Page 11 of Truly Forever

“Okay, fine. We’ll do this your way. Tell me what the other option is, Hollie? Your average, ordinary son is the victim of a conspiracy? A setup?”

When he says it like that…

“Where was he the night it happened?”

“It was afternoon. I told you. He’d been at his girlfriend’s house—but she’s a very sweet girl.”

His palms turn up.

I hurry on. “She has a couple brothers.”

“What are they like? Are they users?”

“I don’t know.” I sigh. I don’t want to sling mud, not when I all I have is gossip. “I guess they’re okay guys.”

His finger taps. “None of this makes your case.”

“I know what it looks like, but if you knew Jacob—”

“Introduce us.”

I snap up. “What?”

“If you want my help…” Again, he spreads his palms like an innocent lamb.

Hah.“I’m not sure I want to subject my son to that.”

He actually looks taken aback. Well, sorry. He deserved it.

John points. “I’ll warn you though, it’s doubtful there’s anything I can do.” His posture eases. “But it’s your choice.”

A young guy, probably fresh out of college, dressed to the nines in a suit and tie, with a leather portfolio in his hand, unlocks the old sedan backed into the slot next to us. Could he be going to a job interview? Maybe he’s a new grad, about to launch a career. I blink away tears. Oh, how I want that for Jacob. Not jail time and a felony record that will keep him out of college and follow him everywhere.

John is being generous, I know, but still, I slap my arms in a cross over my chest. “Fine. You can meet him.”

“When?”

“Tonight. At my house.” I’m not going to this guy’s lair. “But you better behave. Don’t be mean to my son.”

His eyes become dark slits. “Mean? Buckle up, Mom. This is big boy stuff your precious kiddo is dealing with.”

Before I can holler a clear and decisive revocation of my invitation, John I-don’t-know-his-last-name has his feet on the pavement.

“I’ll be there at 7:00.”

My poor, sad car trembles in his wake.

John

“You’re here.”

I glance from my booting laptop. Tripp Walker, a former subordinate, fills my office doorway. “I’m here.”

“What’s up?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s after noon. You’re never late.”

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