Page 140 of Always Red (Chasing Red 2)

“My mom sent me to Paris. She doesn’t want anyone finding out that her only daughter has mental issues. All this time, whenever I go to Paris, I’ve been…staying at a clinic there. I tried to call you, but you never answered.” She reached for her glass of water and sipped. Her hands shook. “My therapist said that I need to solve my issues by talking to the people I’ve wronged, to ask for their forgiveness. But he said I’m in denial. I know that. My head is just too clouded, Cal. I can’t…function when Dad…when Dad is dying. I don’t have anyone else. You know that. I only have you and Benjamin.”

The server returned with the pocket-sized credit-card machine. “I can come back later if you guys need more time.”

“No,” I replied. “I’ll pay now please.”

Placing my phone on the table, I pulled out my card and handed it to her. She ran my card and gave me the machine to put in my code, but it only beeped. She ran it again, and it beeped again.

“I’m sorry. We were having issues with the machine this morning. Is it all right if I meet you at the front? I’ll take your payment there.”

I nodded and followed her. When I finished paying, I was surprised to see Beatrice-Rose behind me.

“I understand you don’t want to be with me right now, Cal. She’s your rabbit,” she murmured quietly. A chill raced up my spine at the look in her eyes. “She’s your rabbit, just like Atlas was mine.”

“What are you talking about?”

She smiled. “Nothing. Just memories. I’ll see you soon, Cal.”

It wasn’t until I was on my way to the station in Devil’s Lake that I realized something about Beatrice-Rose’s smile, something about her voice, disturbed me. But once I saw Clooney at the station, the thought left my mind.

He was waiting for me outside, having a smoke with an older officer with a very distinguishable bushy beard and kind, brown eyes.

“We’re holding Justin Dumont in a cell at the back,” Constable Penner informed me after he introduced himself. “Kid’s looking for trouble. Small town like this, you’re bound to know everybody’s business. Makes my job easier, if you ask me.” He took a long drag of his cigarette before putting it out and throwing it in the trash. “Follow me.”

Clooney and I followed Constable Penner inside the small building. “Now I heard this fellow’s been staying at his uncle’s for a while. I just got back from a vacation

in the Philippines with my wife when I got a phone call from Jim. He’s the owner of the White Beaver Farm you passed on your way here,” the constable explained.

I nodded.

“Anyway, Jim calls me screaming bloody murder. He was going to blow this kid’s brains out if I didn’t arrest him right that minute. He would have gone and done it if I didn’t get there on time. Wake up, son.”

Justin was sitting on the floor, his back against the wall and his chin on his chest as he slept like the dead. His blond hair was greasy, his clothes filthy. The sight of him made me more disgusted than angry.

“Son, wake up!”

Justin woke with a start, his limbs twitching as he struggled to open his eyes. “What do you want?” he spat out. When his eyes met mine, they cleared from sleep and filled with hate. “The fuck you doing here, asshole?”

“You have guts, calling me an asshole after you planted those drugs in my car.”

Justin got unsteadily to his feet, his dirty hands grabbing the bars of his cell as he pushed his face close to me. “Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“I want you to clean up your language now, boy,” Constable Penner interrupted. “No one curses in my station.”

“I’ll say whatever the fuck I want, old man. This bumfucking town is good for nothing. Was just passing through.”

“You don’t want to insult my town. You’re being charged with trespassing, destruction of property, breaking and entering, vandalism, and disturbing the peace. What’s wrong with you? Pissing your life away for nothing. Do you know how much time you’ll be doing for this, son?”

“I’m not your fucking son.”

“And thank the Lord Jesus for that.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Listen here, punk,” Clooney barged in. “We have footage of you sneaking inside Mr. Lockhart’s building, down to the basement parking. Sound familiar?”

“I don’t know dick about nothing.”

“Tell me, where’d you get the drugs?”

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