A Matter of Trust

Chapter 40





In the hours since she had seen the videotape of the flash mob robbery, Mia had been a wreck. Useless. Her head throbbed. Her stomach roiled.

They had made a breakthrough in figuring out the link between Colleen’s and Stan’s murders, or at least this Ophelia woman had, but all Mia could think about was her son.

Gabe was a thief, or an almost-thief. She had thought she had raised him to stand up to peer pressure, but she had thought wrong. Instead he had gone along, joined a faceless mob bent on terrorizing some poor shop owners just because they could. Just because it was fun to snatch and grab and run away.

What other secrets was her son keeping from her? Was he skipping school? Cheating? Using drugs? Drinking, the way Scott had once and probably still had been?

Maybe the bad gene had come from Scott, the ability to lie to her face without a flicker to betray him.

Mia was still meeting with Ophelia, Jonas, and Charlie when school got out at three, but she got the meeting to wrap up as soon afterward as she could. After they were gone, she closed the door to her office and dialed Gabe’s cell number with a shaking finger, not bothering to go into her contacts list. She didn’t have time to work her way through menus. She had to talk to him now.

“Hello?” Gabe’s voice was nearly unrecognizable, slower and deeper. He must be drunk or high or both. Who knew if he had as many football practices as he said, or if he did, that he went to them? Maybe the reason the coach hadn’t been putting him in was that Gabe never attended practice.

The words poured out of Mia as if someone had breached a dike. “You are grounded immediately. I’m sure you can guess why. And I don’t want to hear one word of argument from you, young man. I trusted you, Gabe. I trusted you.”

There was a long pause. Mia imagined him getting ready to spit out something defiant, and the muscles in her neck and shoulders knotted up.

Instead the voice on the other end of the phone said slowly, “Who do you think you’re talking to? Because I think you might have the wrong number.”

It took a second to reorient herself. “Um, isn’t this 206 . . .” and she reeled off the rest of Gabe’s cell number.

“My number’s almost the same, but it starts with 204. I’m in Winnipeg.”

“Winnipeg? Like in Canada?”

His voice—a voice that Mia now clearly recognized as belonging to a full-grown man—was amused. “Yes, Canada. Best of luck to you and your Gabe, though.” And he hung up.

Part of Mia knew that someday she might find this funny. In about ten years. But the rest of her was still angry. Still, she decided it would be better to confront Gabe in person, where she could watch his expressions and his body language the way she would a suspect’s.

She forced herself to work until five, preparing what she would say to the grand jury the next day. Then she drove home. How would Gabe react? Anger? Annoyance? Indifference?

When she walked into the kitchen, he was pouring applesauce into a bowl while Brooke waited. She turned and cried out, “Mommy!” in a happy voice.

Gabe’s face went still and watchful when he saw her walk in so early. She felt herself grow hot with anger.

“What are you doing home so early, Mom?”

Instead of answering, she bent over Brooke. “Honey, can you go into the family room and watch TV for a minute? Your brother and I need to talk.”

“Okay.” Brooke was too young to be curious. Instead she took the bowl of applesauce from Gabe and walked off. It was too full and she would probably spill some. Mia didn’t care. Let her ruin the whole carpet. Everything was already ruined.

She turned back to Gabe. “I think you can probably guess why I came home.”

He kept silent, as if there was some faint chance that if he didn’t cop to it he wouldn’t get in trouble. Mia had seen this type of behavior more times than she cared to count. But always from criminals. She had never expected to see it from her own son.

“Today at work I saw a videotape from the Sunshine Mart that was taken on Saturday afternoon. And I saw what you and those other kids did.” She forced herself to take a breath. “What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t know what they were going to do until they were doing it.” Gabe fisted his hands in his hair and tugged. “And by then it was too late. What was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to say no. You were supposed to say no and walk away.”

“I didn’t even take anything.”

“I saw the tape, Gabe. You were holding a candy bar.”

“Yeah, but someone tossed it to me and then I just put it down. I didn’t take it!”

“If the police want to make a case, it doesn’t matter if you didn’t actually take possession of it. If you intended to steal, it could still be third-degree theft. Among other charges. And you know what else, Gabe? You could end up costing me my job.”

