Sorry for the delay, and thanks to everyone for the support I've gotten this past week :) You guys are the best! Let me know what you think and as always, thanks for reading.
Still don't own, still make no money.
Chapter 2: Police Station
Craig wasn't surprised when Jeremiah offered to drive them all to the police station. Apparently the plan had been that Jeremiah would meet them all there, but he had figured his services would be needed, and despite the fact that he was right, no one was about to come right out and thank him. Bobby's car was in the shop, Angel still didn't have any kind of vehicle, and Sofi's car had been totaled as well. Sofi's brother had loaned the family a vehicle, but it turned out to be an ancient AMC Gremlin. The car was supposed to be a classic, according to Sofi's brother; but the wide, stubby compact, aged nearly thirty years, was showing wear and rust; and the ride was pretty cramped.
Bobby refused to drive it, Angel ducked down to hide when he was riding in it, and Jack was the only one who drove it because he liked the way it steered. Of course he was awarded for this with the usual gay jokes from Bobby and Angel. Craig had listened from the couch the day before while Bobby and Angel both jabbed fun at Jack's apparent approval of the car, and he half wished Jack would fight back against the two older men and the fun they were poking in his direction, not because he cared about Jack being made fun of, but because the jokes seemed so old and monotonous. He was tired of listening to them.
Jack seemed to be dealing with the jokes a little differently than he had before, he just smiled right along with them and laughed while he took the keys from Bobby, apparently feeling that having the chance to be the driver in the family for a change was worth the gay jokes, for now. Craig hadn't said anything, he had acted as if he hadn't heard or paid any attention to any of it. He didn't really care what his brothers were doing, it didn't matter.
Craig climbed into the back seat of the Volvo, and was surprised when Bobby moved into the back seat as well pushing the boy into the middle. Angel climbed in on Craig's other side while Jack got into the front seat. Craig wasn't sure how Jack had managed to get the front seat and to be honest he didn't care. He didn't want to be in the car, no matter who was sitting in the back seat with him. He wanted to be back in the house where he could hide from the rest of the world. The past few days he'd been able to push the rest of the world away and hold it at bay, now he was being thrust back into it. He wanted to feel pissed at Bobby for lying to him, but he didn't care, not really, just like everything else about his life, he just didn't give a shit.
"This shouldn't take long, kid." Bobby pulled his arm around the teen's shoulders in the same way that had become routine for both of them in the past month. Craig's muscles tensed up just as they had earlier when Angel had reached his arm around him in a similar way on the couch. He started to pull forward to put a few inches between himself and Bobby, but the man's hand found a hold on his shoulder and pulled him back with a quick motion, "Won't take too long at all, that's a promise." Craig tried to pinpoint exactly what it was in Bobby's voice that changed, despite the fact that he still sounded pleasant his tone took on an edge that Craig hadn't heard for a few days and had hoped not to hear for a while. It was that sound it had when Bobby was tense, or expected something.
Craig waited for Bobby to ease up the hold he had taken, but it didn't happen, in fact his brother pulled him a little closer, his arm hooked around his neck as if to keep him from pulling away and he leaned closer to the teen. "After we get this police shit out of the way, why don't you and me spend some time together, just the two of us? I ain't had time to talk to you the past couple of days like I wanted to. I'm sorry about that, but you know how crazy it's been, right?" He kept his voice quiet.
"I know." Craig muttered, trying to make it sound as if he really cared. He hadn't forgotten his brother's promise for a long talk and it wasn't something he was looking forward to if he had to be honest. He didn't want to talk, and he didn't want to be back under Bobby's radar. He had managed to avoid any uncomfortable talks or looks. He had been able to hide behind his books without anyone pushing him for something he wasn't ready to give, and now it seemed that short time of peace and solitude, the chance to hide inside himself was drawing to a close and he wasn't ready for that, just yet. "It's okay."
"Really, it's okay? Just like talking to the cops is okay?" Bobby's voice remained quiet, but sarcasm weaved into the syllables of each word. "Oh, hell, we really do need to talk." He shook his head and sat up in the seat, not releasing his hold on Craig.
