“No! I won’t let you.”
“But Jay…” Mrs. Martin held her hand over her mouth to cover another sob.
“It’s good, Momma. Everything’s gonna be good.”
Mrs. Martin nodded, and J-Dog looked up. When he did, his eyes met Jack’s. Jack expected to be on the receiving end of nasty sneer, but instead, J-Dog’s eyes were hollow. He was broken, and Jack knew it. He’d seen that same dead look on his own face a thousand times.
For a split second, Jack remembered when they were kids. The image of an innocent young Jay riding his ten-speed bike in the parking lot behind their elementary school flashed to his mind.
Then the door behind J-Dog opened and a guard led in another prisoner. The man looked like a cross between a linebacker and a Russian super-soldier experiment gone wrong. Tattoos covered half of his bald head, and a jagged scar wrapped upward around his neck and then down the other side. A chunk of his top lip was missing, resulting in a permanent snarl.
J-Dog sat up straighter, and a tiny bead of sweat formed on his forehead.
The other prisoner’s eyes locked on J-Dog as he was led over to his own window. Even as he sat down in front of a pregnant woman, he glared at J-Dog with murder in his eyes.
“Jay, please talk to them,” Mrs. Martin begged.
J-Dog’s eyes shifted over to the enormous man, then quickly returned.
Aunt Haddie reached out and squeezed Jack’s hand.
Jack knew child molesters, rapists, and men accused of violent crimes against women were typically kept isolated in prison—for their own safety. General population wasn’t exactly kind to that sort of criminal. But J-Dog had been put in general population in the Bay, and Jack realized why: the cops were putting pressure on him to talk.
J-Dog’s dead if he had anything to do with a missing lady.
Jack glanced back at the musclehead seated four sections away. He wouldn’t want to fight the monster in an open field with a bat, let alone in a concrete cell. And that super mutant was just one of many in here who would want a piece of J-Dog.
Jack shuddered.
Mrs. Martin folded her hands in her lap. She stared at her son. Her shoulders pulled back and she lifted her chin. When she spoke, she did so deliberately. “Your father would want you to tell the police the truth.”
J-Dog shut his eyes and shook his head.
Mrs. Martin sat motionless. She said nothing.
“Momma, I didn’t have anything to do with that missing lady. I swear it on Daddy’s grave.”
J-Dog’s oath slammed into Jack. J-Dog loved his father. In fact, Jack had been jealous of their relationship when they were kids. J-Dog had followed his father everywhere; he was Jay’s hero. They had a falling out when J-Dog was a teenager and got in trouble with the law, but when his father died, J-Dog was inconsolable.
“I believe you.” Mrs. Martin looked around the room. “I just don’t know what to do.” She rubbed the back of one hand with the thumb of the other. She took a deep breath. “Jay, there’s something else. Tommy hasn’t come home since you were arrested.” Her slumped shoulders bent even more. “He hasn’t even called. I phoned his girlfriend, but Nina hasn’t seen him.” She looked up at Jay. “Do you know where he could be?”
J-Dog leaned back. His initial look of confusion was quickly replaced by a flash of anger. “Momma, don’t look for Tommy.”
“What?”
“I need you to leave Tommy alone. Leave him be.”
“Why?”
“You just do. Don’t stir up the pot.”
“I can’t. I’m his mother.” Mrs. Martin looked distraught. “Maybe I should file a missing person report?”
“Time.” A guard strutted forward.
J-Dog jumped up. “Tommy’s fine, wherever he is. Don’t get the police involved.”
The guard stepped forward.
“Where’s Tommy? Is Tommy in trouble? Jay? Jay?”
J-Dog stepped back. “Just take care of yourself.”
“Jay?” Mrs. Martin called out as she touched the window. “I’ll get you help.”
J-Dog looked at his mother. In his eyes, a brief flicker of optimism rose, but it was quickly extinguished, and in the ashes all that remained was hopelessness.
As J-Dog was escorted from the room, Aunt Haddie stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Mrs. Martin’s shoulders. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
An impatient-looking guard opened the door for the three of them, and they headed back the way they came. Jack felt like a diver who’d stayed underwater too long and his oxygen was running out. He wanted to sprint for the exit. But he kept the slow and steady pace set by the women.