And how had Emile known he was at the hospital?
Keep it together, he told himself. Don’t lose your shit before he even says anything. That’s how criminals get caught.
Tyler had been caught enough. He should know. He left the room and let the door shut quietly behind him, as if a sound would wake Mattie.
Emile put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder. He was a small man, but he had presence—at just five foot five, he seemed to stand six feet tall. His dark eyes held a deep intelligence that bordered on intimidating. “Come with me, Tyler. We need to find someplace to talk.”
Tyler ignored the odd feeling in his stomach and followed his parole officer to a waiting room that was empty except for an old man in a brown cardigan, asleep in a chair. A line of glistening drool leaked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Sit,” Emile said, motioning at a chair. He took the one across from Tyler, and steepled his fingers. “Look, man. I hope you don’t mind that I’m bothering you. I know your friend is hurt, but your mom told me you were here, and we really, really need to talk.”
Tyler leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, striving for casual. “Uh, okay. What about?”
Emile ran a hand through his messy hair. “I know you’re going through a lot. Hell, we both know you’re going through a lot. Can we agree on that?”
Tyler gave one curt nod. What was Emile talking about? Tyler’s heartbeat was loud in his ears. So loud, he wondered if Emile could hear it.
“You’re in a tough spot, dude. And believe me when I tell you—I already know what’s going on.”
“You do?” Tyler’s voice came out a little higher than usual.
Emile nodded. “Yeah. I figured it out. It wasn’t all that hard—I’ve been working with you for, what, three years now? It’s not that hard to pick up all the pieces and put them together.”
Tyler cocked his head. Was Emile just trying to get him to fess up to something? He’d never said anything like this before. Never did anything like this. He never showed that much trust. Or faith.
This was a different Emile. It scared Tyler a little bit.
“So what?” Tyler finally said.
Emile looked left and right, and leaned in. “I can help you, Tyler.”
“What do you mean?” Was Emile offering him a way out? Was a parole officer allowed to do that? Or was this some screwed-up new way to pin his ass to the wall?
Emile looked into his eyes. “Tyler. I already know what’s going on. I know you get blamed for a lot of stuff, and I know that not all of it is really your fault. Guys like you get a lot of crap dumped on your lap. Some of it you ask for, and some of it just happens. Just ask me for help—tell me everything that’s happening—and I can fix this.”
Something twinged in Tyler’s chest.
But no.
It couldn’t be this easy.
It couldn’t.
“You don’t know,” Tyler said. “I wish you did, but you don’t know.”
Emile laughed softly. “Tyler, I used to think that exact same thing when I was your age. But listen. I’m going to give you a little time to think about it, all right? But sooner or later—it’s going to come out. The easy way or the hard way.”
Tyler stood up. He wanted to get away from here. He had to get away from Emile.
He had to get this all figured out. And he had to do it now.
“I’ll give you two days,” Emile said, standing too. “Just remember, Tyler: I know everything. And I can help protect you.”
“I wish you could.”
Emile stuck his hand out, and Tyler shook it, feeling oddly like they’d just concluded some sort of business meeting.
“I’ll be hearing from you soon,” Emile said, and then he left Tyler alone in the waiting room with the old man, who had just woken up and was wiping his chin on his sleeve.
Tyler walked back to Mattie’s room. When he opened the door, Mattie was propped up, and his eyes were open.
“You guys?” he said. “I just talked to my parole officer.”
The room was silent.
Tyler took a deep breath. “I think he knows—I think he knows everything. And we need to figure out what we’re going to do.”
Tyler looked at Kinley.
She knew what the look meant.
And then he reached into his pocket and quietly pressed record.
Cade
Monday, June 29
“This changes nothing,” Cade said. Something was rocketing around in his head, some idea, and he couldn’t quite get ahold of it.
This was not happening. He had been smart. He had been careful.
This was their fault. If someone had screwed up, it wasn’t him.
Other than today. He hadn’t meant for today to happen.
Not like this.
“Hold on,” Ivy said, her palms up. “What exactly . . . what just happened? I need to know what happened.”