Craig could feel his gut tense, and knew if the rest of his body was about to follow suit. He bit down on the inside of his mouth in an attempt to keep his nerves calm. He'd known his brother would eventually stop leaving him to himself, and he was going to have to deal with it.
Bobby didn't push it any further at the moment, thankfully, and the rest of the ride his brothers fell into their usual talk about insurance and cars and the warehouse and the project. Craig was able to tune it all out and fall into his safe, numb blankness. He was safe, at least for the time being, and there was no reason to worry about anything else for the moment.
The police house was buzzing with activity, and though Craig could feel his nerves prick at his insides his brothers seemed comfortable with their surroundings. The ease in which they moved through the halls and spoke to some of the uniformed officers should have given the boy some comfort but it had the opposite effect on him. There were a few officers that acknowledged the men, and the while the greetings weren't necessarily friendly, they weren't hostile. Obviously the presence of the Mercers in a police house was as awkward for most of the cops as it was for Craig, and the teen couldn't help but wonder why his brothers seemed so comfortable with their surroundings. There had been quite a few trips to the police station in the past couple of days but he couldn't quite adjust his way of thinking to the level he needed in order to understand how they seemed to fall into place in a police station.
The man that finally met them shook hands with each and said hello to them as if he'd known them for years and it had the irrational effect of irritating Craig a little. "Craig, I don't know if you remember me, I'm Sergeant Johnson." He held a hand out in Craig's direction, but the boy made sure to bury his hands deep in his coat pocket.
"Yeah, I remember you." Craig did remember him from the cemetery, and from the questioning that had followed. He was sure he'd seen him before as well, but didn't feel like putting too much effort into remembering.
Johnson's smile wavered slightly and he pulled his hands back.
Bobby's arm, still resting across Craig's shoulders, stiffened slightly. "Hey, you need to show some fucking manners here. This man saved us some major shit; you know that, don't you?"
"It's okay. He's not comfortable being here, I understand that. After some of the crap you've gone through recently with other officers, I can see why you'd be cautious." Johnson kept the smile as he spoke. "Why don't you go have a seat over there?" He pointed to what appeared to be a waiting area at the end of the hall.
Craig started to move towards the chairs, but Bobby didn't let go of him. "We really wanted to get this over with and get the hell out of here Johnson." Bobby pulled the boy closer to him. "That FBI guy that wanted to talk to him, where is he?"
Johnson sighed. "He's not here yet Bobby. But by the time you're finished he should be here."
"He ain't talking to him alone, you know that. I ain't leavin' here by himself either. He comes with us for our talk, and then when we're done if your buddy in the suit and tie ain't here he can forget any questions. What the hell does he need to ask him anyway?" Bobby didn't sound happy.
"You really want him sitting in on the questions they're going to be asking?" Johnson's smile faded as he looked at Bobby. "No one is going to bother him out here…"
"He ain't stayin' out here by his self." Bobby shook his head. "You got an office he can wait in? I might consider leavin' him in an office. Oh, shit, that's right, you ain't got a fuckin' office, you're just a little guy around here, ain't you Johnson?" Bobby let a grin spread across his face. "Shit, maybe we need to talk to someone around here with some real fucking clout, what the hell am I talking to you for?"
Johnson folded his arms across his chest and smiled as Bobby spoke. "You're right, I ain't got much clout around here, but I'm still the fucking hero, you know? I broke the Macks case wide open, and figured out who shot Green." He sounded amused.
"You didn't figure out shit, we did all your fucking work for you, and Green knows that." Bobby spoke quickly.
"Yeah, he knows it, but since you ain't fucking cops, that don't get you much around here." Johnson kept his smile plastered to his face and let out a sigh. "Okay, this is what we can do; we can let him sit at Green's desk while you guys are in the interview rooms." He spoke casually. "Will that work for you? I'll be hanging around out here anyway, and I'll keep an eye on him."
"Sounds reasonable to me," Jeremiah remarked quietly.
"No one will mess with him?" Bobby was giving in far too easy for Craig's comfort. He seemed to trust Johnson and it just felt wrong to the teenager.
"No one will mess with him." Johnson shook his head. "I give you my word."
Bobby turned Craig around to face him. "You gonna be okay by yourself for a few minutes? I won't be too long; I'll make sure of it."
