Wired (Buchanan-Renard #13)(28)

“Do you think a new lawyer could keep you out of prison?”

“Yes, of course I do, if he knows what he’s doing. Don’t you agree?”

She nodded. She was determined to placate him, no matter what. Debating him would only incite his anger.

“Are you on my side or not?” he asked.

“I don’t want you to go to prison,” she said, giving him an evasive answer.

Allison wondered if he would ever face reality. She knew there had to be more to the story than he was telling. A bar fight didn’t usually bring such harsh charges, did it? Unless someone was seriously injured, or unless the prosecutor could prove that there was an established pattern of behavior. How many fights had Will started? Probably more than he could remember.

“I guess I’d better go inside and find out why I was summoned,” she said as she climbed the steps.

She already knew the reason her aunt had called her, of course. If Will wanted a new, more expensive lawyer, then, by God, he was getting one, which meant his parents needed help coming up with the money.

On the drive to Emerson, Allison had played out the impending scene with her aunt and uncle in her head. She had witnessed it so many times in the past she could practically recite the dialogue by heart. In the end, her aunt would play the gratitude card and expect her to cave. Something was different this time, though. Maybe it was seeing Will at the end of his rope. Maybe Allison had reached the end of hers. Regardless of the reason, she knew what she had to do.

Her hand on the doorknob, she paused, then turned back to Will. “This is the last time I’ll be coming back here.”

He acted as though he hadn’t heard her. “I’m scared,” he blurted. “This could be bad. I swear, if I get out of this, I’m going to change. I know I’ve said that before, but I mean it this time. I want to go back to college and finish. I can’t go to prison.” A look of panic crossed his face, and there was a pathetic whine in his voice when he said, “I just can’t. I wouldn’t last a week.”

Will looked so tormented, she almost felt pity for him. Was this finally the wake-up call he needed? Or was she being naive once more? Charlotte had told her again and again not to believe anything Will said. He was a habitual liar and would do or say anything to get what he wanted. Allison had fought against becoming that cynical. She wanted to believe that people were basically good even though life’s lessons wore them down. She also wanted to believe in second chances, but how many chances had Will already had to turn his life around?

Despite her determination to turn away, she heard herself say, “Will, you know I’ll help you if I can.”

“I know.”

“You might want to stay out here while I talk to your parents. It’s not going to be pleasant.” She didn’t explain further. She guessed he’d hear his parents bellowing soon enough and get the gist of the conversation. Bracing herself for the inevitable fight ahead of her, she opened the door and went inside.

Her aunt and uncle were sitting across from each other at the dining room table.

They hadn’t heard her come in, and as she stood there in the entry hall looking at them, her mind flashed back to that day all those years ago when she and Charlotte sat next to each other, holding hands, at this very table.

It was the week after the worst week of their young lives. They had been at home with a babysitter when the knock on the door came and they were told their mother and father had been in a terrible accident. Allison didn’t remember much about the rest of that week. It was all a blur of people coming and going, neighbors stepping forward to make sure she and Charlotte were not left alone, a huge church full of people wearing black, she and her sister sitting in a big black car in a line of black cars, the whispers What about the girls? Where will they go? and Charlotte crying. The clearest memory she had was of Charlotte. No matter how Allison had tried, she couldn’t get Charlotte to stop crying. Allison felt sad, but she was too young to comprehend death. She kept waiting for her mother and father to come home.

Reality began to sink in when Aunt Jane and Uncle Russell came to take the girls to their house. Allison knew her aunt and uncle, but not well. She had seen them only a few times. Charlotte later told her it was because her father and her uncle had not gotten along. Allison could understand. Her father was a gregarious and kind man. Uncle Russell seemed sour and detached, and he had married a woman who was domineering and never satisfied. Their son, Will, was a brat.

Allison and Charlotte hadn’t even taken off their coats before Aunt Jane told them to sit down at the dining room table. There were a few things she and Uncle Russell needed to make clear. The first was how lucky the girls were to have an aunt and uncle willing to take them in. If they hadn’t stepped up, she said, the girls would have been placed in foster care. Allison didn’t know what foster care was, but the way her aunt said the words made her imagine some sort of dark and scary dungeon where they would be chained up and fed scraps of rancid food. The second thing her aunt told them was how much of a burden this was going to be, not only for her and Uncle Russell, but also for Will. They were not a wealthy family, after all, but they were willing to make a sacrifice for the girls out of love and respect for their dear dead parents. In return, the girls were expected to be well behaved and hardworking.

Uncle Russell then showed them to the small room she and Charlotte were to share. The walls were painted a drab tan, and there were no curtains, just aluminum blinds covering the windows. The furnishings were sparse: two twin beds with a nightstand between them and a tall dresser on the opposite wall. This was nothing like her pink-and-white bedroom at home with the matching polka-dot curtains and bedspread. Charlotte sat down on her bed and began to weep, but Allison was too relieved to cry. Anything was better than going to that “foster” place. If Uncle Russell and Aunt Jane were willing to let them stay here, she would do her very best to make them happy. She never wanted them to regret giving her a place to live.