Page 50 of I Found You
“Jackson.” My voice was eerily calm.
“What’s going on over there? I was just coming in, but the cops are everywhere.”
I could hear someone in the background talking. “You don’t want to be anywhere near that. Let’s just go.”
“Hold up,” he said, talking to his buddy. “Wyatt?”
“Get here.” I ended the call and pocketed my phone. I had never been so furious in my life.
The police should be gone soon, and I had a boatload of cleanup ahead of me. A second pair of hands would certainly help, not to mention I wanted to see his face, gauge his reaction to all of this.
He walked from somewhere around the corner where his buddy must have dropped him off. I didn’t like it. I knew police could make some folks skittish, especially if they knew the police would take an interest in them. Jackson’s group of friends would fall into that category, but the police were all inside, and he wouldn’t drive by the place just to let his friend out.
“So, what’s going on?” Jackson said. His eyes darted around between the cruisers, the garage, and me. He shifted his backpack on his shoulder and shoved his hands in his pockets. He was trying to talk to me, but as much as I wanted him here so I could gauge his reaction, I wasn’t ready to deal with him yet.
“Just stay here,” I told him, walking away to resume mypacing.
I called Maeve again, silently praying she would pick up so I could at least hear her voice. I could feel myself spiraling, as much from everything going on around me as from last night. No answer, again. I was itching to send off a text, but what was I going to say? “Sorry for fucking you against the wall. I thought we both wanted it. I guess not, my bad.” Jesus shitballs, this was bad.
It took everything in me not to hurl my phone into the concrete building. With my fury worked back up again, I figured now was as good a time as any to question Jackson.
“What the fuck happened here?” I snapped. His deer-in-headlight eyes met my lethal glare. I wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he was involved, but I wasn’t letting him off the hook until I knew that he wasn’t. This wasn’t a court of law; there was no innocent until proven guilty. I was coming in with guns glazing.
“I don’t know. I was trying to ask you that.”
“I left here yesterday to a clean shop with everything in one piece, except for what we were working on. I came in to this.”
“Is there, like, a dead guy inside or something?” he whispered.
“No. Christ, Jackson. At least, I don’t think so, but it was hard to tell with everything being completely torn apart.” At that moment, police started to file out of the garage, some nodding their heads at me as they passed. When everyone was out except for Luke, I figured that meant I was allowed back in. “Go inside, see for yourself what I’m dealing with.” Gesturing for Jackson to go ahead of me. He opened the door, and I heard him suck in a breath. His steps stuttered, nearly making him trip.
I moved in front of him, making my way to Luke. Before I got too far though, I turned to look at Jackson as he took in all of the destruction. His head shot to the right where his truck was, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw it was untouched. The moment he registered what that might look like to me or even the police, his eyes rounded, and his head swiveled to find me.
“I had nothing to do with this,” he pleaded.
“You and I are going to have a talk just as soon as I finish up here with the police,” I told him. “Understand?”
“Fuck that. This has nothing to do with me.” He turned around and started toward the door.
“Walk out that door, Jackson, and see what happens.” I didn’t bother to wait and watch him. He would either stay or go, but I had a feeling I knew which one he would choose. At nineteen, he thought he was a tough guy, but he was all bluster.
I figured I would let him stew with that for a few minutes while Luke debriefed me on the next steps.
“We will take care of it, Wyatt. We will find whoever did this and make sure they’re brought to justice.” His voice held a warning I knew all too well:Don’t get Wes involved. Don’t take this into our own hands.Too late for that, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. I had too much on my plate already. I didn’t have it in me to deal with my brother’s hissy fit.
“Thanks for your help today,” I told Luke, walking him back out to his cruiser.
“I can come by after I get off shift, help you clean this shit up.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it taken care of.” Luke just nodded and slapped me on the shoulder. He was out lastnight, drinking with us guys, and I knew Jules would take issue with him staying out after work for a second night in a row. Although it did cross my mind that maybe that was what he was looking for. I made a mental note to check in with him at a later time. He glanced toward the building and raised his brows.
“You think he’s involved?”
I followed his gaze, looking back at the shop. “I don’t know. My gut is saying no, but I’m not ruling it out either.”
“I’ll let you know what I find out.”
Inside, Jackson was leaning up against the workbench with his arms crossed, like he had something to be pissed about. I could feel my anger bubbling up beneath the surface. This mess wasn’t necessarily Jackson’s fault, but I would be damned if I didn’t at least question him about it. This space had never been so much as spray-painted on in all of my years here. I brought him in, helped the kid out, tried to get him to see his potential, and within a few weeks, everything I’d worked for had been destroyed. On the one night I left him in charge.