Craig shrugged his shoulders. He didn't care if he was left alone for short time, but he wasn't comfortable there. He wasn't comfortable with Johnson, or with the way his brothers seemed to trust the cop so easily. "Sure." He answered Bobby after taking a look around him. He was surrounded by cops, and while he wasn't comfortable with his surroundings he'd never really had a problem with police, only with Higgins.
Johnson waited until his brothers were walking away before he walked Craig into a large room full of desks and pointed to where he could sit. "This is Green's desk." The boy wasn't surprised to find it neat and clean. It was what he would expect from the detective. A window view to the outside world was directly in front of him.
Johnson offered to get him a soda or some kind of snack, but Craig declined and the man excused himself, saying he had some papers he had to sign but that he'd be right back. There were other desks in the room, but no one was sitting in the immediate area. Craig let his body slouch down in the leather seat and pushed back from the desk a foot. The wheels on the chair made the ride a smooth one and he allowed himself to play with the movement, kicking away from the desk, waiting until the wheels stopped moving before pushing his way back to his starting point.
"Hey kid, you think you can sit still over there?" One of the officers sitting on the other side of the room called out.
Craig looked over and felt his face turning hot. He hadn't noticed the men sitting on the other end of the room. He sat up in the chair and slid back up to the desk. He looked out the window in front of him and waited.
There were officers walking past the doorway and there seemed to be a buzz of talking and activity in the hall just outside the door. Craig turned the chair around to face the back wall of the room, wishing he could get up and walk out of there. He wanted to be back at home. He didn't have a problem with the cops, but he had a problem with his brothers' apparent ease at being around the uniforms.
He didn't want to face the true reason for being there at that moment. His father had tried to kill the Mercer family. The fact that the man was dead now didn't matter; he could still see his face and feel his breath on his neck. He could hear his voice and he could remember how it had all made him feel. He wasn't afraid now, but he didn't like thinking about any of it. Being in a police station didn't help him in his efforts to hide out from what had happened the past month; it did the exact opposite because it threw it all in his face, preventing him from turning away.
A large white board on the side wall caught his attention. He held his breath as the pictures of his brothers tacked up on the board came into view. His picture wasn't there, but there were other photos, with lines leading from one picture to another, giving an appearance of a family tree with comments scrawled out in thick red or green marker. The teen turned and looked at the uniformed cop that had scolded him for playing with the chair and was satisfied he was too busy at the moment to pay any attention to what he was doing. He stood and stepped over to take a closer look. The white board seemed to map out everything that had happened to his family since Evelyn Mercer had been shot more than a month earlier.
Craig's mind followed the time line, amazed how much information could be placed on a board with so few words. There were no details written down, just basics; names and locations and actions taken by officers or victims or assailants. Craig followed the hand writing and pictures of his brothers. Jack being shot, his own kidnapping by Sweet, and Bobby, Jeremiah and Angel setting up Sweet, but how the cops knew about all of that didn't make sense. His brothers wouldn't have shared that much with the police would they? Green might have though; he had worked with the Mercers pretty tight back then.
The teenage gang attack on the Mercers the night Bobby's car had been incinerated was documented on the wall as well, with pictures of Anthony and some other boys. Craig followed the lines drawn from Anthony's name down to the bottom of the board where the boy was named as deceased and the date and location noted under that was all too familiar to the boy; the night he'd been dragged from Sofi's mother's apartment. Craig felt his heart thump hard in his chest and he felt confused. Anthony had been there that night? He'd died there?
His mind thought back to the last time he'd spoken to Anthony, in the grocery store. His friend had not been so friendly that evening, in fact it had been an obvious deduction that Anthony had played a part in trying to rig Bobby's car to blow up. Hell, he was in the gang, and at some point he'd gotten involved with Adam Macks. He had helped Craig's father, the boy had been able to figure that much out without anyone talking to him about it. He had dismissed Anthony in his mind, he hadn't thought about him, or wondered about him, and no one had mentioned him. He had been pissed at the older boy who had been such a good friend at one time, feeling betrayed by him all this time, blaming him for helping his father steal him away from the safety of his own home and turning his life into a living hell.
