Chapter 2

Clyde Martin looked at Duke with weary eyes when the police sergeant entered the holding cell and took a seat on the small "lawyers bench" across the cell.

"I'm not sure why you wanted this meeting so bad." He focused on the floor. "I told you my mind is made up. I assume I'll be sentenced to life without parole, and I'm fine with that."

"So just indulge an old friend for a few minutes," Duke said. "I only want to say my piece and then I'll leave you to whatever comes next."

Clyde nodded.

"I can't imagine what you've been through since that day," Duke started.

There was no need to define which day he was talking about. It was a span of 24 hours so devastating it was destined to always be known as 'the day'. Nothing in Clyde's life had been the same since.

"I know that anyone who hasn't been through something that horrific couldn't possibly imagine the depth of your pain. So I won't presume to tell you what you should do. Or what I think I would do in your position. I won't insult our friendship that way."

"I appreciate that," Clyde said softly.

Duke cleared his throat. "First, I want to let you know that I've talked to Tom Boyle a couple of times since the night you were arrested."

Clyde sat completely still. "The night I killed his son you mean."

"Yes."

Though Clyde had refused to talk since the night of his arrest, Duke had had several long conversations with Tom Boyle. He was utterly appalled by what his son had done to Carissa and the children and yet, he was still Scotty's father and still loved him.

He prayed every day of the 13 year prison sentence that his son would accept responsibility for what he did and find a way to somehow be a force for positive change. Nothing would ever bring Carissa and the children back. But maybe he could help keep others from repeating the same mistakes.

Circumstances didn't allow Clyde and Tom to support each other through their grief, but in reality they were two men with very similar backgrounds, both dealing with unimaginable devastation. Both loved their grandchildren. And both loved their children.

Duke had long been friends with both men and thought it was a cruel irony that they suffered such similar pain but were unable to reach out to each other.

"He wanted you to know that he and Toni felt the loss of the grandchildren as deeply as you and Sarah," Duke said.

Tom Boyle and his wife hadn't seen or talked to Clyde Martin since the day Carissa and the children were laid to rest. As they stood at the graveside, still numb with grief, Clyde had refused to make eye contact with them. Stubbornly refused to either offer or accept comfort from two other grieving grandparents.

In the following weeks, they had wanted to reach out but hadn't known what to say. They couldn't wrap their minds around what their son had done. They didn't know how to convey their sincere apology for whatever had gone wrong in Scotty's mind. How do you find the words to apologize for raising someone who would do something so monstrous?

Then later, after they heard about Clyde's threats to kill Scotty himself if he ever got out of prison, they didn't have anything to say to him. They understood his pain and anger but more violence was never the answer.

"I'm sure they did," Clyde conceded.

"He and Toni never made any excuses for Scotty. They were as baffled as everyone else about why this happened," Duke said. "He said you were so angry, understandably so, that he didn't have any idea how to even approach you."

Clyde thought for a minute then finally looked up and met Duke's eyes. "I told anyone who would listen I planned on killing his son if he ever got out of prison. I can understand why he had nothing to say to me."

"He loved his son," Duke said. "Despite everything. Scotty was still his son. He hoped he might get a chance to make a new start when he was released."

"And I took that away," Clyde said.

He wouldn't apologize, even to Scotty Boyle's grieving parents. He couldn't bring himself to say words he didn't mean. He wasn't sorry his former son-in-law was dead. And he wasn't sorry he was the one to pull the trigger.

"Is he going to make a victim impact statement?"

"No," Duke said. "He said that he and Toni have decided to leave it to the courts. They're at peace with whatever the judge's decision is."

"We have that in common," Clyde said with a wistful smile.

"I understand the PA's office was willing to offer you medium security detention." Duke leaned forward. "Maybe even the opportunity to do a little public speaking. Talk to families who have lost loved ones. Be that person who understands what they've been through."

"I think we can all agree we wouldn't want any of them to do what I did." Clyde's eyes dropped to the floor again. "I don't think I'm the person to talk to them."

"How beneficial would it have been for you to have someone to talk to in the days, weeks, months, even years after that night?" Duke asked. "Someone who truly knew your pain."

"I had Sarah," Clyde said. "She was all I needed."

"And you were all she needed too," Duke said. "I'm sure of that. But maybe if the two of you had had a chance to talk to someone who had made it through the kind of grief you were suffering and come out the other side…"

"You think I might not have killed Scotty Boyle?"

"I can't say." Duke clasped his hands together in front of him. "It might have helped."

"I guess we'll never know." Clyde shifted slightly to get his leg shackles into a more comfortable position. "So you can tell McGarrett and Williams and whoever else is out there trying to give me help I didn't ask for, that they can go home. I have made my peace with what I did and with my God and I'll take what I have coming to me."

"Can I be honest with you?" Duke asked.

Clyde nodded. "Of course."

"I know that, despite all the pain and heartache you've gone through, you're a man of faith. I am too." Duke took a few seconds to gather his thoughts. "So you believe you'll see Sarah and Carissa and the kids again after you pass."

Clyde looked his old friend in the eyes.

He'd spent many a night crying and asking God why Carissa and the children had to die. He was angry at the world. He didn't go to church for two years afterwards. He just couldn't make himself walk through those doors.

But Sarah didn't have the same crisis of faith. She got up and went to church every Sunday. Even though her heart was broken. Even though she had no happiness left in her life. She clung to her faith. She found comfort in the familiar rituals of church. The ones she'd repeated over and over for her entire life.

Eventually her husband began accompanying her again.

"I do," Clyde said.

"Do you remember the riots that broke out after those two innocent little girls got killed in the crossfire of that gang war?" Duke asked.

Clyde was momentarily confused by the change in direction the conversation was taking, but finally replied, "Who could forget?"

"We worked what … 48 hours straight?" Duke said.

Clyde nodded at the memory. "Then grabbed a few hours of sleep at the station and worked 48 more."

"I remember when we finally had things under control, Sarah came to the station to pick you up," Duke said. " It was 3:00 AM and she said she was afraid you'd be too tired to drive home."

"She was right."

Clyde smiled at the memory.

It was the first time he'd smiled in quite a while.

"I can't believe you remember that."

"I'll never forget it," Duke said. "I remember you were apologizing for making her get out of bed in the middle of the night to come get you and she said it was no problem. That all she ever wanted was for you to do what you had to do, help whoever needed help, and come home to her safely when you were done. She'd always be waiting when you got there."

A tear escaped Clyde's eye and rolled down his cheek.

"There are still people here who need your help," Duke said. "Sarah would want you to help them. So would Carissa. They'll both still be there to meet you when it's finally your time to go home."

Clyde's tears began to flow more freely. "The last thing Sarah ever told me was that she'd be waiting for me on the other side. And that I should take my time. She wasn't in a hurry."

"I believe I'm gonna see her again someday too," Duke said. "And I'm afraid she wouldn't forgive me if I let you give up without even trying."

Clyde took several deep, shuddering breaths. "I can't make any promises. I killed a man and I deserve to be punished. But I'll give my lawyer permission to talk to the PA."

"That's all I ask," Duke said. "I'll tell him to come back and talk to you."

When he was almost to the door Clyde said, "Hey, Duke. Thanks. I think I'd like it if you visited me again and we can … you know… maybe talk some more about Sarah and the old times."

Duke smiled. "Try and keep me away."

THE END


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