1/5/2020

AN: Hey howdy hey, folks! Here's a pretty long chapter for you guys! I've been kind of writer's block-y lately but hopefully, I'll be able to get a few more chapters done before I go to school in a few weeks (ugh). How can winter break already be almost over? (cries) Anyway, hope you guys enjoy! Also, PLEASE read my author's note at the end (sorry for the length). Nothing bad, I just clear a few things up that I kept forgetting about. :)

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death, possibly eating disorders.

The restaurant seemed to have fallen into a hushed silence with all eyes on the front windows as James plowed towards the entrance. He threw open the front door, stopping with the boys and his sister hot on his heels. There were several squad cars parked in front of the restaurant, as well as across the street. The sidewalk was blocked off with cones and a guard on each side. Andrew was leaning against one of the patrol cars, hands behind his back and bound with a set of handcuffs as an officer kept a firm grip on his upper arm. Brooke was in the midst of what seemed to be a quickly escalating argument with Mr. Garcia.

"A little warning would have been nice," she snapped, arms folded across her chest. Nikki stood beside her, looking equally as upset but remaining silent.

"Brooke, you know I can't-"

"For goodness' sake, you think he killed his own kid?!"

"What's going on?" James suddenly interjected, coming to his mother's side.

Brooke fixed Carlos' father with a harsh glare. "What does it look like?"

"Brooke, it's protocol," Mr. Garcia continued, running a hand across his face. "I've got to do it." He sighed heavily. "There've been developments. Based on our current evidence, I have to make an arrest."

"What evidence?" Nikki scoffed.

"I can't talk about this here." He turned to Brooke. "I need all of you to come down to the station with me. You and James and Nikki and the girls. We have to speak with all of you."

Gwen scoffed. "I don't even live here anymore."

"I said I need to speak with all of you," Mr. Garcia snapped. He fixed her with a hard glare. "You wanna drive yourself, or would you like a ride in the back of one of my cars?"

Gwen heaved a sigh. "I'll drive myself," she answered, turning and heading back into Shorty's for her jacket and keys.

Mr. Garcia turned and leaned heavily on the side of the patrol car. "I'm sorry, Andy," he said quietly.

Andrew shook his head as the policeman guarding him opened the back door and civilly pushed him inside. "It's not your fault." He sent a quick glance to his family before Brooke grabbed Macey and headed towards their own car.

James fought to keep his voice from shaking. "Dad. . ."

Andrew shook his head, remarkably calm. "It's fine, Jamie. Just go. I'll see you there, okay?" James nodded. "Everything's fine." The second policeman closed the door and hurried around the other side, climbing into the driver's seat. A few moments later, the car peeled away from the curb and headed down the street, turning left at the light to head towards the station.

James felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he turned. He was met with the worried and confused faces of his friends. "Come on," Kendall said quietly. "My Mom'll drive you."

"This shouldn't take long."

The reassuring statement from Mr. Garcia did nothing for James as the door thumped closed behind him. The room looked just like every interview room on tv, with grey walls and a single table with two chairs to the left and absolutely nothing else inside. Mr. Garcia headed around the table and motioned for James to take the chair opposite him as he sat down. He set a file on the table and flipped it open with a sigh.

"I just need to ask you a few questions," Mr. Garcia assured him. "You're not in trouble, I promise."

"Where's my mom?" James asked, pulling the chair out so he could sit down. His family had been out of sight by the time they'd arrived, and James was pulled aside almost immediately by Mr. Garcia, leaving the boys and Kendall's mother and Katie in the lobby of the station.

"She's in another room with one of my officers," Mr. Garcia answered. "So are the girls. I just finished speaking with Gwen." He sighed heavily fixed James with a defeated expression. "She's um. . ." He stopped, seeming to decide against whatever he'd been planning to say.

"She wasn't always like that," James said quietly.

Mr. Garcia nodded. "Yeah, I know." He sighed again, coming through the file before pulling out a few sheets of paper. "This'll be quick, James," he promised again. "I just need to ask you some questions."