Seeing the word 'deceased' scrawled out in red marker under Anthony's picture just didn't set right with him at that moment. Why hadn't anyone told him Anthony was dead? Hell, he'd thought that Anthony was in jail, or hiding out somewhere, but he never would have guessed that he was dead, or that he had died that same night Craig had been dragged off against his will. If Anthony had been there, then his brothers knew about his death, they would have had to. Why didn't anyone tell him?
Craig stepped back from the board and looked at the rest of the notes and pictures and short comments scrawled out. The last several weeks of his life was mapped out in front of him and it made him feel uneasy. His eyes flicked back to the picture of Anthony. He could feel something stirring inside of him. Regret maybe? Sorry that he'd been angry with a dead friend? He wasn't sure. His emotions had shut down days before and he didn't want them to turn on now. He wasn't ready to face any of what might be lurking below the surface.
"Craig." Johnson called out from the doorway.
Craig turned and looked that cop, but didn't move.
"You found the board, huh?" Johnson walked towards him, a friendly smile on his face.
"Sorry." Craig muttered, sure that he was going to hear how the board was confidential, or it was part of the investigation and he shouldn't be messing with it.
"It's okay, it's not like you don't know the story, right?" Johnson stopped next to him. "I'm sure it's not easy for you to look at though." He sighed.
Craig didn't have a chance to answer before a tall man dressed in a black suit walked into the room. Johnson looked at the man and sighed loudly. "Agent Harris," He acknowledged the man's presence.
"Sergeant Johnson." The man in the black suit gave Johnson a nod. "I assume this young man is Craig Mercer?" His voice seemed void of any emotion and his movements looked calculated. Craig didn't like Agent Harris. There was something about him that turned his stomach.
"Yes, this is Craig Mercer." Johnson rested a hand on Craig's shoulder and guided him back towards the desk he'd been sitting at minutes before.
"Well good, we can get started with our interview then." Harris lifted his brief case and dropped it on top of a vacant desk close by.
"Not until his legal guardian is present, agent." Johnson looked at Craig. "Agent Harris is with the FBI, and he wants to ask you a few questions. Of course that is not going to happen until Bobby is finished with his statement and is able to sit with you during the interview."
Craig returned to the chair at Green's desk and looked up at Harris. "Okay." He muttered in response to Johnson. He watched Harris sit in the chair two desks away while Johnson leaned on the edge Green's vacant desk.
"Sergeant Johnson, I don't have a lot of time here, I have a report that I have to submit by the end of the day, today, and I need this wrapped up soon in order to meet my deadline." Harris started pulling files out of his briefcase. "I believe we can get started now." He didn't look at Craig at all.
"I understand that, Harris, but you have met Bobby Mercer. You really don't want to piss him off any more than you already have. He didn't want this young man to have to come down here at all, and you had him come in here despite that. What exactly are you trying to find out that you don't already know?" Johnson kept his voice even, but Craig had the impression that Johnson didn't like the FBI guy either.
"I'm sorry, that's not something that I can discuss with you." Harris finally looked at Craig. "You don't have a problem with me asking you a few questions, do you young man?"
Craig didn't answer. He didn't like the sound of Harris' voice. The man spoke to him as if he were a nuisance in the room and the boy wanted to tell him he didn't like being there and if he didn't talk to him better he wouldn't tell him shit.
"Like I said, Agent Harris, not until his brother is present." Johnson looked at Craig. "Why don't you come with me Craig? We'll go get a soda, and maybe some chips." He started walking towards the door.
Craig didn't want to get up, but he figured it was better than staying alone in the room with the FBI agent. He stood and followed Johnson into the hallway. "Why does he want to talk to me? I already talked to you once." He muttered.
"Yeah, you answered my questions, and more than likely he is going to ask you the exact same questions, but he has to do his job." Johnson led Craig down the hall towards a break area which held vending machines.
"But I already talked to you. Can't he use what I told you?" Craig asked the question even though he knew the answer.
"He'll ask the same questions, fishing for something to change in your statement, that's all. You just tell the truth and you'll be fine." Johnson assured him.
He didn't want to talk about his father, or the shit that had happened three days earlier. He'd been happy turning into a vegetable on the couch and his means of escaping from reality had been crashed in. He should have been pissed at Bobby for lying to him about going to the station, but he didn't have it in him. He should have been pissed at Harris for talking to him like an ass but again, he didn't have it in him.
