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Chapter 4: New Monster
If he'd been given the choice he would have done what the FBI agent, Harris, had wanted. He would have written down the same statement he had given on Saturday when he'd talked to Johnson. It would have been much easier than trying to talk. He hadn't had that choice though. Bobby had gone off on one of his tantrums and ruined everything. That meant that he was going to have to come back later, and go through it again, only the next time there was more of chance of questions that he didn't want to answer.
Damn Bobby. Damn his temper and his stupid logic. He was worried about something that Craig couldn't see. Harris wasn't the nicest person around, but if Bobby had let him write his statement down it would have been over and done with and he wouldn't have to worry about what was going to happen next. Now he was going to have come back again, and probably talk, and answer questions that he didn't want to answer. That was all his mind could digest out of the entire situation. He was going to have to deal with more crap now because Bobby couldn't just shut the hell up and let him write a stupid paragraph down on the paper.
Bobby dragged him down the hall, yelling at uniformed officers to get his brothers, demanding that any talks that were taking place be stopped right then and there. He seemed as if he were on some kind of a mission. It all felt odd to the boy, since Bobby had already been to the police station several times and until now had been happy to talk to cops. Sure it had seemed odd before, knowing Bobby was developing a some kind of comfort with the law enforcement community, but Craig didn't understand why he had to choose now, of all times to revert back to his mistrust of the uniform. His sudden need to get out of there and put distance between himself and the law didn't make sense.
The rest of the Mercers emerged from closed doors, or around corners as officers summoned them from their own private sessions with detectives, and Bobby seemed to calm down, a little. He still hadn't released his hold on Craig and the teen was ready to make an attempt to pull free. Being held onto as if he were some small child was humiliating. He had spent the past few days avoiding being touched and it seemed Bobby's hand or arm had been in contact with him for the most of their visit in the precinct house. The grip on his arm didn't hurt, but he felt his skin crawl under it. He wanted his safe distance.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jeremiah stopped next to Bobby, pulling his coat on with a casual motion. "I could hear you behind two closed doors, you know that?"
"We're getting out of here and no one is talking to the cops without Robert bein' here from now on." Bobby gave Craig a small tug to draw him a few inches closer to him as Angel and Jack came to a stop in front of them.
"But, none of this is our actual statement. I mean, we already gave them that." Jack spoke quietly; the expression on his face mirrored the confusion Craig felt inside. "We're just filling in some cracks here."
"Yeah, you'd know all about filling in cracks, wouldn't you, Cracker Jack?" Bobby's voice didn't have the cheerful sound it usually held when he started with the jokes; instead it felt hard on the air around them. "Look, I made a mistake; I let us fall for one of the oldest tricks in the book. We've come down here a few times, telling our side of the fucking story, thinking it would help speed shit up, and all they're trying to do is find a way to nail us for something. No more talking to any of them unless we've got our lawyer with us." His tone seemed to turn icy as he spoke. He turned and started walking towards the exit, pulling Craig along with him.
"Bullshit, Bobby, Green wouldn't let them pull that shit." Jeremiah stepped quickly to catch up to Bobby, taking up a stride on the man's left side. "Green and Johnson are both on our side, you know that."
"No, I don't know it. It thought it, and I was wrong." Bobby's jaw was tight. "I should have known better than to trust fucking cops. I've dealt with them long enough to know how the game is played and I still fucked up here." He kept his gaze fixed on the exit door ahead of them, it seemed his steps quickened and Craig had to pick up his own pace to keep up.
"Why don't you try explaining to us exactly what the hell is going on?" Angel took up the space on Craig's right side, and Jack, with his long legs, managed to slide past Jeremiah and step with them, just a few feet ahead.
Craig couldn't understand what had taken place to make Bobby so upset. He tried to replay the brief encounter with Harris in his head to find something that would explain why his brother was reacting so negatively at the moment. Yeah, Harris had been an ass, but Craig still fell back on the fact that he could have written his statement down, much easier than he could have answered questions and Bobby had ruined that chance for him. There was nothing in that meeting that would have propelled Bobby Mercer to drag his entire family out of the police station.