"My dad didn't do anything wrong."

". . . I believe that."

James sat forward. "Then why did you arrest him?"

"James. . ." Mr. Garcia ran a hand across his face. "I didn't want to start with this, but. . . Based on new. . . evidence, I had to arrest him. Legally, I had no choice."

"What evidence?" He regretted the question almost instantly when he saw the dark look in Mr. Garcia's eyes.

The older man folded his hands in front of him, seemingly preparing himself. James was fairly certain he stopped breathing as he waited. "We found Landon about a dozen miles from where the boys found the car. Nearby. . . we found a hammer. A hammer from the toolkit in the back of your father's SUV. Looked like someone tried to bury it but was in a rush so they just left it. We were able to pull a few fingerprints off of the handle, as well as from the interior of the vehicle." He took a deep breath. "James, your father's DNA was all we found."

". . . But it was his hammer. Of course-"

"Of course his fingerprints would be all over it," Mr. Garcia conceded. "I know. And those guys could have been wearing gloves, so it would make sense. But. . . there should be unknown DNA in that car. Even if someone was wearing gloves or a mask or whatever. . . there should be hair or fluid or blood or something. When they stopped in the woods, they got Landon out of that car seat without breaking a strap. That means those guys somehow wrangled a worked-up kid outta that car without getting so much as a scratch. . . or Landon knew the person and didn't put up a fight when they took him out." He sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. "Forensically, there was no one else in that car, James. According to everything in front of me. . . I have to charge your dad."

James bit his lip, shaking his head as he struggled to find his voice. "He didn't do this."

Mr. Garcia nodded. "I don't think he did. I think something else is going on here, and that's why I need you and your family to help me. I need to know anything you know."

"You think someone framed him?"

". . . I'm not thinking that cynically yet, but. . . it's a possibility. Right now, I think it's a very unfortunate set of circumstances. Sometimes that happens."

"And people go to prison because of that? Because of . . . circumstances?"

Mr. Garcia hesitated. "Some do," he said carefully. "And it's not right. But that's not what I handle. What I handle is determining whether a person goes to trial." He sighed. "I don't think it'll come to that, but. . . we're covering our bases." He ran a hand tiredly through his hair again. "Anything you can tell me could help, even if you think it's insignificant."

James nodded.

"How was your father when you were growing up? Did he have a quick temper?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Was he ever violent with you kids?"

"Never."

"What about your mother? Did she ever let on that he'd hit her?"

"No. Even when they fought, nothing. . . they never put a hand on each other."

Mr. Garcia swallowed hard. "Did your father ever. . . touch you in a way that was-"

"Absolutely not."

Carlos' father nodded. "Have you been in contact with your family in the last few months?"

"Um. . . yeah, sort of. I mean, I talk to my parents but not every day."

"Did they ever let on that there were issues? Maybe. . . anything serious going on?"

James' brow furrowed. "No. Why, was there?"

Mr. Garcia hesitated. James noticed. "That's what I'm asking you. Did your father mention any problems with people? Issues with business colleagues or coworkers or friends?"

James shook his head. "Not that I remember."

"What about your mother or stepmother? Do they have any issues with anyone?"

"I don't think my Mom does. And I don't talk to Nikki, so. . ."

Mr. Garcia nodded, setting his pen down and looking over the paper before shoving it back into the file folder. "That's about all I need for now. It's just for character testimony, in case he goes to trial."

". . .Do you think he will?"

The officer shook his head. "I doubt it. The evidence is circumstantial, and we have good character testimonies. They wouldn't have much to go on if they tried." He sighed. "I'm gonna do everything I can, James."

James struggled to keep his voice even. "I know you will."

Mr. Garcia gave him a somber smile before rising. "Let's head back out. I'm sure your mother's finished."

