Page 1 of Finding Justice

Chapter 1

Clive

Iflip through my files, trying to piece together everything involving the new drug, Venom, that’s hit my town. People have been dropping like flies from it for almost a year from homemakers to the homeless.

I may not be in the DEA nor the narcotics division here, but what I am is a homicide detective with a personal link to these cases. Many of the victims have been connected to the Silver Falls Youth Center. Despite the name, it’s essentially an orphanage. The older kids, struggling with their reality, have flocked to the drug. Unfortunately, they find the escape they were searching for, but it’s a permanent one.

It’s not hard for those in such a situation to be led down the wrong path, a truth I know from personal experience. When I was dropped off, I’d already been abused and unable to remembering much of anything about my life prior to that. It wasn’t long before I began stirring up trouble, which continued until I became a CI for a seasoned detective and was able to sort my shit out. With my inside information, we dismantled a local gang and drove them out of town.

After that, I was determined to become a cop, so I did. I’m now thirty-two and the thought of somebody trying to poison the people in my town pisses me off. I'll do anything to get rid of it, but it’s been more of a challenge than I expected. Whoever is behind it seems to always been at least a step ahead of us, regardless of any progress we make.

I hear the vibration of my cell hitting my desk and check the screen to see it’s Caleb calling. He and I have been best friends since we were kids. He went to the private school in the center of town because his family has lived here forever and are considered elite. I attended the public one near the edge where the delinquents were enrolled. Answering, I gruffly ask, “What?”

Caleb, a lawyer, only laughs, muttering, "Charming as always. I just finished a case. Want to grab a beer?" His family may be considered elite, but he’s never acted like it. We used to garner so many dirty looks whenever we’d play together from people bothered by our financial differences.

I rub my hands over my face in frustration of being unable to move forward and say, "Yeah, that sounds good."

"See you in ten," he states before hanging up. I remove my gun from my drawer and put it in the hip holster next to my badge. Grabbing my leather jacket from the back of my chair, I head out the door only to be stopped by a beat cop.

"Detective Woods,” he greets me. “I wanted you to know we got a call from the Youth Center." Fuck. What now?

Taking a guess, I ask, "Cole?" He’s fifteen and thinks he knows everything. The uniform nods, then tells me what went down.

"A younger kid called because he was fighting with Miss Dawn. By the time we arrived, he’d locked himself in his room." She’s a sweet older lady that recently took over the place and a vast improvement over the bitch that was there when I was. All she cared about was the money the government gave her, not helping us get adopted.

"Injuries?" He informs me there weren’t, that the argument was strictly verbal. “Thanks. I'll check it out in the morning."

Understandably, Cole’s been struggling. He’s the oldest and has been there since his parents abandoned him when he was ten. I can’t blame him for being angry, he has good reason to be. Yet keeping him out of trouble is a lot of work. I give him space when he’s behaving, which isn’t all that often.

When I arrive at the bar, Caleb is occupying our usual booth, either unaware of or ignoring the stares aimed his way. Apparently, on top of coming from money, he’s also what women deem good-looking. That’s all that matters to some of them. He grins when he sees me and waves. We’re total opposites. He’s a social butterfly that seeks people out whereas I’m a loner that prefers to avoid them.

"I ordered wings and fries," he lets me know.

"How do you not weigh a ton?" I grumble. He takes a long gulp of his beverage and casually shrugs, claiming it’s because he exercises.

"How's work?"

"The same,” I answer. “Worried about Cole," I reply as the waitress sets down my glass.

Caleb shakes his head, feeling for Cole. "That’s rough."

"What about you? Still helping the rich stay that way?" I tease, knowing he hates his job at his dad's firm but hasn’t found the courage to stand up to them yet. Instead, he tries to live for himself, but we’re both aware that sooner or later, the confrontation will happen.

"Let’s talk about something else," he suggests, then changes the subject. "You see someone bought Miss Douglas' property?"

I scowl, annoyed as hell. "I did."

"You’ve been saying for years you were going to buy it and fix it up, have an actual home instead of living in that piece of shit you currently reside in."

"You don't like my trailer all of a sudden?" It’s on a vacant lot that has power and a well water. I’ve stayed in it since I was a teenager. It’s never felt like a home, not that I’d know what that was anyway. My fear is I’ll take that step forward and just feel even lonelier than I already do. I’m incomplete, but I don’t know how to make myself whole. He reminds me he’s never liked it, making me laugh.

"It's lame. You need better."

We shoot the shit for a while as we polish off our drinks and eat. We talk every day, but there’s never a shortage of conversation between us. After calling it a night, the sadness I try to push away returns as my reality creeps back in.

The little boy left behind by his own family and never adopted is scared the adult won’t find his place in this world either. I don’t ask for much, just the same thing everyone else craves.

A home.

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