so obviously changing the timeline of when charlie got shot and how long he was in the hospital. it is now may in the story and supposed to be summer but it's not.
The boy was really not dressed for the weather.
It was the middle of May, and summer was supposed to have begun, but there was still frost on the ground again and the storm from the other night was still swirling around.
Yet the boy on the street before me was only wearing a thin jacket, worn jeans and a pair of sneakers. He was shivering from head to foot and visibly having to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering.
I'd meant to tell him to meet me somewhere like a café or something, but, considering his situation, that hadn't really been a possibility. Not to mention the fact that, because of the unprecedented drop in temperature, all of the places nearby were filled to capacity already. And bringing him to my place wasn't an option, either; his circumstances aside, the house wasn't exactly in a state that would be comforting to a child, even with the attempted repairs that had been done after the attack that had put me in the hospital.
I didn't know that much about Kyle Brandt, other than what Frank Tedor, the man who'd hired me and asked me to talk to him had told me. From the information I'd been given, I wasn't surprised by his less-than-practical state of dress. My former partner, Walter Cole's wife had known the boy's mother and the family apparently wasn't very well off.
Things were probably a lot worse, too, since his mother had been murdered just over a month ago. According to Tedor, the man who was responsible had gotten away with it and was now sharing Kyle's aunt's bed and, in Tedor's opinion, abusing her just like he'd been doing to her sister.
I wasn't supposed to be working a case. I was supposed to be at home, recuperating from the coma. Strangely, though, I was fine; other than that crazy dream a few nights ago, I was great-and I wanted to work. And this case, this kid's story, it had struck a chord with me, so I couldn't just leave it alone.
That was how I'd ended up here with this lanky fifteen-year-old, attempting to think of a way to keep him distracted from the cold and convince him to tell me what was going on.
"Look, Kyle, I can help you, but not unless you talk to me," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring voice, trying to look as unthreatening as possible.
Kyle remained quiet for several more seconds, appearing largely unconvinced while continuing to assess me through his vaguely haunted eyes. I couldn't blame him; even though I was, ostensibly, a friend of 'Ms. Cole', I was still technically a stranger, and he had no reason to believe me-especially after all that he'd been through.
I didn't know what else I could say to him to convince him that I was, if not a friend, then someone who could be one-someone he didn't have to be afraid of. So, instead of saying anything, I simply spread my palms and hoped for the best.
Kyle continued to examine me for another full minute before finally seeming to relax and responding.
"He told me not to talk to anybody," the boy stated lowly, gaze dropping so he was looking more at my neck than my eyes. He shifted more, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "He said if I did, he'd make me disappear like he did to my momma."
"He won't find out you said anything," I promised him firmly. "I can protect you if he tries to hurt you. I know how he hurt your mother, and Mrs. Cole said he's hurting your aunt. Is that true?"
Kyle nodded slowly, hunching in on himself as he lost the fight to keep his teeth from chattering.
"I hear her screaming every night," he confessed with the air of having to admit something deeply painful. "He tries to cover it up, but I hear it."
I internally grimaced; that couldn't be fun for him, hearing someone he loved in pain and not being able to do anything about it.
There was a brief pause, then he added even more quietly, his eyes darting around like he was making sure no one else was listening, "He did the same thing to my momma, too."
"I'm sorry, Kyle," I said sympathetically, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder; I took it as a good sign that he didn't retreat from it. "I know what it's like; that's why I'm here. I want to stop him, to get justice for your mother and stop him from abusing your aunt or anyone else."
Kyle looked into my eyes again, lips trembling, either from the cold or from trying to keep his emotion in check. "The other detective tried, but then he let him go." There was a definite note of 'what can you do that he couldn't' to his tone.
I suppressed a rueful smile with difficulty; little did he know that there was a lot I could do that a police detective couldn't. However, what I should do was quite another matter; the last allegedly innocuous case I'd taken had ended with me nearly dying-and this definitely was not as innocent as that one had appeared.
"Well, I've talked to him, and the only reason he let the man go was because the police didn't have enough evidence to hold him," I told Kyle truthfully. "His friends gave him an alibi for the time your mom went missing; but I can find a way to make that go away. Do you know the names of any of his friends?"
Kyle clenched his jaw while he thought about my question.
"No, I don't," he shook his head helplessly, then hung it. "Will that make it more difficult for you to help?"
I couldn't lie to him. "It will, but I don't usually let that stop me. I can still investigate, and in the meantime, I can try to get some friends watch your family so no one else gets hurt like your mother did."
Kyle looked at me again, searching my face. I could tell he didn't know what to do here; he wanted to be able to rely on someone, but his history had given him reason to think there wasn't anyone he could.
Something in my tone, or my demeanour must have gotten through, however, because he gave a way, gradual nod.
"Please," he forced out softly.