His mother certainly was finished. Brooke Diamond was already in the lobby, appearing to have a heated discussion with a young officer at the counter with Nikki and a still hand-cuffed Andrew by her side. Another officer stood on his left, guarding him.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Mr. Diamond's bail is set at $750,000."

". . .Do you think we have almost $1 million lying around?!"

"That's actually pretty low. Most murderers' are set way higher."

"I'm not a murderer," Andrew spat as Brooke narrowed her eyes at the man, clearly new at his job since he had the tact of a brick wall.

"Jeremiah," Mr. Garcia said in a warning tone as he and James entered the room.

James walked hesitantly over to Mrs. Knight, who was sitting alone in a seating area directly adjacent to the counter. His sisters were in the general, vicinity, spaced out in chairs far apart from one another. "Mama K?" he asked quietly, sending a glance to Mr. Garcia as he tried to pacify his parents.

"The boys are in the back," Mrs. Knight answered quickly, patting the seat beside her. James took it. "Your mother's trying to post bail, but I don't think that man's being very cooperative."

A few seats away, Gwen scoffed, keeping her eyes on her cellphone. "The cop or Dad?"

"Can we give you half today and the other in. . . a couple of days?" Andrew asked Mr. Garcia.

Carlos' father shook his head. "Andy, you know I can't do that."

"I'm not sleeping in a cell for something I didn't do."

Brooke sighed in frustration, crossing her arms over her chest. She turned to Andrew. "I'm gonna go call my business manager," she said. "See what he can come up with."

"Brooke don't do that. This isn't your job."

She nodded. "It is. I'll be right back." She headed for the bathroom, pulling her cellphone from her pocket as she did so. The entrance door of the station creaked open, and she turned.

James looked in the direction of the sound as well. Standing in the doorway was Mato Wilson, his father's colleague and one of his closest friends. Unsure what the man was doing there, James nearly voiced a greeting before he stopped.

The room had gone deafeningly silent, save for the thump of the door as it closed behind the newcomer. Brook had stopped in her tracks, staring almost shell-shocked before turning back to Mr. Garcia with an accusatory glare. Nikki quickly tensed, glancing between Andrew and the other man nervously. Mr. Garcia angrily whispered something unintelligible to the younger policeman. Gwen and Mrs. Knight looked equally as confused, and James glanced at his father curiously before a dark feeling swept over him.

His father flushed a deep shade of red as he narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?" he spat with a venom James was unaccustomed to. The tone of voice startled him, and he glanced quickly to the other man, confused. What was going on?

Mato held his hands up defensively, inching forward but remaining by the door. "I just came to help you-"

"I don't want your help!"

"Yeah, well, you need it."

"I don't want it or need it! Now, get away from my family!"

Mr. Garcia came around the front of the desk, hands out as though he was prepared to keep the two men apart. "Andrew, maybe-"

"Craminy sakes, Andy, let it go!"

Andrew got, if possible, even redder. He looked as though he were about to have a stroke. "'Let it go?!'" He lunged forward, screaming almost unintelligibly in Mato's face. Brooke cried out, launching herself forward and yelling at him to stop as the officers and Mr. Garcia did the same. He grabbed Andrew around the front, dragging him backwards and screaming for him to calm down as Mato backed up into the corner of the room, startled. James and Gwen were on their feet in an instant, and Mrs. Knight rose as well, putting a hand on James' shoulder as if to keep him in place (like he was going to throw himself in the middle of that. . . yeah, okay).

It only took a few moments for Carlos' father to gain the upper hand. He hauled Andrew to the side and threw him into one of the lobby's chairs, keeping a firm hold on the collar of his shirt. "You're not helping yourself!" he snapped, seething. He turned to Jeremiah, the younger cop who'd by now come around the desk with his hand on the grip of his taser. "Take him back there," he ordered, gesturing to Mato with a distasteful tone. Jeremiah quickly obeyed with a nod and urged Mato into one of the interview rooms.

Brooke hurried across the room as the rest of its occupants stood silent in shock. "Gwen," she said quietly to her eldest. "Take James and Macey home."