“You? But you didn’t do anything!” His voice was full of pain. “I’m the one who messed up. Not you!”

“Yes, but once it comes out that you’re my kid, they could decide it’s a conflict of interest for our office to prosecute it. Then it could be assigned to a multiagency task force to investigate. You could end up dragging my name through the mud. My boss would not like that.” Which was an understatement. Frank would be furious.

“Tell me what I can do.” Gabe’s voice was high-pitched. Desperate. “Tell me what I can do to make it right!”

Mia had been mulling over this ever since she saw the video. “First of all, you’re grounded.”

“Okay.”

He nodded eagerly, but she wasn’t done. She wasn’t anywhere near done.

“Second of all, I’m going to expect you to go into that store and give that shop owner fifty dollars and apologize. And then you are going to have to work to earn that fifty dollars to pay me back.”

“Can’t I just mail it to him?” Gabe scuffed the floor with the toe of his Vans.

“No. You went there in person to cause him trouble. You can say you’re sorry in person too.”

Gabe took a deep breath, and she saw him steel himself. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“That isn’t everything, Gabe. Right now we’re going down to the police department, and you’re going to tell them what you did. And not only that, you are going to give them the name of every kid you know who was at that store.”

“What?” He began to shake his head. “No way! Those are my friends!”

“Friends? You don’t need those kinds of friends.”

“But you don’t understand.” His voice cracked. “I do need them! These guys like me even though I’m not very good at football and I have to watch my baby sister all the time.”

“Do they really like you, Gabe? Like you for you? Or do they like you because they know you’ll go along with them?” He started to open his mouth, but Mia held up her hand. “Don’t answer me right now. I want you to think about it. And I also want you to think about this: if you don’t stand up for small things, then by the time big ones come along, you won’t be strong enough to stand up for them either.”

“But you want me to tell on my friends.” His look was anguished.

“I’m not saying it’s not going to be hard. But it’s the right thing to do. And look at this logically. The police already have the video. The visuals are clear. Including images of you. That shirt pulled over your nose and mouth isn’t much of a disguise. It’s only a matter of time before they figure out one or two of the people who were in there. And once they have one, that person will give up the rest. We have a bargaining position if you go there voluntarily.” Mia hated to be thinking strategically. But this was her son. “We lose that once you’re identified.”

“But I didn’t even take the stupid candy bar!” His voice rose. “I didn’t take anything!”

“There could still be other charges. Conspiracy to commit theft. Disorderly conduct. Malicious mischief. They’re talking about making an example of the kids who were there so it doesn’t happen again. Even if you didn’t take anything, it doesn’t change that you were willingly there.”

“Okay.” Gabe’s shoulders slumped. “Okay, I’ll talk to the police.”

At the police station Brooke tilted her head back to look at the high ceiling, slowing their progress, while Mia resisted the urge to tug her forward. Her heels echoed on the white marble floor. She asked the woman behind the bulletproof glass for Marc Stoker, the detective handling the case. Tracy had given Mia his name when Mia told her she might have recognized one of the kids on the tape. Mia hadn’t said it was Gabe, and she had been relieved when she didn’t recognize the detective’s name. Bad enough to go through this with a stranger. Far worse to do it with someone she had worked with. Then she had called to ask if Marc could stay late to meet them.

Now they waited in silence. Her son stood two paces behind her with his head down. When the detective came out, Gabe’s eyes widened. Marc Stoker’s biceps strained the short sleeves of his black uniform shirt. He had a shaved head, a brown mustache, and a close-trimmed goatee.

“My son has a matter he wishes to speak to you about.” Mia didn’t let on that she had paved the way for this. Let Gabe carry the burden.

Gabe’s voice was low. “I went to that Sunshine Mart with those kids. The ones who stole things. But I didn’t take anything.”

“All right,” Marc said. “Let’s go on back and talk.”

He took them to a room where a video player was set up. At first Brooke watched the tape with interest. She grew bored as Marc stopped and started it, walking Gabe through what had happened and writing down the names Gabe knew. Mia had tossed some crayons and a notebook into her purse before leaving home, and now she let Brooke draw while she half listened to what Gabe was saying.