The handful of silver Bobby had given him a short time before jingled in his jeans pocket, reminding him that he'd been sent out of the room while his brother talked to Johnson, and he made the connection. Bobby had been pissed before, but it wasn't until after he'd talked to Johnson that he'd gone beyond pissed and turned defensive. That's what it was, he was on the defense, and it had to be something Johnson said; it had to do with Johnson, not with Harris. It didn't have to do with the statement Harris had said he needed written out, it was the talks his brothers had been having with the police.
"We'll talk when we get to the house." Bobby grunted the words as they broke through the door to the outside. The man's muscles seemed to relax almost instantly once they hit the crisp of the air beyond the exit. His hold on Craig's arm released but he dropped his arm across his shoulders.
Craig started to shrug off the arm, his need for space becoming more than he could take. As soon as he moved out from under the arm it returned, dropped back on his shoulders, and circled his neck. He started to pull away from the hold on him, but the arm locked and he was pulled closer towards his brother. He looked up to find Bobby scowling at him. He was sure the man was about to say something. His eyes seemed to hold a question, and Craig dreaded it. He was relieved when the next few seconds passed in silence. He looked away from Bobby and resisted the urge to make another attempt at pulling free from him.
"So, you're convinced now that Johnson and Green are out to screw us?" Angel spoke once they reached the car.
"No. I didn't say that. I said I screwed up by trusting them." Bobby sounded a little less tense. "I also said we'd talk at home."
"Why don't you explain how you screwed up?" Jeremiah pushed as they reached the car. "Why the hell should we have to wait 'til we get back to the house?"
Bobby watched Jeremiah walk around the car, and finally sighed. "I didn't think about the fact that the FBI is involved. It never occurred to me that they would doubt us, what we've been telling them, because Green and Johnson both know what the hell happened. I figured Kirkpatrick and Harris would come to the same conclusions and we'd be able to put this shit behind us." Bobby muttered. He opened the back door of the Volvo and let Craig climb in. "I was wrong."
Bobby's words seemed to take on a different meaning now. Craig replayed the whole scene with Harris through his mind. The man had wanted the written statement, not a problem, but it was more than the way he'd spoken, it was the words that had passed between him and Bobby. Craig hadn't been paying too much attention to most of them at the time; he'd been more concerned with writing on paper what the man wanted and getting the hell out of there before he started asking a bunch of hard questions that he was sure he couldn't answer. Bobby was worried that Harris didn't believe them. He was worried that Harris was digging for something more and whatever Johnson had said to him while Craig was in the hallway obviously had confirmed his worries.
Craig let his mind wonder while his brothers talked during the drive back to the house. He didn't listen too much to the conversation, only bits and pieces. His brain was stuck on Harris' words about having the written statement and looking for anything that was different in it from his original statement. He remembered the tone in the man's voice, and the look in his eyes. Bobby was right, he was digging for something. But even if he was, if they were all telling the truth, then there wasn't anything for him to find, right? Why was Bobby so pissed?
Apparently the question in his mind wasn't a bad question, because once Bobby had relayed the events to the rest of the Mercers in the car, Jeremiah asked the same question. "We ain't lyin' to them Bobby, so what if Harris is trying to dig for something? Let him dig. We just need to keep telling the truth and let him dig. He ain't gonna find nothin', because there is nothin' to find." He glanced in the mirror at Bobby. "I mean, really, what could he possibly find?"
"Jack shot Macks." Bobby spoke a little louder than he needed to. "It was self defense, on all our parts, but we ain't got no one else to back up our story. It's just us against them, don't you see that Jerr'? Harris is digging for a reason to pin this shit on us. I'm tellin' ya, we are screwed here."
Craig was sandwiched between Bobby and Angel again, and he could see Jack in the front seat, his body seemed to wilt at the sound of Bobby's words.
