And I absolutely was.
Because I knew, without a doubt, finally, that Miah was.
*
Chace
One day later
“You can show me,” Miah said softly and Chace turned his head and looked at him.
They were sitting on top of a picnic table by the creek just down from his grandparents’ home, feet on the seat, eyes, until Chace looked at him, on the rushing water.
He’d grown up healthy and strong. Not tall, none of his kin were tall, he was five eleven. But he had a lean, straight body, long legs, growing broad near-to a man’s shoulders and he was a good-looking kid, that mop of thick blond hair, those unusual light brown eyes.
He was popular at school. Ran track and cross country. Class president. Captain of the debate team. Editor of the school newspaper. National Honor Society.
It didn’t surprise Chace that he chose sports where he competed individually, on a team but his performance was based on his personal endeavors but still, he found other activities where he could be a leader and each one he found he was the leader.
What did surprise Chace was that he was popular regardless of his intellect, his continued voracious reading, the fact that he was quiet, not shy, not introverted, but an observer, soft spoken and he didn’t speak unless what he had to say meant something.
“Had a chat with Ezra,” Chace told him.
“I know,” Miah replied.
“Ezra said you’re ready.”
“That’s because I am.”
Chace pressed his lips together because he was uncertain he agreed and he looked back at the creek.
“Chace, I talked about it to the counselors a long time ago. To granddad. To you that time you and Faye were up here last year. I’m cool with it,” Miah assured him and Chace sucked in breath.
He looked back at him. “Yesterday was your graduation and your party. In a few months you’re off to Columbia. Don’t wanna bring up bad shit when all you got is good happening and the same to look forward to.”
“I want to do it,” Miah stated.
“Miah –”
“Chace,” he straightened but kept Chace’s eyes, “I want to do it. Show me.”
Chace sucked in another breath then turned to the folder sitting on the table beside him, flipped it open, pulled out the mug shot and handed it to Miah. Miah bent his head and studied it.
It was the mug shot of the man they suspected murdered Misty and Darren Newcomb.
“He screwed up,” Chace told him. “Got him in Oregon. He took an assignment, took to the woods again and some hunters, both ex-military, were up there. Heard them comin’, they were experienced, got quiet, watched, didn’t like the look of things and hunkered down. Saw it start to go down and they moved in. Incapacitated him. Saved his target. He’s free-lance, not connected to any organization and there’s the possibility that he’s responsible for at least a dozen hits in eight states including two in Carnal.”
“That’s him,” Miah said firmly and handed the mug shot back to Chace.
Chace’s gut got tight.
Shit, this was it. This was finally fucking it.
“You’re sure?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Miah answered.
“Was a long time ago, bud,” Chace reminded him, turning to return the photo to the folder and when he turned back, Miah again locked eyes with him.
“You don’t forget that kind of thing. You know it. I told you about it. All of it. That’s him and I’ll testify.”
Years ago, Miah’s grandparents had been informed that Miah was holding onto this knowledge and thus they’d informed his counselors. So years ago, his therapists helped him deal with what he saw which was not only Misty’s face getting raped but her subsequent murder. Jeremiah had seen the whole thing.
“I’ll testify,” Miah repeated when Chace didn’t speak.
“That’ll be tough,” Chace replied. “You were young, in a serious situation, if he’s extradited to Colorado to stand trial, the defense attorney will go hard.”
“A kid, no matter what he’s going through, can’t make that stuff up,” Miah returned.
“This is true,” Chace muttered. “But I don’t like that for you, that bein’ part of your future, the possibility of testifying.”
“A wrong has been done,” Miah whispered, his gaze unwavering on Chace. “When that happens you set about making it right. You taught me that.”
Chace closed his eyes and dropped his head.
“I can do it.” Miah was still whispering. “I want to do it.”
Chace opened his eyes and looked at the creek. “I hate this for you.”
“I don’t,” Miah replied. “She was your wife. If I can do that, make him pay, then I can do something for you. So I want to do it.”
Serious as shit, this kid was a good fucking kid.
Chace lifted his hand, wrapped it around the back of Miah’s neck and gave him a squeeze while finding his eyes.
“You’re a good kid,” he whispered and Miah grinned.