Wholehearted (24 page)

“Probably April, but they haven’t told me much yet. Just that they would be here at nine.”

“All right. You wanna sit in on the meeting?”

“Only if you want me to. If not, I’ve got some other issues that have popped up in the last couple of days that need my attention.”

“Oh,” Declan said, a little surprised that anything had come up at all, let alone a couple of issues. The guilt hit him for not being there when Mack needed him. “Anything I can help with?”

“No. It’s a personal issue actually.”

Declan paled, his mind immediately going to Lucas. Mack had helped him to get out of Hope Cove. He calmed himself, reasoning that at this point, Lucas wouldn’t count as being a personal issue, no matter how off-the-books his movements were.

“Okay. Even though I’ve been acting like an ass, I’m still here for you if you need anything.
Anything,
Mack,” he said.

“Thanks, Dec. Obviously the same goes for you. You’re going through some shit, and I know you feel like someone shot your puppy right about now. I also know you likely don’t want to talk about it, but if that changes, I’m here.”

Declan nodded curtly and stood, walking out of Mack’s office and closing the door behind him. Scott wasn’t in yet, so other than the tapping of Lisa typing in daily reports, the office was quiet.

His desk was just how he had left it, papers stacked neatly in the tray. At the top of the pile was Lucas’s case file, marked neatly with his name in blue. Just looking at his name made Declan’s stomach dip. He fortified himself and pulled the file from the pile, wanting everything to be fresh in his mind when the lawyers showed up.

He opened the manila folder to the incident report where his scratchy handwriting had detailed every aspect of the crime scene. There it was—literally in black and white—Lucas’s and Declan’s nightmare.

D
ECLAN
HEARD
her before he saw her. April Reese greeted Lisa with a friendly smile as she and two interns walked across the police station toward Declan’s desk.

“Ms. Reese,” he said, standing to offer his hand to shake.

“Hello, Officer Grant, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, her eyes softening as she shook his hand. Her grip was firm, but warm.

“The pleasure is mine. Would you like to follow me? We’ll get set up somewhere a little more comfortable for all of us.”

“Lead the way, officer,” she replied, gesturing for the two young men to follow.

Declan led them to the interrogation room, which was really just one of the large offices that held a long wooden table. They also used it for meetings, as it was the largest and most comfortable space they had.

The overhead fluorescent lights seemed harsher than the last time Declan had been in this room. Declan and the attorneys took seats around the table, scooting their chairs closer. A shuffle of papers, and they were set to begin.

“I understand you’ve been off for the last few days. Has the sheriff filled you in on events since the arrests were made?”

“We didn’t have a chance to go over it all this morning, but I’ve dealt with cases like these before. I’m guessing they all pled not guilty.”

“You would be right on that. The police in Bangor were able to locate Mr. Lancaster. Seven arrests were made in total, and arraignments held. All seven entered a plea of not guilty for the assault of Mr. Hale. David Grieve is representing all seven defendants.”

“Have they set a date for the preliminary hearing?”

“They have. We are due in court a week from tomorrow. Peter Corddry and Victor Matvey have posted bail, but the other five are staying in the deluxe accommodations of the state facilities until the hearing.”

Oh God. Lucas was out there and two of his attackers were out there too. Declan wanted to scream. The system he worked to uphold didn’t always protect the people who needed protecting. He feared Lucas would be one of those people.

Declan faked calm as best he could for the moment, the panic surging through him at the thought of Lucas in danger. Going off like a bottle rocket wouldn’t help his chances of staying on the case, though. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, hoping Reese wouldn’t notice.

She forged on ahead, detailing the ins and outs of the case for him, seemingly unaware he was losing his mind.

“Well, I will help you in any way I can. I’d like to see them all behind bars forever,” Declan said with sincerity. He’d never wanted anyone else convicted quite as badly.

“So would I, but you know as well as I do that with instances like this, more often than not, the perps are let free on time served with a slap on the wrist.”

Declan nodded, sure that his face was giving everything away.

“We’ll do our best to make sure that’s not the case this time, but their lawyer has contacted our offices with hopes of a plea bargain. It may be the best course of action to plead some of the class Ds out on lesser charges in exchange for testimony against Matvey and Corddry.”

Declan frowned, his eyebrows knit together. He didn’t like hearing that some of the men who had beaten Lucas to the edge of death were going to get away with it. That was their best option to nail the man who had led the others in the attack: the man who had plunged the knife into Lucas’s stomach.

Reese continued. “We’re here today to determine whether or not we will offer one, and if we do, what the terms will be. Your offices sent over copies of all the reports, but I am a little more thorough than most DAs I know. I like to meet with the arresting officers and any other law enforcement that were involved on the day of the crime. It gives me a better sense of what we’re working with and what I can expect if we do go to trial.”

Declan nodded again. “Understood. Let me know if I can be of help in any way.”

Reese shuffled through the file with practiced efficiency, pulling out various forms and sheets and organizing them in the order she preferred. She handed a few of them to the interns, pointing out several sections and explaining what she was looking for.

The interns were listening intently. Declan smiled for the first time in what felt like months. Rookies were the same anywhere, he supposed; a police force or law office, green was green. He took that opportunity to excuse himself, wanting to talk to Mack.

Declan walked into Mack’s office, Mack signaling him to take a seat. He was on the phone, speaking heatedly to someone about parental rights waivers, and scrubbed his hand over his face. It wasn’t often that the Hope Cove police department became involved in child services cases, but it did happen occasionally. Those cases were tough to deal with. Declan couldn’t blame Mack for being a bit stressed.