"Wait a minute, you think they are gonna come after us for this? Shit, Macks started this, he started it. He faked his own death and came after us. The cops all know that. They have the proof, they have his fake I.D. They got the contact lenses and the false teeth. Hell, I have it by a good source that the man did some killing back in Illinois. How the hell can they come back on us with this shit?" Angel spoke up. "It's bullshit Bobby, they can't pin shit on us."
Bobby turned and looked at Angel. "Where the hell do you get your information?" He asked.
"That sweet thing behind the desk in Evidence," Angel grinned and glanced down at Craig. "She is sweet, too." He winked and looked back at Bobby.
"Here we go again. If you do marry Sofi, you realize your days of flirty with all those sweet things are over." Jeremiah spoke from the front.
Angel started defending his actions, and the conversation soon turned into how his talents for getting information out of beautiful women had saved them all in past.
Craig's eyes fell on Jack in the passenger front seat. His head was turned away, obviously looking out the window. He was quiet and the boy wondered if he was listening to anything that was being said. He had shot Adam Macks. After all the years he'd spent avoiding guns he had picked one up, aimed it and fired. He had saved Bobby's life in that moment. He had faced one of his worst fears and done the one thing that no one else had been able to until that moment; he'd gotten rid of the monster for good.
Craig let his own mind fall into his memories about that day. He couldn't remember anything from the right perspective no matter how hard he tried. He felt detached from everything that had happened, as if he hadn't been there, living it, but standing back, observing as everything played out. He couldn't feel the blows that his father had landed on him, or the sensation that had filled him when the man's hands wrapped around his throat. He could picture it all in his head, but couldn't feel anything from that day. The looks on his brother's faces, the sound of the gun shot. The uniforms that had swarmed the cemetery and the buzz of activity that went forever. It was all there, in his head, like a movie he'd watched.
His mind was brought back to the here and now as the car slowed down and made a turn. They were home. Jeremiah parked the car in front of the house. Craig got out after Bobby and headed for the front door. "Hey, genius, you want the key?" Bobby called out.
Craig turned to look at Bobby, who was standing next to the car, with Jeremiah and Angel. Jack was getting out of the car and his pack of cigarettes in his hand, one already hanging from his lips. Bobby tossed him his key ring. "Put them on the counter." He ordered and turned back to look at Jack, who was lighting his cigarette.
Craig hesitated for a moment before turning and walking to the house. They were going to talk, and didn't want him to hear. He was getting used to that. If they'd been in the house he could have strained his ears and tried to listen, but they were going to stay outside and leave him out of it completely. He was tired of the secrets his brothers kept hiding from him. He couldn't help but wonder what else they had kept from him. He had found out about Jack's secret by accident, by overhearing a conversation not meant for him. That was his first clue that his brothers barely included him in what was going on in their family. He was still an outsider, still not a real Mercer, no matter what anyone said. Finding out about Anthony proved that.
The house felt still and quiet when he walked through the door. After hanging his coat up he walked through the foyer to the kitchen and dropped Bobby's keys on the counter. He stepped across the room to the back door and looked out the window of the back door. The ice storm that had hit Saturday had layered everything in ice.
The sky that day had been dreary and dark, a stark contrast to the sky today. The blue above was brilliant; the few clouds looked like puffs of cotton candy stretched out overhead. The sun was shining, reflecting off what little bit of ice remained in the trees and overhangs of nearby roofs. Puddles of melted snow pooled everywhere reflecting the bright surroundings like hundreds of mirrors covering the street and spotting the ground; chunks of yellow and brown popped up in spaces in the yards as the snow cleared away. The air was still crisp and cold, but the day looked bright and new and he thought he could feel a promise of some kind drifting past with the clouds. It seemed like a whole different world from the one he'd lived in on Saturday. So much had changed.