Then she heard Gabe say Zach’s name as he pointed at one of the boys wearing bandannas. Mia stiffened. The kid who had shaken her hand, looked her in the eye, asked about her job? The one who had made such a good impression? Maybe she was no better judge of character than Gabe.

Eventually Marc asked Gabe to look through yearbooks for kids whose names he didn’t know but who had taken part.

“Where do you get the yearbooks from?” Gabe asked. He was starting to relax because he thought the worst was over. He didn’t know Mia was planning one more stop before this day—which she hoped was the worst in his life—was over.

“Every year we ask the schools to send them to us,” Marc said. “As you can see, they can come in handy.” It was depressing to think that a percentage of the yearbook’s smiling faces would someday be posing for mug shots.

While Gabe was looking through them, Mia stepped out into the hallway and made a phone call. Fifteen minutes later the detective said they were done and shook Gabe’s hand. Gabe’s shoulders straightened.

“There’s one more stop we have to make,” Mia said as they walked to the car.

He stopped. “What?”

“We’re going to see your coach.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “Mom—no.”

“I know there’s a code of conduct for the team, and you violated it. I need you to tell Coach Harper that yourself.”

Gabe was silent during the twenty-minute drive to the coach’s house. Mia did not attempt to fill it. She hoped he was thinking. In the back Brooke had fallen asleep, her head at an awkward angle. When Mia pulled into the driveway, she hoisted Brooke onto her hip, ignoring her sleepy grumbles.

The coach answered the door. Standing this close to him, she realized with a shock that she was probably a few years older than he was. He had light red hair and eyes that slanted down at the corners. From the back of the house, Mia could hear the piping sound of a young child’s voice and a woman’s soft answer.

“Coach Harper,” she said, shifting Brooke’s weight so she could offer her hand. “I’m Mia Quinn. Gabe’s mom.”

“Hello.” His expression was wary. Mia had given him the barest explanation of why they were coming.

“Gabe, can you tell the coach what happened on Sunday?”

In a few halting sentences, her son laid it out. He kept his eyes down until the very end.

The coach sucked in a breath. “And were there other players from the team involved?”

“Yes, sir.”

He winced. “Under the code of conduct I had you all sign, you are held to the highest standards of moral behavior and character both on and off the field. What happened on Sunday clearly violated that code.”

“Yes, sir.”

The coach’s jaw firmed. “Who were the other players, Gabe?”

Mia stepped forward. “The police are figuring that out now, and I expect there will be charges filed. Right now, the way I see it, this is between you and Gabe, between Gabe and his conscience, and between Gabe and me. The information about who else was involved is going to come out, but I don’t think it has to come to you from Gabe.”

Coach Harper looked up at the ceiling, thinking. Then he nodded. “All right. I accept that.” He turned to Gabe. “I’m glad you came to me. I’m guessing this was your mother’s idea, but still, you’re here and you’re being honest. I respect that.”

Gabe’s shoulders relaxed the tiniest bit.

“But I also have to consider that you acted in a way that violated our ethics. I’m going to bench you for three games.”

Gabe took a ragged breath and then nodded. “I actually haven’t played once since the season started.”

The coach nodded. “I’m aware of that.”

“You are?” His eyes widened, and in her son’s expression Mia could see how beaten down he had been feeling, sitting on the bench game after game.

“Yes.”

“But why? What have I been doing wrong?”

Coach Harper’s face was open. “What do you think, Gabe?”

Gabe hesitated and then said in a rush, “It could be because I’m not good enough. Or because I’m new and don’t know the plays yet. Or because I missed that one practice.”

“If you weren’t good enough, you wouldn’t have made the team.” The coach put his hand on Gabe’s shoulder. “It’s the second thing you said—you don’t know the plays well enough yet. But you keep studying the playbook and you keep showing up to practice, and you will.” He squeezed his shoulder and then let go. “I have faith in you, Gabe.”

“Even after today?” Gabe bit his lip. His eyes were shiny.

“Maybe especially after today.”