"And miss all the fun here?"

"Gwen, now."

Gwen sighed but backed off, muttering an, "Okay," before grabbing her keys and motioning for her younger siblings to follow her. James reluctantly complied, shooting a worried glance at his father as they headed out the door.

. . .What was going on?

"What the heck happened back there?" James asked, breaking the silence as they drove home a few minutes later. He swung around to face Macey in the backseat. She shrugged, shaking her head.

"Mato and Dad were always like this." He crossed his fingers. "What happened with them? Why was Dad so upset?"

Macey shook her head again. 'I don't know,' she signed.

James huffed and turned back around, letting his head thump against his seat.

Beside him, Gwen sighed, adjusting her hands on the steering wheel. "I'm sure your fans will have a field day with this," she muttered as they sped along a back road.

From the passenger seat, James sent her a glare. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," she protested, raising a hand in defense. "Paparazzi's gonna go nuts." She scoffed, taking a turn rather quickly. "Do you think he did it?"

James turned to her, brow furrowed. "You're kidding me, right? Do you know him at all?"

"Uh, we all thought we knew him, until suddenly there was a fourth Diamond child that didn't come out of Mom."

James swallowed his next remark as his cellphone buzzed in his hand.

"Who is it?"

"Kendall."

Gwen took her eyes off the road for a moment to try to sneak a peek at his screen. "What's going on?"

James rolled his eyes. "Let me read it first. . .they're on their way home now, I think." He squinted, struggling to read the text message as the car slammed into and out of yet another pothole. Was she aiming for them?

"Did he say what went down after we left?"

"No."

"Wow, he's helpful." The car suddenly lurched, and Gwen slammed on the breaks with a curse. "Son of a. . ." The vehicle came to a grinding halt as smoke began steaming up from the hood. Gwen threw the gearshift into park and yanked her keys out before kicking open her door in frustration. "Of all the lousy, no good, dirty rotten. . ." she trailed off as the door shut behind her and she approached the front of the car.

James huffed, reluctantly following suit and shutting his door to join her at the front of the car as she popped the hood. Smoke billowed out, making them both cough.

"Engine block's cracked," Gwen explained, leaning over the car to peer inside. "This stupid thing always does this."

"Well, maybe if you got a car that wasn't last serviced in the 80s, this wouldn't happen."

"James?"

"What?"

"Shut up," Gwen grunted in frustration, putting her hands on her hips. "This thing's not budging."

"Well, what do you normally do for it?"

". . . I take it to a guy who wields it shut."

"You can't just get a new one?"

Gwen scoffed. "You'd have to get a new engine, and I can't afford a new engine." She winced, gesturing feebly to the car. "Not that this fossil could handle one, anyway." She slammed the hood shut a bit more forcefully than necessary and headed around the driver's side of the car. She yanked open the back door. "Come on," she told Macey. "We're gonna push."

"We're gonna push?" James echoed in dismay. "We're like, two miles from Mom's!"

"I'm not paying a tow truck to pull this thing two miles when we can do it for free." She moved around to the back, chuckling sarcastically. "Good thing I didn't wear heels today."

James sighed heavily, pulling off his suit jacket and chucking it into the front seat before rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt. He glanced at Macey, still planted firmly in the backseat. "Mace, come on."

'I'm not pushing this car.'

". . . Just, come on, okay? Don't start anything."

'I'm not starting anything.'

"No, you're just-"

"Are you guys coming?" Gwen asked, coming around to Macey's side of the car. Macey signed to her, and Gwen looked at James a bit expectantly since she'd never learned to sign.

"She says she's not pushing," James answered reluctantly.

Gwen wiped the back of her hand across her nose before sighing in annoyance. "Well," she began, a bit irritably, "if you want, we can leave you here while we push, and you can hitchhike with whoever drives by. Because we're not pushing this car with you in it."

Macey stared at her, crossing her arms over her chest. 'I'm. Not. Pushing.'

