Page 8 of Mace

“You’ll just have to take my word for it,” Brooke mumbled. “I’d be happy to meet with you if you still want to. Mace said that you requested a meeting with me.” Brooke worried that she was wasting her time and that was the last thing she wanted to tell Mace. She hoped to call him back this morning with good news. Heck, she was hoping to meet up with him, just to see him again, not that she’d tell her father that. She didn’t plan to tell her father about any of this. As far as he was concerned, she was off the case and Brooke planned on leaving it that way until she could prove Mace’s innocence because she believed him when he said he didn’t murder Reece Childs.

“I can meet you,” the guy said. “I just want the correct person to pay for killing my son. I know that Mace didn’t do it.”

“Do you know why your son was in the Road Reaper’s parking lot?” she asked.

“Not really,” the guy said. The way that he stammered through that simple statement had her wondering why he seemed so nervous. Her question was a simple one.

“Mr.—um, I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

“That’s because I didn’t give it,” the guy responded. “I’d like to remain anonymous,” he said.

“I’m assuming that you have the same last name as your son, so may I call you Mr. Childs?” she asked.

“Unfortunately, Reece and I don’t have the same last name. His mother made sure that I wasn’t a part of his life or on his birth certificate. She gave Reece her last name since we were never married.”

“I see,” Brooke said. “Then, I’ll call you Mr. Smith. I mean, it’s a common enough name.” Brooke wasn’t sure what was up with all the secrecy, but she figured that the guy had his reasons. She didn’t want to push him for answers and scare him off. If he had any information that could help with Mace’s case, she wanted to know about it.

“Fine, call me whatever you’d like. I just need your promise that I can be anonymous in all this,” the guy insisted.

“You have my word,” Brooke promised. “Can you meet me today?” she asked.

“I can,” the guy said, “where and when?”

“How about at the diner on Fifth Street, downtown?” she asked.

“Not your office?” he asked.

“Um, no,” she said, “it’s being remodeled, and I don’t like bringing clients into a work zone.” Brooke had always been quick on her feet when it came to little white lies. It’s what made her a damn good lawyer and also kept the peace with her demanding father.

“Okay, the diner on Fifth Street works for me,” the guy said. “How about noon? I’ll let you buy me lunch,” he said.

“Deal,” Brook agreed. “I’ll see you at noon,” Brooke said, ending the call. She had left the part out about Mace wanting to tag along. She deliberately asked him to meet in a public place so that Mace wouldn’t be able to attend. She needed to talk to this guy on her own to figure out if he was on the up and up. Then, she’d visit Mace to give him either the good or bad news.

Brooke sat in the corner booth at the diner, hoping that “Mr. Smith” didn’t change his mind and would not show up. It was ten past noon, and she was really beginning to worry.

“Brooke,” an older man asked. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt that showed off not only his tattoos but his muscles too. For an old guy, he was really in shape.

“Mr. Smith,” Brook said. He kind of winced at the name that she gave him, and she couldn’t help her laugh. Mace was right, there was something about this guy that was familiar to even her, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, nodding to the seat across from her.

“Of course,” she said. “I appreciate you making time to meet with me,” Brooke said.

“I’m surprised that Mace didn’t tag along with you,” the guy said.

“He wanted to, but I insisted that he stay hidden away for now. I’m hoping that I can clear his name before the cops find him,” she said.

“He’s lucky to have someone like you working to clear his name,” the guy insisted. She nodded, not quite sure how to take his praise.

“Mace told me that you have evidence to prove that he wasn’t your son’s killer,” Brooke said. She promised Mace that she’d be in touch with him after her meeting, and she knew that he wasn’t a patient man.

The guy stood from the booth and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, handing it across the table to her. “I got this letter from Reece’s apartment after he was killed. This note was left on his doorstep after he broke things off with his girlfriend. Honestly, I forgot that he had shown it to me a few weeks ago until he turned up dead. I think that his ex-killed him.”

“I thought that you said you really didn’t have a relationship with your son,” Brooke said.

“I didn’t when he was a child, but we reconnected after his mother passed away ten years ago. It wasn’t easy at first, but after a few years, Reece could see that I had truly changed, and we started hanging out together. We got to be close, and now that he’s gone, I regret all of the time that I missed with him when he was little. I should have been there, but I plan on being here for him now. I want to prove that the woman who wrote that note is his killer.”

She looked the note over and noticed that it wasn’t signed. “It doesn’t say who wrote this note,” she said, pointing to the bottom of the paper.

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