dying. That was the hardest part.”
It just dawned on me that I was actually having a conversation for the first time and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. We were six months in to my weekly therapy sessions and I still acted as resistant and defiant as I did the first day we met.
I spent the rest of the hour- long session filling Dr. Sharper in on my first potential case. I talked about Esteban Machado and what little I knew of him. Lindsey had given me some further background information on Esteban, none of which was pretty. I cut Dr. Sharper off before she attempted to analyze Esteban and his shitty- ass home life.
The timer had gone off.
Wow! Time’s up already!
I hesitated before I got up to leave figuring Sharper would have some last minute words of wisdom for me. But since she sat in silence studying the paperwork on her lap, I rose.
Without looking at me she said, “And Chase, this isn’t my doing.”
“Yeah,” was all I said.
Was she talking about it being my fault or was someone else involved in keeping me out of the force? Right now, I didn’t care.
I left Sharper’s office and headed over to Lindsey’s school. She sent me a text telling me that she was able to get the principal to agree to my investigative duties. I was to report to Mr. Glen Garvey’s office after my ‘prior appointment.’ My new career was underway.
On my drive across town, I began to feel a jolt of electricity flow through my bloodstream. Something I hadn’t felt in six months. Maybe it was the fact that I might not have to abide by my department- issued requirement to meet with Sharper any longer. I wasn’t returning to the job I necessarily wanted but I was still returning to a job. Which to me meant that I could be done with Dr. Sharper and her wishy- washy witchcraft. Maybe it was that I had an opportunity to see Lindsey during the day. Maybe it was the fact that I was starting to get back to work, in some fashion. It might have been one or it might have been none. Either way I knew I was starting to feel alive.
You’re alive but Jake isn’t.
My conscience screamed at me on a regular basis but it’d become easier to shake it off rather than let it linger and ruin who I was as a person. I’ve always been one to wrestle with my conscience more often than most, but it usually pertained to my inability to make my own decisions. I often asked myself questions and used my mind’s voice to rationally talk things through before becoming impulsive.
I wish I relied more on my conscience the night Jake died.
NINe
The Right Step School was a one- story building set in the middle of a rural neighborhood. It once was a veterinarian’s office. The front office was still designed as a receptionist’s desk, with the high- top counter, and a sliding glass window in front. There were only seven classrooms that were once used to treat everything from cats and dogs to iguanas and snakes. I remember Lindsey telling me it took a full year to rid the building of the various pet odors.
I parked around back and found Lindsey waiting for me in the front office. I had sent her a text when I was on my way. A long line of school buses and vans were lined along the back of the building, prepared for dismissal. The main entrance was on the side. When I saw Lindsey I gave her a casual hug, appropriate enough for the work place. She marched me down the hallway, passing an empty staff lounge, and we made a right turn to get to Principal Garvey’s office. Adjacent to the principal’s