Johnson put some change in one of the machines and hit a button. A can of orange soda was in his hand a moment later. He held it towards Craig. "You want?" He offered
Craig shook his head slowly. "No thank you." He spoke the words almost as an afterthought.
"How have you been the past few days?" Johnson asked.
Craig shrugged his shoulders. "Fine," He muttered. He didn't want to answer any questions from Johnson either; it wasn't as if he knew the man any better than he knew the FBI guy. He had to admit that when Johnson had asked him questions he'd kept it short and sweet. Not that Craig would have been very much help if the questioning had been more extensive, but Johnson seemed to be able to sense what Craig was comfortable talking about and kept it limited. Harris was going to ask harder questions, Craig had no doubt, and he wouldn't care if Craig liked the questions, or if he had any problems talking about what Adam Macks had done to him or his family.
Harris was cold and Craig didn't like him. He didn't like being at the police station and he didn't like finding out about Anthony. He wanted to be back at home where he could pick up his school book and hide from the rest of the world. That had been easy and safe and his thoughts could to run randomly through his head so that he didn't have to face anything directly. He wondered about the rest of the gang that had been associated with Anthony, how many of them had been involved with his father? How close had Anthony been with Adam? He wondered exactly how Anthony had died. It was something that would nag at him now. It wasn't that he really cared, but knowing might help him understand exactly had happened with Anthony in the end.
Johnson led him back up the hall, but he didn't take him into the same room where Harris was waiting, instead they went into a room across the hall. It looked similar, but there were more desks crowded into the small space, the rumble of voices was a little louder and the activity level was higher. Johnson sat down at a desk and motioned for Craig to sit in a nearby chair. "We'll wait in here until your brothers are finished." He set his soda on the desk and opened a file that was lying in front of him.
Craig waited quietly while Johnson riffled through his paperwork before turning to his computer and typing. The police detective was busy, and babysitting a teenager obviously wasn't something he needed on his agenda.
Craig let his body slide down in the chair and rested his head back while he looked around the room, wishing he could sink further into the chair and disappear. He always seemed to be in the way and he was getting tired of it. A small voice in the back of his head spoke quietly to him. 'You didn't ask to be dragged up here, so if you're in the way it's their fault, not yours.' He watched the men at the other desks, some talking on phones, some typing on their keyboards.
Time seemed to drag by, but finally Johnson's phone rang. Johnson answered the phone and nodded his head before looking at Craig and smiling. "Thanks, you can bring him to my desk." He hung up the phone. "Well, Bobby managed to get kicked out of his interview pretty damn quick." He didn't try to conceal his amusement. "He'll be here shortly." He shook his head.
Craig could hear the sound of his brother's voice long before he actually seen him. "I just want a fucking candy bar, is that too much to ask for? My ass is dragged down here at lunch time and no one can offer a little food? Shit, ain't your mama ever taught you the proper way to treat a guest? You're supposed to offer them some food." Bobby appeared in the door wearing a grin. The uniformed officer walking next to him stopped at the doorway and waited until Johnson gave him a quick nod before walking away.
"You're giving the uniforms a hard time again Bobby?" Johnson sat back in his chair, giving Bobby his full attention.
"Wouldn't have to if they would learn some manners," Bobby walked up to stand next to Craig. "What about you, kid, did this ass hole offer you any food?" He asked.
Craig nodded his head slowly, but didn't bother to look up at his brother or speak. Too many things seemed to overtake his brain once Bobby was back in the room. His brothers hadn't told him about Anthony, and he was sure he should be pissed about that.
"Yes, I offered him something to drink as well." Johnson stood. "Agent Harris is waiting. Are you ready to talk to him?" His attention shifted from Bobby to Craig. "You might as well get it over with, right?"
The fourteen year old found it amusing that Johnson was treating him as if he had a choice when it was obvious he didn't. He couldn't get out of talking the Harris by simply saying he didn't want to. If that was the case he wouldn't have had to come down in the first place and his brothers wouldn't have lied to him to get him there. He stood slowly and allowed Bobby to put an arm around him without cringing at the touch too much. He just wanted to get this over with and get the hell out of there.