I squeezed his shoulder; I didn't tell him it was going to be okay-I didn't know that-but I did tell him this: "I'm going to do my best to get that man out of your life, Kyle. You have my word."
With that promise, I sealed my fate.
I wanted to get Kyle somewhere safe right away, but he wouldn't leave his aunt-and that probably would have been a giant giveaway that he'd talked-as would getting someone to watch out for him, as anyone I could get at this short notice probably wouldn't be all that subtle.
So, I had to let him go back-against my better judgement-without any kind of protection or guarantee that he would be okay. It went against every fiber of my being, but, unfortunately, I had no other option.
I grudgingly left Kyle to walk home alone and returned to my own residence to debate on what my next step should be. Obviously, I'd taken the case and not only because of my inability to turn away from a child in need.
The information I had cobbled together from Frank and my meeting with Kyle wasn't a lot, but it was enough for me to realize the tale sounded oddly familiar.
Angel had told me a little about his partner's past, and what he'd told me was almost exactly what I'd heard about what was happening to Kyle: a man had come into his life, seemingly out of nowhere, on his mother's arm, abused her, made her disappear and then, taken up with his aunt, There were certain differences, of course, but there were far too many similarities for me to ignore.
Even the names of the man who'd killed Louis' mother and the one who was currently terrorizing Kyle were practically the same; Deber and Debhos.
Bizarrely, I found myself wondering if the two were connected somehow. Was history intentionally repeating itself?
I stared at my notes, continuing to turn the meeting over in my head. Come to think of it, the boy had kind of reminded me of Louis-when he wasn't verbally abusing me or his boyfriend. There was a faint darkness to him, like a sleeping predator for just waiting to be woken. And there was a darkness in his eyes that I had never seen in a teenage boy before.
I frowned, tapping the end of my pen against the surface of the wooden table thoughtfully. I'd tried to do some digging into Deber after Angel had told me about him-just out of curiosity-and, from what little I'd been able to find, he and Debhos could have almost been the same person
I really wanted to get a look at this guy before I made any assumptions, however; going to check him out at Kyle's house most likely wouldn't be the best idea, so I was clearly going to have to find another place-one that would be less likely to end up with me getting my ass handed to me.
Perhaps his place of business, or somewhere a little more neutral.
As I pondered an alternative, my phone rang in my jacket pocket. I fished it out and read the caller ID. It was Lee Cole.
"Lee," I answered the call with a slight smile. "How are you?"
"I should be asking you that," Lee said kindly, and I heard the genuine affection in her tone; a rarity with the people I spoke to, including her husband. My relationship with him, my former partner, was rather up and down, but ever since I had saved their daughter up in Dark Hollow, Lee had treated me like one of the family. "But really, I called to see what happened with Kyle. Frank told me you were meeting with him today. Please tell me you're taking the case. I can't stand to see that boy abused another second."
There was franticness in her words now, and unconcealed concern. I was glad to be able to take at least some of that away.
"I met with him, and I am," I confirmed consolingly, setting my pen down on top of my notebook with a quiet breath.
Lee let out a sigh, like a huge weight had been lifted off her.
"Oh, thank you, Charlie," she exclaimed gratefully. "I know you probably shouldn't be working so soon after getting out of the hospital. But I'm sure Frank told you about Debhos getting away with killing Kyle's mother; Walter's tried to help, but there's not a lot he can do from New York and, short of killing Debhos myself, there isn't much I can do, either."
I understood her dilemma and Frank's; it was the plight of every person who ever saw someone getting hurt but couldn't do anything about it without compromising something of ourselves in the process. I'd experienced it myself many times before, and it was a pain like no other, one I wouldn't wish on anyone-especially someone as good as Lee.
That was the other reason I couldn't resist getting involved in this. It would have been the only reason had Kyle's problems not struck such a chord with me.
"I'm fine, Lee," I assured her, waving away her concern-although I tried not to sound so cavalier about it, lest she think there was something else underneath it. I couldn't quite keep myself from making a sarcastic quip, though. "As long as this Debhos guy doesn't try to sleep with me, I'll stay that way."
Lee let out a fake chiding laugh as I continued to speak.
"Speaking of which, you wouldn't happen to know where Debhos works, do you? I'd like to try and get a glimpse of him before I decide how to handle it."
"Oh," I could tell Lee wasn't prepared for me to ask that. "I'm afraid I don't. I think Frank said he did something to do with construction, but I don't really recall. I can ask him to find out and get back to you?"
I set my pen down. It wasn't really what I was hoping for, but it wasn't nothing, either. "I'd really appreciate it, thanks."
I heard Lee give a hum of assent.
"I'll call him right now. Oh, and Charlie? Thanks again," Lee repeated before ending the call.
I put my phone back in my pocket, then went to go find my laptop. I didn't know long it would take for Tedor to get me what I wanted, so, in the meantime, I was going to try discovering it on my own,