Gwen glared at her for a moment, then scoffed and returned to the back of the car, muttering something.

'What did you say?' Macey climbed out of the car, turning to face her. 'What did you say?' she mouthed so her sister could understand her.

Gwen straightened up but leaned on the trunk of the car. "I said cut the entitled bull crap."

'I'm not entitled.'

"Yes, you are. Mom and Dad cater to you. Everyone has to learn to sign because Macey doesn't want to talk. Macey needs special schooling. Macey can't get a normal job, so Dad lets her work with him for twice the money he'd pay other kids."

'That's not true!'

"Yes, it is! They baby you; they always have. I didn't get that when I was a kid. If I had a problem, I dealt with it on my own."

'Yeah, we've all seen how you deal with things.'

"Okayyyyy!" James said quickly, coming around the car and standing between them. "I think we're done here. How about we leave the car and tell Mom when she gets back, huh? Then she'll just call a tow truck herself," he turned to Gwen, "and you won't even have to pay for it."

"I'm not leaving my car out here!" Gwen argued.

Macey cocked her head to the side. 'Why? What else is in it?'

"Stop, now," James whispered to her through gritted teeth.

"None of your business," Gwen spat.

"Stop," James snapped at her, keeping himself in between the two.

Gwen huffed. "See? You yell at me but not at her. You guys coddle her! You're such a baby!"

'Yeah, well at least I'm not a crackhead that dropped out of high school.'

"Macey!"

Gwen narrowed her eyes. "Say that again," she challenged, taking a step forward.

James fought to keep her back. "Stop it!"

"No!" Gwen cried, pushing him firmly aside. "Say that again and see what happens!"

A sudden blast of a car horn startled them, and James turned as his mother switched her emergency blinkers on and pulled to the side of the road behind them. She climbed out, irritated. "What in Heaven's name are you guys doing on the side of the road?"

"Her car broke down," James tried to explain, raising his voice to be heard above Gwen's yelling.

"And you didn't text me?"

"I didn't get there yet, Mom!" James shouted angrily. Couldn't his mother see he was trying to stop bigger problems from starting?

"Excuse me, would you like to rethink that tone, James?"

"Say that again!" Gwen continued beside him.

Macey inched backward but crossed her arms over her chest. 'At least I'm not a crackhead that dropped out of high school.'

Gwen gave her a look that could kill. "Yeah, well at least I can speak. Heck, a dog's got one up on you."

'B-back off.' Macey visibly struggled to get the word out, even though no sound came out of her mouth, and James winced.

"'B-b-back off!'" Gwen mocked.

Macey launched herself forward, colliding with Gwen's midsection and just about knocking her off her feet. James almost cussed out loud, staggering back as they nearly fell into him. His mother screamed, then seemed to get a hold of herself enough to yell, "James, stop them!"

James stared at her a bit incredulously as Gwen grabbed a fistful of Macey's hair and took them both to the ground. "I'm not a referee, Mom!"

Gwen cried out as Macey sent a kick into her shin, and Brooke dove forward, catching Gwen by the collar of her dress and yanking her off Macey before pulling her youngest haphazardly to her feet. "Stop it!" she bellowed in a tone that made all three children freeze. "Right now!" She gave Macey a shove in the opposite direction. "Get in the car." She exhaled shakily, running a tired hand across her forehead. "Thank you for the help, James," she uttered sarcastically before turning and heading for her car.

James scoffed, speechless. Why was everything his fault?! He huffed, turning to face Gwen before he realized she was still on the ground. She was sitting hunched over on her heels, holding her stomach and looking slightly green.

"Gwen, she didn't hit you that hard," James said quietly, unsure if he was trying to joke with her or not. Gwen didn't answer but continued breathing hard. "Are you okay?" James asked, stepping towards her cautiously and reaching a hand out to touch her shoulder.

His sister's head snapped up almost immediately as she glared at him. "Don't touch me."

