Page 53 of Facing the Enemy
“Yours for starters. Ethan wanted me to be an engineer, except I’m not interested. Especially now since that’s what he is. I want a major in English. I’m also taking calculus, SpanishV, and another semester of history.”
A full load. “After your basics, what college or university interests you?”
“Not sure.” He paused, and I questioned if it was to draw sympathy from me. “Depends on where I’m living. At the rate I’m going, I’ll be in witness protection.”
I refused to probe deeper into his remark. If the case led to an operation nationwide or internationally, Witness Security Program might be a viable option. All that meant if he told the truth. “So English is your career choice?”
“Something there. I like to write, but I need to make money too. Maybe teaching high school. Your classes are fun, challenged me. I like learning how people communicate and the history of language.” He shifted in his seat. “I sound like a nerd.”
“Not at all. Have you written on your own?”
“The typical poetry and dabbled in fantasy. I’m working on a novel. I told you I liked thrillers and mysteries, and I do. But fantasy and sci-fi are my favorites.”
“Have your reading habits changed since the issues with your stepdad?”
He huffed. “Yes. Can’t concentrate. Keep trying to figure out a reason for what I saw.”
“I understand you want an explanation that exonerates him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You were successful in publishing some of your work in my class and earning a few dollars. That’s a good beginning for your résumé.”
“If I live long enough. Sorry. My mind keeps going to dark places.”
“Trained people are working to bring back the light.” I sighed. “Carson, you’re an adult, and what you’re experiencing isn’t for the weak or cowards.” I shot him a sideways glance. “You’ve alreadyproven neither one fits you.” I cast aside my thoughts to keep conversation low-key until later in the trip. I suspected Carson might try something stupid to protect his mom and brother—or escape. “I’d like to ask you a question, but first I want to confirm you won’t lie to me.”
“I’ve been lying to you since the first day of classes. What makes you think anything has changed? Except what I witnessed that night?”
“Because I want to believe you told Gage and me the truth. Because I believe you’re a man of integrity. Because you’re more concerned about your family than yourself.”
“Glad you think so, Professor. Not sure you have the right guy. But go ahead.”
“Where were you going when we caught up to you?”
“To think about the best way to protect Mom and Caleb from Dad and that strange guy. And to figure out if I told you what really happened, would you believe my story. But I kept driving. I don’t make sense even to myself.”
“Why did you retrace your steps? Big Bend is closer to Houston than Santa Fe.”
He stared out the passenger-side window. “I love my mom and Caleb. Running didn’t keep them safe. But fear took over. Still am.”
So was I. “Thanks for telling me. Are you up to one more question?”
“Depends.” He wrung his hands, a trait I’d seen before. “A lot of junk is going through my head.”
“I understand.”
“I think you believe me, but I’m not sure about Agent Patterson.”
“I’m sure you’ve been told that trust has to be earned,” I said.
“Oh ... yes. When do I get the gun back?”
“Never. I have it for multiple reasons.”
He raised his hand. “Okay. I have a question for you.” When I nodded, he continued. “What led you to join the FBI?”
Gage knew the story. “When I was fifteen, I became the neighborhood babysitter. Kids were special to me, and sometimes I refused to take money for watching them. The problem came when I repeatedly saw bruises on a little girl. Her parents said she had the clumsysyndrome, and she would outgrow it. Then one day I was staring out my second-story bedroom window and witnessed the mother in their backyard beating the little girl. She left the child lying in the yard. I immediately told my parents, and Dad called the police. The little girl died of internal injuries, and the mother went to prison. The father said he had no idea his wife abused their little girl. I didn’t believe him. What about his daughter’s bruises? No one was that stupid. From then on, I wanted to help innocent children.”
