Some may be offended by the language in this chapter. That wasn't the intent but it was a creative decision that I believe to be the right one given the characters and the theme of this story.
I turn away from her, my thoughts connecting more dots along the path, I let my door fly out of my hand, "Ruby, call the BP, and have the manager, Bill, pull all the video from the past week."
She looks up, "Ok, will do."
"Whatcha thinking?" She asks, arms still folded, meeting where I am in the room and in my mind.
"Motive."
She pauses, "Precipitating factor, observation and inference, hmmm, basic homicide principles."
"Yup" I turn facing her, "and Sherlock Holmes."
"But why the BP, Walt?" The dots getting closer together.
"Why not?" She's standing next me, big brown eyes soaking it all in, "Vic, go look at the video and work your way backward. I'm thinking Trish had to know who Jason was, who he belonged too, this was too personal."
I step over to the cell; Bart is sitting on the bunk, leaning forward, the confession position. I unlock the door, his eyes follow me as I sit in on the bunk opposite him, and lean forward.
"Bart, you wanna tell me or you want me to draw my own conclusions?"
Our eyes meet and I think of the scrawny kid sitting next to me in the cafeteria, his blue eyes faded from worry, "You always were clever." His eyes find his shoes then find me again, "I think I kinda always envied you that."
"I think I never thought we would be having this conversation, Bart, I never saw you as that man I saw back in your barn."
My eyes stay with him as his head drops down for just a blink, his fingers rub together, his head is back up looking at me. The momentary glimpse, the tell that reveals the tale of truth.
"Why did Trish come home?"
"I told you why she came home."
"But you didn't want her home did you, Bart?"
"No." He doesn't hesitate, he doesn't pause, it's the truth.
I wait.
"I promised Amy that Trish would get out of Durant. Trish is smarter than both of us put together." He smiles a bit at that, "and I kept that promise up till a few months ago." His jaw clinches; the memories are dripping in through the fine cracks of defense.
"Amy died about a year before my Martha." It's a statement. I remember.
He shakes his head.
"The promises we make." I grumble, "I meant mine." I look to the window and back at Bart, "Did you?"
"Yeah, Walt, I did."
"I promised to take care of Cady. Can't say I've always done a good job, though, but I do my best."
"Trish came back home different."
I wait and listen as he leans forward a tad more concentrating on his hands hanging between his knees. The metal springs underneath the thin mattress squeak.
"She hates me for sending her to college. She hates Amy for dying." His eyes glisten as he drops the barrier gates, "I can't fix her. I can't fix the world we live in."
"What happened at school, Bart?"
He looks away and back at me.
"Did you fix her mistake?"
Our eyes are locked and I'm not moving mine.
"Wasn't no mistake."
This is the point where every cop faces an ethical dilemna. I need to read him his rights but if I do, I may lose what I need and every time I get to this point I have to remind myself that justice is a noun and a verb.
"Bart, I wanna know the truth. I'm gonna do right by you and tell you that you have the right to an attorney even if you don't have the money for one it's not a problem. I can get the public defender over here for free and they can be here while we talk because anything you say is probably gonna be used later in court against you. The other thing is that you have the right to not say anything, you know, you can be silent but I hope you will talk to me about all of this."
Bart shakes his head.
"You got any questions, Bart? You understand everything?"
"Yeah, I do."
My hands drop between my knees as I mirror him and I wait. The virtue of silence is on my strongest strength in this moment.
"Trish wants to be a doctor. She needs to understand why her mom had a brain aneurism but being away, Walt, was hard on her." He eyes glisten a little more the blue eyes turn grey.
"It's hard with a girl." He chuckles, "Why am I telling you that?"
"It is." It's true.
"She failed one of her classes and it sent her into a tailspin. She just up and left. Hell she didn't tell me until a letter came to the house for her and I raised hell until she came out with the truth." He wipes his eyes with his palms, "I wasn't even mad she failed her class I just didn't want her to quit."
Still sitting silent, I move my hands out just a little past my knees as I listen.
"She stayed in that barn and blasted music all the damn time. I figured it would pass, you know, as those things do but it got worse and then…" His voice trails off and he puts his hands to his face.
"Then Friday night happened."
He shakes his head still holding his hands up, shielding his face, his shame apparent.
"What Trish tell you, Bart?"
"She hit that boy on purpose but she panicked when he didn't die right away. She drove him out a ways and tried digging a hole but that didn't work." The first tear trails down his cheek.
"Trish came and got me, I got my pistol, and we went back out there with a shovel but this dog was standing guard so I shot the dog then I dug a hole and put him in there. That tar baby was just a screamin' and carryin' on so I shot him too. To shut him up."
Bart leans forward, air exhaling from his lungs, our hands practically touching.
"It's ok, Bart."
"Is it, Walt?"
"You were protecting, Trish." I have to be his friend right now. I have to be his friend so I can be a titan for justice.
"I never thought you would knock on my door Walt. Never in a million years but I knew when you did you were too smart and too damned stubborn to let it go."
"Where's Trish."
"I can't tell you that, Walt. Not that."
We sit together.
"You think God will forgive me, Walt?
"Has to."
"Has to?"
"That's his promise Bart."
He sorta smirks remembering that part.
"But it's not mine."
I stand up and walk to the cell door and turn around, my hands on my hips, as I look around the cell and back down at him.
"Your legacy will keep you alive in prison. It'll probably make you a hero. It'll keep Trish alive in prison too but there's one thing that'll keep me alive."
"What's that?"
"Your family, your family tree, your hate, it ends here, today in Durant."