He waited as patiently as possible for Mack to end the conversation, but felt a bit like he was ready to jump out of his skin. He needed to know where Lucas was, or at least whether he was safe.

Finally, Mack hung up the phone and let out a deep breath.

“What can I do for you, Dec?”

Mack was obviously not in the mood to be bothered. Declan shrank back a little, the desperate fear tamped down by Mack’s obvious annoyance. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to confront him about where Lucas was staying. He decided to take a different approach.

“I’m sorry to bug you again, Mack, but I need to know…. I just need to know that he’s safe. Reese just told me that Matvey and Corddry are out on bail, and I am freaking out just a little.”

“I know, Declan, but do you honestly think I would let Lucas go somewhere I didn’t think was safe?”

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s fine, Declan. He’s fine. I talked to him this morning.”

“What? You talked—”

“Yes, and he’s fine,” Mack interrupted him again.

“Did he—”

“No. Did you expect him to ask about you?”

Okay, that was a little harsh. Mack was definitely not in a good mood. Declan decided to cut his losses and end the conversation there. He wasn’t going to make any progress with finding out where Lucas was, especially if Mack was in a shitty mood.

“I guess not. If you say he’s safe, I believe you.”

“Good. Now go and do your job. Make sure Matvey doesn’t get off on the charges and we can all sleep a little better.”

“Yes, sir.”

Declan turned and left the office, rejoining Reese and the interns to parse the case into each tiny detail. They could not overlook anything. Even the simplest detail could mean something significant to the case against Matvey.

They spent the rest of the day poring over the case files, dissecting each one. By the time the sun had set, Declan was exhausted, but he felt more hopeful than he had all week about the outcome of the trial. The seeds of acceptance were beginning to crack open behind his sternum, which fortified the feeling that he had inadvertently done the right thing.

Lucas might be angry with him, and yes, he hadn’t gone about it the right way, but the report had to be filed. Matvey belonged behind bars. He deserved what he had coming, and if Declan’s betrayal stopped Lucas or someone else from getting hurt, it was worth the pain he was feeling now.

T
HE
WEATHER
was beginning to turn, and the promise of snow hung in the air. Declan rubbed his eyes, willing the computer screen to come back into focus. The desk lamp and computer screen were the only sources of light in the building, but the lights outside the station had come on hours ago, illuminating the street in a pale yellow glow. The inside of the station was quiet, save the whirring of the computer fan beneath Declan’s desk.

Everyone had gone home, and he was alone in the office. He flipped through the file again, looking at the photos of the crime scene one last time, willing there to be some detail he had overlooked, some shred of evidence that placed Victor and the others at the scene. If Lucas was subpoenaed, his testimony would be powerful, but it was not an open-and-closed case at this point. They needed something more.

Declan stared at the photographs unnecessarily. He had spent so long looking at them, the images had become embedded in his memory. He could not have erased them if he wanted to.

There was a scraping sound of metal against metal before the front door burst open, a draft of frigid air bursting through as Scott entered the precinct.

“You’re still here? Man, do you ever sleep?” he remarked.

Declan looked up from his computer screen, barely registering that someone was talking to him.

“Huh?” he asked, his eyes dry and slow to focus.

“I asked if you ever slept, but I got my answer. You need to go home, dude. You’re looking reasonably haggard. Is there anyone that can cover for you today?” he asked as he walked to the back wall to check the schedule that Mack posted to the bulletin board every two weeks. “You’re not even scheduled to be in today! Seriously, dude. Go home.”

Declan leaned back in his chair, blinking his eyes a few times to clear the glaze that had developed over them from too many hours staring at a backlit screen. Scott was probably right. He should go home.

He’d managed to spend as little time as possible in his place over the last month, and it felt like it had done him some good. It was easier to focus on Lucas and the case if he was at work rather than at home, where all he could think about was how much he missed him. He spent all his time trying to detect some wisp of remaining scent on his pillows or trying to avoid remembering the way Lucas felt beneath him when he pressed him into the sofa cushions.

No, he couldn’t go home, but he should probably take a break from being at the station. He didn’t want to risk Mack pulling him from the case.

“Okay, I’m heading out. Will you call me if Reese calls?”

“Sure, man.”

“Thanks,” he said, grabbing his coat from the back of his chair and pulling it on. The skies had been dark since Lucas had left, or at least it felt that way to Declan.

He walked out of the station, looking left and then right, weighing his options. The diner was warm and close by. Debbie had had her baby, so there was a temporary waitress who had been called in to cover. She didn’t know his order or how he liked his coffee.

Declan wasn’t all that picky, but he didn’t much feel like interacting with anyone more than he had to. That only left him with one place he would want to be.

Maggie’s.

He crossed his fingers, hoping Oliver was working. Haydn would talk his ear off, but Oliver would let him sit in peace with a cup of coffee and one of their insanely delicious cinnamon buns. The combination of the caffeine and the sugar was deadly, but just what he needed.

Declan crossed the square, bleary eyes focusing on the dark-blue awning. By the time he reached the front door, he was shivering inside his coat. His fingers were frozen, and his teeth were chattering. He pulled open the door and stepped into the warmth of the bakery. The smell of bread and herbs surrounded him, filling him with feelings of warmth and calm.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

So, Oliver wasn’t working today. “Hey, Haydn.”

“What is wrong with this town? Between you and Oliver, you won’t be winning any fucking beauty contests. Jesus fuck, Declan. You look like dogshit roadkill.”