Page 81 of Malaise

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Page 81 of Malaise

TWENTY-FOUR

Tanya and Iare released from our restraints, free to go, after the cops are satisfied they got what they’re after—Carver. We follow the patrol car down to the station in the Falcon and wait for three and a half hours to find out what’s going on behind closed doors. Carver’s charged with burglary, and assault on an officer, which means he’ll be remanded in custody until his preliminary hearing. The female officer who informs us stands with her hands clasped before her hips as she breaks it down at Tanya’s request.

“Brett will be put before a judge tomorrow, and he or she will be the one to decide if bail is to be granted awaiting trial.”

“As if that’ll happen,” Tanya mutters under her breath.

I look up to the lady with the immaculate blonde bun and ask, “What’s the likelihood?” She grimaces, appearing to think it over. I quickly add, “In your opinion?”

“I really can’t say. It’ll be up to the judge who presides over his hearing.”

Tanya takes my hand in hers. “Given his priors, Meg, it won’t be likely.”

The officer takes her leave and disappears back through the coded door to the heart of the station.

I stand at Tanya’s request and stare at the sterile cream doors, aching so bad at the fact Carver is just there and yet I can’t see him. All I want to do is be there, sit beside him and let him know he’s not alone in this. Let him know I won’t walk away at the first hurdle.

“So what now?”

Tanya wraps an arm over my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. “We head back to the pits of hell to let the old man know what’s happened.”

“Really?” I squeak out. “What the hell for? What will he do?”

She shrugs. “He’ll find out sooner or later, so we may as well get on the good side by telling him first.”

True. My head hurts from all the outcomes I’ve run through while we’ve been waiting. How are we going to prove his innocence? There’s only one way I can think of.

“Your dad has to come tell them Brett was with him that day.”

“What?” Tanya drops her arm from my shoulders and turns to face me. “When?”

“The day this was supposed to happen, Thursday.”

“Is that what he said?” She ducks her head, staring out at me from under her brow.

An unease I’m not all that happy with swirls like an ominous eddy in my gut. “He said he went to talk to your dad while I was at work that first night at the motel.”

“Meg, he never came home after he snuck you out. I met him while you were doing your shift on Wednesday, but prior to that he wasn’t returning my calls.”

“No.” I shake my head, feeling every part the fool. “Why would he lie to me?” Again?

She looks around us, as though to check we haven’t been overheard. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? We’ll go get a late-night apple pie from McDonald’s and find somewhere to talk about this.”

“Did he lie to me, Tanya?” Truth—always the truth.

She places a hand on my shoulder and guides me from the station. “Not here, okay?”

I don’t utter another word to her the whole way to the drive-through, or even as she pulls into a park at the reserve. The crinkle of paper as she pulls our apple pies out is insanely loud in the otherwise quiet car.

“Eat.” She offers me one, waggling it at me the same as Carver did that first night at the bonfire.

Appetite, lost. “He’s done for, isn’t he?” I ask, arms folded.

She opens the cardboard pocket and blows on the hot contents. “More or less.”

“Do you think he did it?”

She sighs, waving the hot pie back and forth through the air, her focus squarely on it. “I’m undecided.”




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