Make Me Melt(32)

If things had gone differently...

Jason squeezed the bridge of his nose, unwilling to picture himself like Eddie. He pushed aside the unwelcome memories that his visit had stirred up, reminding himself that he’d chosen a different path. He and the gang leader were like opposite sides of the same coin; they’d been punched from the same piece of metal but had been stamped with different dies.

After a moment, Jason switched on the ignition. Glancing up at the top floor of the warehouse, he could see Eddie watching him through the windows. Thrusting the SUV into gear, he slowly drove away.

As he drove away from the seedy neighborhood, he couldn’t prevent himself from taking a detour down Griffith Street. He didn’t want to see his father; he didn’t want to see the squalor and poverty in which he was surely living. He told himself again that his old man had made his own choices and was ultimately responsible for where he was in life. But another part of him wanted to make sure that he was okay.

He drove slowly down Griffith Street, until he came to the treatment center that Eddie had mentioned. It was a modest two-story structure with an enormous, wraparound porch. Several people sat outside, watching the traffic go by. There were two old, frail-looking men sitting in chairs, smoking cigarettes. As Jason drove past, he thought one of them might be his father. But without stopping for a closer look, he couldn’t be certain.

He continued down the road, telling himself he couldn’t stop. Nothing good would come of seeing him face-to-face. It had taken him years to set aside the anger and resentment he’d held toward his old man. Even now, knowing that addiction was a disease and that his father was as much a victim as he was, he didn’t trust himself to speak to Daryl Cooper. He didn’t need that kind of disappointment in his life.

Instead, he scribbled down the name of the center, knowing that he’d make a phone call later on to determine if his father was staying there. Then he’d probably provide them with a substantial donation in which to better feed and clothe their clients. He knew the gesture would only go so far in assuaging his own guilt, but he had no desire to establish any closer reunion       with his father. He had nothing to say to him, and the man had lost the right to be his father a long, long time ago. Jason would ensure he was taken care of, out of respect for his grandmother’s memory, but that was it.

He didn’t know if Eddie had told him the truth when he’d said he had nothing to do with the shooting. But he wouldn’t take him at his word. Guys like Green had learned to survive through deception. If he hadn’t been involved, Jason knew he’d piqued Eddie’s interest in the case. He also knew that the gang leader liked to perceive himself as having connections, especially if those connections were with law enforcement. He might even be thinking that if he did Jason a solid, he could one day call in the favor.

Glancing at his watch, he saw he’d been gone for almost two hours. He wished now that he’d kept the room at the Fairmont. After visiting Hunters Point, he felt like he needed a shower. The smell of Eddie’s cologne still clung to him. In a moment of panic, he angled the rearview mirror so that he could see his own reflection. Outwardly, he looked exactly the same, but Jason didn’t feel reassured. Anyone who looked closely enough would see him for what he really was.





9


CAROLINE LOOKED UP as Jason entered the hospital room. She had to resist the urge to fly into his arms, she was so happy to see him.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Caroline nodded. “Yes. Did Deputy Black tell you the good news?” She looked back at her father. “He came out of the coma this afternoon and responded to the doctors.”

Jason came to stand beside her, gently squeezing her shoulder as they both looked down at the judge. “That’s great.”

Reaching up, Caroline covered his hand with her own. “He’s not out of the woods yet, and he still has a long way to go, but the doctors are optimistic that he didn’t suffer any serious brain damage.”

She heard Jason exhale a long sigh of relief. More than anything, she wanted him to wrap her in his arms and tell her that everything would be okay, but she knew that he wouldn’t display any overt affection toward her in public, at least not while he was officially assigned to protect her. So she contented herself with this small contact and leaned back against him.

“He’s the strongest man I know,” Jason murmured in her ear. “If anyone can pull through, he can.”

“I agree,” she said softly. “They sedated him, but the doctors think they can move him out of intensive care in a day or so.”

“They didn’t remove his ventilator,” Jason observed.

“No.” Caroline knew he was hoping that the judge would be able to identify the shooter, enabling the FBI to make an arrest. “He only opened his eyes briefly, and he was able to squeeze the doctor’s hand on command. But he won’t be able to speak until the ventilator is removed. Then they gave him something for the pain, which pretty much knocked him out again.”

“Okay. Maybe in a day or two, he’ll be able to give us an indication of who did this to him.”

“I hope so,” she said. “But the doctors cautioned us that he may not have any memories of that night.”

They’d told Caroline and Agent Black that it wasn’t uncommon for victims to have no recollection of a traumatic event.