Golden Trail (The 'Burg #3)(198)
“When do your parents get home?” Layne went on.
“Tonight,” Tyler replied.
“Where are they?”
“Chicago, Mom’s shoppin’, Dad’s got some conference,” Tyler told him.
“On the phone,” Layne ordered, walking to the kid’s desk and tagging his cell phone. “Tell them they’re coming home now.” He turned and tossed the phone to Tyler who fumbled and dropped it.
Tyler squatted to the phone but his head was tipped back to stare at Layne. “What? Why?” His voice was shrill.
“Because I’m callin’ the cops and they can’t talk to you unless a parent or guardian is present,” Layne explained. “And I reckon it’ll be better for you to call them now than wait and have the cops call them and tell them they’ve got you at the Station.”
Tyler nabbed his phone and straightened like a shot. “But you said –”
“I thought you were f**kin’ around. I didn’t know Cosgrove was involved.”
“But I can’t –” Tyler tried.
“You can and you will,” Layne demanded.
“I can’t! Everyone will know! Coach Cosgrove will be pissed!” He was freaked right the f**k out.
Definitely hiding something.
“All right, this has escaped you but this is not about you anymore. This is about Cosgrove. You owned up to it, got smart and you were honest. You f**ked up. You took a coupla hits and manned up. Now, if you keep your shit together and cooperate, it’ll look good for you. You go back to bein’ a punk, this time a sissy punk, it won’t look so good and you’re in that hole you were in five minutes ago with Jas and Cal both happy to ride your ass until you beg for mercy and me workin’ with all I got to make you pay for what you did to Keira. Again, kid, you got a choice. Make it but make it now,” Layne ordered.
Tyler stared at him.
Then he asked, “I won’t get in trouble?”
“Can’t tell the future,” Layne replied. “Your folks’ll probably be pissed. Girls and their parents know you aren’t afraid of usin’ a date rape drug, you won’t get a date until you go to college. As for the cops, you cooperate, they might feel generous.”
Tyler hesitated so Cal entered the conversation.
“Best deal you’re gonna get, boy,” he growled.
“God!” Tyler, backed into a corner, for once in his life without his Daddy’s money or hotshot CEO bluster to hide behind to keep him safe, exclaimed, “This is jacked up!”
“Yeah, it is,” Jasper told him. “It’s totally jacked, Tyler. So, maybe, take a second to think about this shit and do right, you freakin’ moron.”
Cal cut his eyes to Layne and Layne watched his friend’s lips twitch while he pressed his own together.
Then Layne looked to Tyler. “What’s it gonna be?”
Tyler stared at him again then his eyes did a sweep of Cal and Jasper.
Then he flipped open his phone, pressed a few buttons, put it to his ear and after a few beats, said, “Mom?”
* * * * *
Colt and Sully left the interrogation room, both their jaws tight, their faces hard.
They left behind Tyler Berger and his father Travis. Travis Berger was probably an inch shorter than Layne but no less fit. But whereas Layne worked at being lean and strong, Travis Berger worked at bulk and intimidation. The man was a brute in a suit and his son was definitely a Mama’s Boy. Layne reckoned Tyler got to be a punk because Dad worked long hours, Mom was a pushover and Dad wasn’t all that thrilled with the results of his inattention but his priorities were f**ked. One look at those two and it was evident that career was definitely more important than family. Watching them for half an hour, it wasn’t only evident, it was definite. Travis Berger barely knew his boy and what he knew he didn’t like much.
Cal and Layne were both in the observation room and the air was thick and volatile. They’d watched Colt and Sully work the kid and they’d done it in silence. The silence was because even a word could spark the invisible fuse in the room and when it did, that fuse was short and, once lit, the room would explode.
Travis had let Colt and Sully go all out on his boy, he hadn’t intervened once. He was now standing in the corner, staring down his nose at his son, legs planted wide, arms crossed on his barrel chest, face a mask of pissed way the f**k off.
The door barely closed on Sully when Travis spoke. “What’d I say?”
Layne watched Tyler stare at the table in front of him but he whispered, “Dad –”
“Three strikes,” Travis cut him off. “I told you after you kept f**kin’ around and didn’t listen to me, you had three strikes left. Now, one was that pot I found in your room two weeks ago. Two was that f**kin’ party and I saw your Mom’s Royal Doulton smashed, Ty. To bits. She loves that shit. God knows what other damage was done. I work hard, Ty, I work f**kin’ hard to give you and your Mom nice things, I go away for work and come home and I get this?” He sucked in breath, his face twisted with rage, gearing up for the worst part and he continued. “And three is you drugging Joe f**kin’ Callahan’s daughter in order to get in her pants.”
Layne had been right. Tyler had been hiding something and what he’d been hiding was that Cosgrove gave him the drug to frame Jasper. He was supposed to give it to Keira, lead her away, get her in a compromising position, “find her” and tell everyone, including the cops, he saw Jas do it. Considering he’d given her Rohypnol, even Keira wouldn’t have known who slipped her the drug or what happened to her because she wouldn’t have remembered. Jasper would have been f**ked, his future ruined, his reputation destroyed and he’d lose his girl.