The Death and Life of Gabriel Phillips Read Online Free PDF

of fatigue washed over him as he climbed into his patrol car. Every time he closed his eyes, he found himself staring into Gabe’s lifeless face. He wanted to scream and yell and pound the steering wheel, but he had to keep his composure, since the boy’s father was sitting in the passenger seat next to him. Andy glanced over at John as he put the car into gear. Maybe by that point Andy had already spent more time on the case than he should have, because his nerves were frayed in a way that usually didn’t hit him for months, if at all. He kept staring at John Phillips, wondering how someone who had known this child for such a short time could be more upset by his death than the boy’s own father. John noticed Andy’s staring at him. It was a little hard to miss, since Andy wouldn’t let up on the brake and pull the car out of the parking lot. I imagine he looked like he was in some kind of a trance.
    “Would you like me to pray for you?” John asked.
    “What?” Andy replied. The absurdity of the question broke the trance.
    “Would you like me to pray for you?” John replied. “It looks like this night is tearing you up inside, Officer Myers. You don’t have much of a poker face.”
    “No thank you,” Andy replied without a hint of emotion in his voice. He’d pulled himself back into full cop mode. Cool on the outside, even as his anger raged inside him. “That won’t be necessary,” he said as he pulled out onto the street. The drive to the county seat of Adamsburg would take less than twenty minutes. Andy figured he could keep it together until then. And he might have, if John had kept quiet. But since this was the longest night of Andy’s life, you know John kept talking. And talking.
    “Really, Officer,” John said, “it’s no trouble at all. I know the sight of my son lying there had to be hard on you, since you knew him and all. And again, I can’t thank you enough for the kindness you showed my little boy. He loved baseball. After that Reds game, he became the biggest Johnny Bench fan in all of Indiana. I bought him a team poster, but he hung it up in his room at his mother’s house, since he spends more time there than with me.”
    Andy really didn’t need to be reminded of the boy’s mother. In his mind he pictured her when the chaplain knocked on her door. “Christ,” he muttered under his breath.
    “Excuse me, Officer, did you say something?”
    “Listen, Mr. Phillips, would you do me a favor and just shut the hell up?” Andy’s wall of control started to crumble.
    “I understand you are upset. Please, Officer, let me pray for you.”
    The wall started to fall faster. “You know, you’re right,” Andy snapped back. “I am upset. I can’t get over the sight of seeing that little boy lying there. And here’s the hell of it, Mr. Phillips, here’s what really has me messed up inside. I hardly knew your boy, and yet it appears I am more upset over his death than you are.”
    “You are,” John replied.
    Andy knew he should cut off the conversation right there. He knew he needed to let the cop in him take over, but he didn’t. Not yet. “You are one smug son of a bitch, aren’t you, John? I—” Andy stopped himself before he said anything else.
    “That’s not it at all, Officer.”
    “Then what the hell is the matter with you? Your son is dead. Doesn’t that bother you at all?”
    “Of course it bothers me.” Although the words should have been full of emotion, John spoke them with an easy calm. “It bothers me more than you can understand,” he said. “Gabe was my son, my only son. It wasn’t easy for me to let him go, but I have a hope that’s bigger than grief.”
    Andy didn’t buy any of it. “Whatever.”
    John tried to reply, but Andy cut him off. Slowly the cop in him took control. “You need to be very careful about what you say, sir. Your son’s death is being actively investigated. Anything you say to me or to any other police officer will be