His mind fell on the large white board at the police station, and the notes scrawled out in red marker under Anthony's name. His brothers had kept another secret from him. His friend was dead. He had died the same night Adam Macks had sent men with guns to Maria's apartment. It was another secret, another lie, another fact that his brothers would never have shared if he hadn't found out about it himself. If he had the capability of feeling anything at that moment he was sure he would have been pissed. He wanted to feel pissed. He had been hiding in the safety of the numbness that had taken over him, but he did wish he could feel something about Anthony, or the secret that his death had been kept from him.
He didn't want to live the rest of his life wondering about what lies his brothers were telling him, or what secrets they were keeping from him. It was his life too. What was going on involved him just as much as his brothers, and he deserved to know what was going on. He had that right, he'd earned it. He'd lived through the past month and everything that had happened, and he deserved to be included in the discussion taking place out in front of the house.
He pulled the door open and stepped out. The back steps had been littered with rock salt days earlier, leaving them coated in chunks of partially melted ice, but the sun had melted that ice away, leaving them wet, with salt residue floating around the edges.
His mind watched as his body moved mechanically. He followed his legs through the thinning snow in the grass, around the corner of the house to his left. The air felt cooler in the shade of the neighbor's house; the snow and ice was still thick from the lack of sun to melt it. His feet moved carefully over the layer of ice, slipping every so often, and his arms started to shiver under his sweatshirt. He stayed against the wall as he moved towards the street, using it for support as much as a way to cover is approach.
His brothers were still out front, gathered around Jeremiah's car. He could hear their voices as he reached the corner where the front porch butted up to the house. He felt his stomach tighten up on him and knew that he should follow the instincts that were screaming at his nerves, telling him to turn around and go back in the house. Instead he moved on. He could feel his pulse quicken and his face grew warm as his nerves prickled about inside of him with short bursts of electrical charged energy.
It wouldn't go over very well with any of his brothers if he was caught sneaking around the side of the house to overhear their private conversation. He knew Bobby would throw a fit, and he'd be asked to explain his actions. He would have to endure a lot of yelling, and knowing Bobby he'd be grounded, not that he was free to do what he wanted at the moment anyway. He didn't care. He didn't care if he got caught, but being there at the moment seemed to spark something inside of him and he liked it. He inched forward to the outer corner of the front porch and ducked down behind the left-over pile of bricks that had never been cleared out of the yard.
"Well, if Johnson said to call Green, they why don't we call Green?" Jeremiah's voice drifted on the wind, and Craig was surprised at how easily he could hear the words.
"I don't think I trust Green right now. Do you?" Bobby shot back at Jeremiah.
"Yes, Bobby, I do. Johnson was trying to warn us, don't you see that? Green can fill us in on what's going on." Jeremiah's voice held reason, as usual.
Bobby on the other hand held his own version of logic. "They fuckin' screwed us and put us out there for the Feds to eat us alive, Jerr', don't you see that? Don't you see the game they're playin'? I do. I've seen it before. They played us and set us up so the Feds could stake a claim on us. We ain't gonna get out of this by co-operating. Shit, that's how they lured us in." His voice was louder. "Green set us up. He fucked us over to make himself look good. He had Johnson to help him."
"Green wouldn't do that." Jack cried out. "Hell, Bobby, I shot a man, I would be in jail right now if that's what they were doing."
"They are trying to get you there Jack. That's what I'm trying to tell you. They are trying to get us all behind bars but they will start with you. Harris is out to nail us. They got our records staring them in the face and they are determined to make us pay for shit that don't have anything to do with now." Bobby sounded frustrated and almost defeated, at least to the teenager.
Craig dared a peek around the bricks that were hiding him. He could see Bobby pacing back and forth on the sidewalk. Jeremiah was standing in the yard with his back to the house. Both Angel and Jack were leaning against the front end of the car, their eyes following the eldest Mercer as he moved up and down the walk with quick steps.
Smoke emptied from Jack's mouth and he pulled his hand up to grab another lungful of nicotine from the cigarette nestled between his fingers. He looked scared and no matter how many cigarettes he smoked the fear wasn't going to leave him, Craig knew that. He could hear the worry in Bobby's voice, and the disbelief in Jeremiah's. He thought he should be feeling something too, but he didn't. He listened as Angel spoke.