The venom in her voice startled him, and he pulled his hand back. "Wh. . . I was just trying to he-"

"I don't want your help!" she snapped. "Just get away from me. Tell Mom I'm walking."

"You're gonna walk two mi-"

"James."

"Okay!" He scoffed, throwing his hands up defensively and heading for the car. "Do me a favor and go back to your crummy boyfriend," he called over his shoulder.

"Will do. . ."

James huffed, yanking open the passenger door of his mother's car and climbing inside. "She said she's walking," he informed her as he closed the door. Brooke didn't seem to question it. She put the car in drive and took off down the road. James resisted the worrying urge he felt to look back at his sister as they drove away. She didn't want his help.

He was done caring.

AN: Hey dudes! Okay, so I wanted to clear some things up in case anybody was confused, or just in case you guys were wondering. And I certainly don't want to offend anyone, so PLEASE read this.

I wanted to point out that the Diamonds use a form of Sign Language known as Pidgin Signed English (PSE). Recently, this was renamed to "Conceptually Accurate Signed English" but I'm going to stick with PSE for now. PSE is NOT ASL, but I call it as such in this story so nobody gets confused. There are several different types of Sign Language used in the U.S., but PSE is reportedly the most common used among people whose primary language is English (ie, those who learned to sign later in life. It is used in both Deaf and Hearing households).

ASL is not English. It has its own syntax and grammar, among other differences. ASL's syntax (aka the word order in the sentence) typically follows the pattern of "Time + Topic + Comment" in very simple sentences. ASL also uses an entirely different grammar. For example, the word "beautiful" is conveyed by using the sign "beauty." The "-ful" is dropped, as is the case in many added endings in English words like "-ing" etc. If a person was to say, "She is beautiful," in ASL, they would sign, "Beauty + she." ASL drops unnecessary words like "be" verbs, among several others. It would very difficult for me to write any signed lines in this story using ASL grammar and syntax since I would probably mess up the complex sentences.

PSE, on the other hand, uses all the same signs and grammar as ASL, however, the syntax is switched to that of English. In other words, PSE also drops the added endings of words like "-ful" and "-ing," and does not sign "be" verbs, but its word order is the same as English. "She is beautiful" would be signed, "She + beauty." PSE is not considered a language on its own because it is a pidgin language (a combination of two languages).

PSE is not to be confused with SEE (Signed Exact English). This is completely different but it's not relevant to the forms of Sign Language used in this story.

Since Macey is hearing and the Diamonds' first language is English, I find it highly unlikely that they would use the correct form of ASL, particularly since James is the only family member who signs back to his sister (if I didn't make that clear before, I am now, lol. Brooke and Andrew know PSE but do not sign back to Macey. James does). I think it's much more realistic that James and Macey would simply use the signs but put them in the English word order, especially since they learned to sign at later ages. PSE also makes it much easier to speak and sign at the same time, which is why James periodically does so. I'm sure some people can speak English and sign in ASL at the same time, but I certainly can't, lol. I use PSE (no, I'm not fluent, but I'm trying).

PSE is easier for those who want to sign but don't frequently interact with the Deaf and HOH Community, because the syntax is similar to English. But ASL is the true language that it derives from, and I think any signer should make it their goal to become as fluent in ASL as possible, out of respect.

End of my rant, lol. OBVIOUSLY, none of that information is mine. It came from various websites on ASL and other forms of Sign Language, which I, of course, can't post the links to. But absolutely none of that came from my own head. The examples used in explaining the syntax and grammar are also extremely common and can be found on several websites or YouTube videos.

I just wanted to clear that up, though, in case anyone was curious and also so that no one got upset. So, yes, James and Macey don't use true ASL, but I'm calling it that just for the sake of this story. No offense intended.

Anywayyyyyyy, I hope you guys liked this chapter! Thank you for sticking with me, and thank you if you got through this last note, lol. Please review!

God bless and much love,

-downtonabbey15

P.S. Please let me know if any of the above information is wrong. I really fact checked myself but please don't hesitate to correct me. :)