Off Limits(60)

Agent Jacobi shook his head. “No, wrapping up things with Atlanta PD,” he said. “I believe there is a little situation of someone putting cuffs on Mr. Bell that needs to be cleared up. Also, they'll take another statement from him, although we talked with him last night. His story and yours are pretty clear. It all matches what your friend said as well.”

“Then let me get some scrubs, and I'll go see Shawnie. Is there anything else you need?”

Agent Morgan looked at his coworkers and shook his head. “We might be in touch soon. For sure, the prosecutor will want you to be available to testify, but that might be a long time off.”

“That's fine. Right now, I want to see three people: Daddy, Shawnie, and Dane. In that order.”





Chapter 18





Dane





The doctors were actually super conservative with both Shawnie and Patrick, keeping both of them in the hospital for over a week. I kept myself busy during that time, going into Lake Ford two days after the attack to clean out my locker. As soon as I walked in, I could feel the uncomfortable silence from everyone. Chris's arrest had made not just local but national news, and most of the details that could be released already had been. Of course, the effect on Lake Automotive was immediate and crippling. The lot was as empty as a ghost town, and the repair shop had only one vehicle, an out-of-state Fiesta that looked like it had a blown tire up on the racks.

I felt for the guys in the shop. They knew what had happened wasn't my fault, but at the same time, they couldn't help but blame me just a little bit. After all, Chris had been my friend, and I'd been the one to take him down, which indirectly hurt them. Sure, it's a side of people that we don't like to talk about, but I didn't fault them for it. The negative press would most likely cost them their jobs.

I found Hank Lake in his office, sipping a cup of coffee and looking about twenty years older than I had seen him the week before. The sales manager was with me, mostly to make sure there wasn't a scene. It was the last thing anyone needed. “Mr. Lake? I just came by to turn in my resignation and to hand in my keys.”

Hank looked up and held out his hand, his fingers trembling as I handed over the keys. “Also, sir, um, I'm not sure how to do this, but this other key is to the apartment in the Mayfair Tower. It's only for the main door. I don't have a deadbolt key.”

I set it on the desk and pushed it closer, Hank's hand recoiling as if the metal were poisonous. The sales manager shifted from left foot to right, not sure what to say or do, and looking like he wanted to be somewhere else at the moment.

Hank swallowed and looked up at me for the first time. “Thank you, Bell. I know that it'd be impossible for you to come back to work here, but . . . I'm sorry. Chris is family, but what he did was wrong.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Lake. Neither of us recognized what Chris was up to, and I spent years closer than a brother with him. I'm just glad that it's over now.”

Hank sighed, then looked at me. “So what now?”

“Take care of your family,” I said. “If it were me, after the blow this causes, I'd sell the group, or at least rebrand it. Take the money and make a nest egg for the next generation. As for Chris . . .”

“He'll stand on his own,” Hank said with only a hint of venom. “He gets no help from me. I've got two kids of my own to protect.”

I nodded. “Then I guess this is it. I'm sorry it didn't work out, Mr. Lake.”

Hank stood up and offered me his hand. He may have been hurt, his faith in himself and in his own perceptions shattered, but he was a true man. We shook, and Hank tried to smile. “You're a good man, Dane Bell. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.”



* * *



A few days later, I went to the McCamish Pavilion with Brittany, dressed in a suit that I still felt uncomfortable in. Brittany was on my arm, holding a video camera like a young parent at a kindergarten or something.

“If Patrick can't be here in person, I’m going to make sure he can at least see the video,” she whispered to me. We had good seats and could see the whole stage where the ceremony would take place. “And stop fidgeting.”

“Sorry,” I muttered, then laughed. “I guess now, you have someone else you have to teach the social rules to other than Abby?”

Brittany blushed slightly, then patted my arm. “Maybe. It’s just a bit of a habit. And if my stepdaughter is going to see you, I'm going to do my best to make sure you’re a good influence.”

“By the way, they're webcasting this thing too,” I said as I looked at the program. “Didn't you know?”

Brittany nodded and adjusted the camera just a bit on its tripod. “I don't care. This is for posterity. Do you think I’m too uptight?”

I thought about it a bit, reflecting that for a woman who I had literally kicked to the floor less than a week earlier, she and I had come to find a common ground rather quickly. Though if it wasn’t for a near tragedy, I don’t know if that would have been the case. It’s weird how it works like that. As we still had some time before the ceremony started, I took my time before answering. “I think you have good intentions. But I do think that the idea of them fitting in with the culture club has pretty much sailed. As for me, you could work with me for the next thirty years, and I still wouldn’t fit in. No matter how I talked or acted, one look at my tats and I’d be an outcast.”