“That’s why you’re here?” Fiona looked between the men. “Community service?”
“Ma’am, please. May I have a moment with my parolee?” The officer turned to Fiona and motioned for her to step back before turning to Kieran. Kieran shuddered at the term, hating that it was true, that that was all he was. “What I am not happy about, Kavanagh, is that you’ve been keeping your background a secret here.”
“I’ve never lied about it.” Kieran looked down, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as he felt the shame creeping across his skin.
“I’m sure you haven’t, but apparently your girlfriend doesn’t know you’ve done time. Are you being up front with everyone, including the kids here? The point of you being here is not just as a tutor, or referee. Legally, I can’t require you to tell anyone, but I placed you here for a reason. You could do really well and make a difference.” Huppert motioned around the courtyard, which was mostly empty at this point. “These kids can learn from your mistakes. How are they supposed to do that if they don’t know you’ve made any?”
“I get it, Officer.” Kieran nodded, still refusing to look over at Fiona, who had only taken a step or two back and was still staring at the two of them. Her hands were on her hips and she looked furious now, at least from what he could tell out of the corner of his eye. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on being more transparent.”
Not that he had much of a choice now. Several kids could see this whole interaction, and the cat was certainly out of the bag with Fiona. He ground his teeth together, clenching his jaw, as he tried to stay calm. He wasn’t angry at his parole officer so much as he was furious with himself. He’d known he couldn’t keep this quiet forever, but he’d been so afraid to say anything.
Now it was all coming out in the worst possible way.
“What is that smell?” Officer Huppert’s eyes narrowed as his nose turned up slightly, and he took a closer step toward Kieran.
Kieran’s blood ran cold. He said nothing.
“Kavanagh, I asked you, what is that smell? Because it smells to me a lot like pot.” Huppert motioned for him to put his hands out. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“It’s not what—” Kieran started, but then stopped, unsure of what to say. After all, there was a half-smoked joint in his pocket.
“Empty your pockets now,” the officer said sternly, his hand out waiting. “Turn them inside out.”
Slowly, Kieran reached into his pockets, grabbed the lining, and pulled them straight out. He didn’t look down even though he knew the joint had landed on the concrete below. Instead, he stared straight ahead at his mother, who was clutching Shea against her so she couldn’t watch what was happening. Nora’s eyes traveled to the ground with everyone else’s, and it was like the entire world accused him of guilt at the same time.
“This yours?” Officer Huppert asked, standing back up with the joint laying flat in his palm.
Kieran closed his eyes, inwardly groaning. Opening them again, he saw Shea still in his mother’s arms, struggling to be let go so she could figure out what was happening. Nora was looking at him with wide eyes, a flicker of recognition on her face as she glanced toward the building, then back at him. He knew what she was thinking. Cassandra had said she’d gotten it from Nora’s desk. But Shea had been smoking it.
He knew his being caught with it, whether it was his or not, was an automatic ticket back to prison. He could try to explain how it had happened, but it wouldn’t change that it was in his pocket. It was already too late, and no one else needed to be punished for it. He wouldn’t lie, but he also couldn’t tell the truth.
So he said nothing.
Officer Huppert glared at him, his jaw clenched. “You hear me, Kavanagh?”
More silence.
“I don’t have time for this game. Turn around, hands on your head.” Officer Huppert pulled a plastic evidence bag out of his pocket and slipped the joint in, putting it in his pocket. Pulling handcuffs off his belt, he grabbed Kieran’s wrists and twisted them behind his back, locking them together with the metal bracelets.
“I really didn’t think I’d have any problems with you, Kavanagh. You seemed like you had a good head on your shoulders, so I went lenient on you. I’m supposed to do these checks biweekly, but you’ve been on my roster almost a month now. I got a few main things I draw the line on, and you knew drugs was one of them. And drugs around kids? I’ve got no choice.” Officer Huppert seemed both angry and sad to be arresting him. “You’re going back, Kavanagh.”