Chapter Three

By the time Andrew came out of the house, Bobby had fallen asleep in Jaron's arms. Jaron sat on the neighbor's lawn on the other side of the yellow police tape. If the neighbors minded, they didn't say. They didn't come out of their house, but looked through the front window, sliding the curtains back. They didn't offer Jaron and Bobby help or even something to drink, not that Jaron would have been able to hold anything in his stomach anyway. In the three years Jaron had lived in the house, he'd never talked to them. The neighborhood wasn't the type that someone could go up to a house and knock.

Cops were everywhere. In and out of the open doorway as if they lived there. He expected paramedics with body bags to roll up the sidewalk, but they weren't ready for that step yet.

When Andrew finally did step out, he wasn't alone. A cop, who dressed a lot like Andrew, in a suit, stood beside him, and the two spoke. Jaron couldn't hear what they were saying past the buzz of voices. They weren't trying to keep the conversation private, though. That much was clear in the way Andrew pointed at Jaron.

Both men crossed the yard, heading in his direction, but Andrew stopped halfway there, leaning against a tree as if waiting for something.

The other detective pulled a notepad and a pen from his pocket as he made his way over. The detective knelt in front of him, smiling at a sleeping Bobby, who looked peaceful despite the trauma he'd been through in the last few hours. His smile disappeared when he met Jaron's gaze again. "Detective Martinez tells me you live here with the deceased female."

Oh God, calling Tracy that drove the nice layer of numbness away until Jaron's emotions were raw again. A lump formed at the base of his throat. He tried to swallow it down, but that didn't work so he spoke around it as best he could. "She was alive when I left her."

"And what time was that?"

"Somewhere around ten o'clock this morning. I had the lunch shift at work. Should still be there." God, if Jaron wouldn't have called home than Bobby would have been alone for a lot longer.

Jaron pulled Bobby closer, putting his hand on Bobby's chest, feeling the air move in and out.

"Why'd you leave work early?"

"Tracy. She…she's an addict. Hasn't used in like two months and this is usually the time she starts back up again. So I called home to make sure she wasn't getting high around Bobby."

"When you called did you speak to anyone?"

"No one answered."

"What did you do after that?"

"Called Andrew."

"Why call Detective Martinez?"

"I work at the diner on the corner of Fifth and Water. Taking the bus would take too long. So I called Andrew for a ride."

"Did you expect trouble? Is that why you called him?"

"Andrew and I are close friends. He has my back. Always." He thought about the first question. "Tracy…she can be reckless."

Not anymore. Tracy's recklessness had caught up with her. She couldn't be anything anymore.

"In what way?"

"She trusts easily. That guy on the couch. His name's Vince. I saw him in passing once when he dropped Tracy off last week. He's part of that motorcycle gang that deals meth in this part of town. A bad guy." Vince was nothing anymore. Snuffed out like a candle. Not even a trickle of smoke. "This morning Tracy called him her boyfriend."

The cop wrote down what Jaron had said. "And how did that make you feel? Her having a boyfriend?"

Jaron shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I told her I didn't want Bobby around someone like him."

"You weren't jealous?"

He knew that's where the cop planned on taking his questioning. He had to cover all the bases and make sure Jaron hadn't gone in there in a jealous rage. Jaron could see by the detective's expression he didn't actually believe Jaron had anything to do with it. "Tracy and I were best friends."

"You the kid's father?"

"In every way that counts." He could see the confusion in the detective's eyes. He sighed before explaining his situation. "I met Tracy when she was five months pregnant. Tracy and I hit it off right away. Bobby's bio dad was some john of hers. We decided to raise Bobby together. Every kid deserves a dad, right?" Jaron's own dad left before he could remember the guy. As far as Jaron was concerned, his father provided sperm, nothing more.

"So platonic."

Jaron nodded. "Tracy's not exactly my type."

The detective wrote a few things down, putting his notepad and pen back under the flap of his jacket. "I might have more questions for you, so stay available."

"Andrew will know where I'm at."

The detective nodded and stood. He turned and closed the distance to Andrew. "He's all yours."

Andrew nodded, not taking his eyes off Jaron. He closed the distance between them and squatted down much the same way the other detective had. Andrew looked at Bobby, brushing hair off his forehead. "How are you guys holding up?"

Jaron shrugged.

"So they're not going to let you stay inside. How about you come home with me? Let Mami take care of you and Bobby."

"Thank you." Jaron wouldn't have been able to stay in their apartment anyway. "You don't have to stay and investigate or whatever?"

"Not my case. I'm way to close to the situation. And I'm as much a witness as you."

Jaron smirked. "You mean I'm not a suspect?"

"Nah. I'll tell you what we think happened in the car."

"Can I pack us some clothes and stuff?"

"I'll go in and do it for you." Andrew stood and bent down, holding out his arms to take Bobby so Jaron could stand. As soon as Jaron let go, Bobby came awake. His little body jerked right before screaming for Jaron. Andrew whispered reassuring words, but nothing he said calmed the panic.