"We need to talk to Green. We need to hear what he has to say Bobby." Angel sounded calm, and almost detached, the way Craig felt. "Let's at least hear his side of it. We owe him that much, don't you think?"
"We don't owe him shit." Bobby nearly yelled the words. He stopped pacing at a point where he could see all three of his brothers. "If he set us up we don't owe him a fucking thing. I fell into that trap once; I won't fall into it again. He might have come through for us a few times, but we gave him control and we know better. We all know better. Shit, I know better."
"Fine, I'll call Green." Jeremiah's arms swung up from both sides. "You call Robert Bradford and talk to him. Tell him what the hell is goin' on."
"You ain't callin' Green." Bobby swung around to look at Jeremiah. His eyes flicked in Craig's direction. Craig felt his breath catch in his chest as he pulled back quickly and moved back up the side of the house at as close to a run as he could manage on the ice. He was sure Bobby had seen him. He rounded the corner into the back yard, picked up his speed as he moved across the grass, and moved up the back steps without slowing down. He was acting on instinct. He didn't feel afraid, or worried about getting caught, he just had to be sure his brothers didn't know he was sneaking around and listening into conversations they were trying to keep from him or they would keep their guard up and he'd never have a chance to hear anything.
He pushed the back door closed and listened to the house, waiting for the sounds of his brothers coming through the front door, Bobby yelling at him for being outside, peaking around corners to hear words not meant for him. The same silence met him as before. He stood there for a moment, leaning back against the door.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, beating hard and fast, as if it was trying to break free. He reached up with his hand and let it rest over his heart so that he could feel the thumping. It wasn't fear that he felt. His brain tingled as he tried to figure out what it was. It was the first thing he'd actually felt since Saturday. The first real sense that he was alive and it felt better than he thought it should.
A smile played across his face as realization hit him. It was a rush. The chance that he'd taken, sneaking around the house to hear a conversation that his brothers would never hold in front of him, had brought on an adrenaline rush that seemed to spark something inside of him. He liked it. He liked feeling something, finally. He had felt comfortable in his cocoon of nothing, but this was good. It made him feel alive.
Craig pulled in a deep breath and let the sensation soak in as deeply as it could before it started to subside. The sound of the front door never came. He stepped to the sink and snatched the same glass off of the counter that he'd used earlier. He filled it with water and moved slowly through the dining room to stand in the living room. He looked out the window and watched his brothers out front, still talking. Apparently Bobby hadn't seen him. He wished he had stayed outside for a little longer, to hear what else was being said, but he knew the chance of being caught was too great if he went back now.
He couldn't believe that Green had set them up. It just didn't seem possible, not after everything he'd done to help them. The problem was Harris and the FBI. His brothers had been out to stop his father that day, but they hadn't been given a choice. Adam was coming after them, and he never would have stopped. How could the FBI turn any of that around on his brothers? It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right.
Craig stepped around the coffee table and sat down on the couch. He took one last drink from his water before setting the glass on the coffee table. His heart was no longer beating hard and rapid, it had calmed down and the feelings that had filled him for that short moment were gone. The rush was over, giving way to something else, something that didn't feel so good.
The teen shifted his gaze down to his hands and stared at the partially healed bruises and tiny nicks he'd acquired in his struggle with his father in front of Evelyn Mercer's grave. He let his mind drift back to that day in the cemetery, and the surprise that had overwhelmed him when he'd realized Jack had shot his father. He had been numb since that moment. No feelings, no emotions, absolutely nothing until the rush of sneaking out of the house, and that seemed to have given way to something else now.
The 'what if' game started to play out in his mind for the first time in days; what if Harris tried to put his brothers in jail? What if he was taken away from them? What if he lost his home and his family? What if Adam had really won in the end? The fear of being separated from the only family he'd ever known was supposed to have died with the monster. But it seemed a new monster was moving in to terrorize him now, the FBI.