen. He wasn’t there either.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Ted asked. “The light is working.”
Jack looked up. “They must have fixed it. But it’s the right place.”
His father took off his glasses and wiped them. “Let’s try the shelter. He probably went before—”
“Evening,” said a voice. Jack and his father jumped as the homeless man walked toward them out of the darkness. “Didn’t see me, did ya?”
“Nope.” Jack’s dad popped the end of the word and his eyebrows lowered. “That’s why we jumped.”
The man grinned. “Murray Pratt.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ted Stratton. This is my son, Jack.” He reached out to shake Murray’s hand, but then thought better of it.
Jack spoke as calmly as his pounding heart would allow. “Murray, you remember me? I spoke with you a few nights ago. You said that a smart-ass broke your light, is that right?”
“He sure did.” Murray nodded curtly.
“So you spoke with him?” Jack held his breath.
“Not really. He walked over and started throwing rocks at my light. I asked him what the hell he was doing and he told me to get lost. I told him that that’s where I sleep, and do you know what he said? ‘No one wants to sleep with the lights on.’ Then he broke the light and left.”
“What did he look like? Was he white? Black?” Jack asked.
“A white guy. Big. Taller than you.” He pointed at Jack. “Light-brown hair.”
“It wasn’t Vlad or any of the other homeless guys around here?”
“Nope.”
“Would you recognize the guy again if you saw him?” Jack asked.
“I think,” Murray said.
“Would you be able to tell the police what you just told us?” Jack’s dad asked.
Murray shifted his weight from foot to foot. He looked nervous. “I don’t know.”
“It would be a big help to a lot of people. I’d be personally grateful and—”
“How grateful? Money grateful?”
“Possibly.” Jack’s dad smiled. “Tell you what, I’ll buy you dinner. All you have to do is tell the police what you just told me.”
“Really?” Murray eyed him suspiciously.
“Really.” Jack’s dad raised his hand in promise.
“Deal,” Murray said.
A rumble of thunder echoed through the park.
Jack’s dad shrugged. “No time like the present then. There’s a Waffle House near the police station.”
“I love waffles.”
“Waffles it is.”
“Right after you talk to the cops,” Jack added.
As the three of them headed back to the car, Murray kept talking about what he wanted to order. Jack’s dad just kept nodding and saying, “That sounds good, Murray. Get that.”