Jaron came to his feet and took Bobby back. "Shh, Papa's got you. Papa's here."

Bobby quieted immediately. He shook even as he wrapped his arms around Jaron's neck and his legs around his waist, holding on as if his life depended on it. Given what Bobby had witnessed, he probably thought it did.

Jaron met Andrew's gaze. An entire conversation happened between them with just one look because they were both thinking the same thing. Kids proved time and again that they were a resilient bunch, but Bobby would suffer before the storm calmed. "Papa's not going anywhere. Ever."

"Mommy didn't wake up."

Oh God. Jaron shut his eyes as the emotions washed over him. "I know, baby."

"You'll wake up?"

"Always. I promise a thousand times."

Andrew cleared his throat. "I'll go pack that bag."

The seatbelt laws required Bobby to sit in the back, but none of the cops cared that Jaron sat in the front passenger's seat with Bobby on his lap. Bobby was still wrapped around him, not moving even when Jaron pulled the belt around them both, and Andrew got the car moving.

Bobby slowly relaxed, and his breathing evened out again. For a kid who fought naps on a regular basis, stress seemed to send him over the edge needed for a peaceful nap to happen. Jaron would take the boy who fought him with everything he had, if it meant Bobby didn't have to go through watching his mother die again.

"He asleep?"

Jaron rubbed circles on Bobby's back. "Yeah."

"You want to hear what we think happened?"

Jaron swallowed down the lump in his throat that never quite went away. "Yes."

"You sure? It's not a pretty story."

"Just tell me." He'd rather have it ripped off like a bandage. As hard as it was to hear, it wouldn't get any easier.

"So based on the evidence, it looks like the male victim shot first. We're testing for gun residue to make sure. Based on what Bobby said, it appeared the male shot Tracy. She had a wound in her abdominal region. As fatal as it was, it didn't kill her right away. She fought with him and somehow got the gun away. Shot him. We think he might have been high. He's a big guy, so it's unlikely she overpowered him otherwise."

"Tracy protected Bobby. She wasn't the greatest mother, but she wouldn't have let him get hurt. Maybe her maternal instinct made her stronger."

Andrew shrugged. "Can't rule it out. My mom has a protective instinct to rival anything."

Jaron shut his eyes and let the hum of the engine lull him for a bit. "I think…I think I'm gonna move back home." He didn't even know he intended to say that aloud until the words were out, floating around his brain, burrowing in until the thought became a good idea.

"Home? As in crappy farm town where it ‘sucked so much, you don't even know Andrew'."

Jaron chuckled through the tears. "I don't sound like that."

"Yes, you do, vato."

Jaron opened his eyes again. "I think raising Bobby here would be a mistake. He needs stability and as much as it scares me to move back, I don't have the money to go anywhere else. I'll need my mother's help."

He wasn't worried about the gossipmongers in Pickleville so much as the bullying in the school system. He'd had two main bullies, which didn't sound like a lot with an entire school full of children but two was enough. Especially when everyone else had done nothing to help the situation. Not most of the other students or most of the teachers. But even that was better than the violence and lack of academic structure of the schools in the city.

"He has stability with you. You know that."

Jaron took a deep breath in and then let it out slowly, calming himself from the inside out. "I let Bobby see too much. Drugs were all over the living room. Bobby had to have seen them, and he's heard us talking about the stuff Tracy got up to. Once he gets in school, the kids around here will try to sell it to him. He'll get as hooked as his mother. I can't do that to him."

"You blaming yourself for Tracy?"

"No." Jaron's thoughts were in a jumble and he was in panic mode. He had to be if he contemplated moving back to Pickleville. Articulating took more time than he cared for, but Andrew didn't seem to mind the silences in between the explanations. "I think…I'll never get out of that neighborhood. Doesn't matter how many shifts I take at the diner."

"Keep going. It helps to talk."

"That damn neighborhood, with the drugs and guns, sucks people in until they do things they ain't proud of, and I can't afford that. Bobby can't afford that."

Andrew nodded. "I've made arrests in that part of the city plenty of times. You're right about it being bad news. But you ain't like those others."

"Not yet, but what happens when the rest of Vince's gang finds out they lost him and one of their sellers. We both know they'll kill me if I don't agree to sell for them. I'm not a good enough liar to be a criminal. I'd be in jail inside of six months. Then where would Bobby be. Foster care."

"I'll shut down that gang's operation. You have my word on that." Andrew's jaw ticced out a rhythm that spoke of his conviction. "When are you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible. I don't have a lot of money in savings, but I have enough for bus tickets and a couple of months helping my mom with bills and food." His mother would help him. He knew she would, even with the radio silence he'd given her over the last seven years. Parenthood had a way of making him see things from a different perspective, so he understood that working all the time didn't necessarily mean she didn't care about him.