Chapter 160 - The Indirect Interrogation

Lance. 

I end the call with Ford and all the heaviness that I tried to put away, comes crawling back out. I feel like shit. I can't even think about it right now because I have to help Jack and Patrick. This should take a couple of hours at most and then I can focus on Ford.

"Are you okay?'' Jack asks once I settle inside his car.

I nod "I just need all this to fucking end.''

"I hear ya. This is ridiculous." He mutters and I nod my head in agreement. A lot has happened in such a short time.

"It will all be over soon." I try to assure him even though I am not really sure about that. I just need to make sure Patrick is okay so I can focus on Ford and getting him out. That is my main priority for now.

We get to the location. It is a café. I didn't want somewhere private because I need to have people around in case she ends up being insane. Once jack parks his car, I turn to look at him "You have to stay here. She knows you so it might seem suspicious,'' I tell him. If she even thinks we are working together, she will know there is something up. I want this to be as lowkey as possible. I want her to think I am trying to solve the mystery—well I actually am but I need it to seem like I have no ulterior motive.

"Alright,'' he settles as I get down from the car. Breens café is far from the apartment. I don't even want to link this back to Patrick for any reason. We usually pass this café when going to school, it is always empty and secluded, so it comes as no surprise when I walk in and there is only a couple here. It is still early in the morning, so I didn't really think there would be a crowd. This is good enough for me. in the corner of my eye, I see a woman seated on a table for two. Her head is down, almost like she is deep in thought. She is old—maybe she looks older than she really is. She is supposed to be in her forties but she looks sixty. Life must have dealt with her.

I mean, it shows. You treat your kid like shit, what else do you expect. She looks up, just as I walk up to her. her eyes flicker from me to the door. She is probably thinking of an escape route. A way she will be able to run out if things go south. I don't want things to go south but if they do, I plan to be on the right side.

I stop in front of her table and manage a faint smile. I don't want to seem too eager about this meeting. I want her to think I don't really want to be here.

I mean, I don't want to be here but I have no choice. I have to be here; I have to help my friends. "Candice,'' I call her name calmly.

She nods immediately. I look at her table and there is a cup of coffee in front of her. "They wouldn't let me stay without ordering something.'' She informs me, even though I didn't ask her.

"Okay, do I need to order something?''

She shakes her head. "Just get to the point. What did my son tell you and how did you get my number?''

She doesn't beat around the bush. I look around. No one seems to be paying attention to out conversation. My phone is already on record, in case she says anything incriminating. I want to have the evidence that I will need to exonerate Patrick.

"We met at a club; he was really drunk. So, he went home with me.'' I take a deep breath because even with this, I will have to mention the fact that Patrick seems to think he killed his father.

"Go on,'' she urges me.

I sigh "He told me about his childhood. How he was abused. How you and your husband hurt him all those years.''

I see the guilt on her face. She is trying to hide it, that much I can tell but it is too obvious. There is no denying that Patrick was sincere in his story. He suffered a trauma that will always be with him. There are literal scars on him that will remind him of the torture, the pain these people caused him, but I need him to let it go. I need him to move on and find a happy future and he can't do that with this woman still bothering him and torturing him with the reminders. He needs to eradicate them from his life completely. Maybe with this plan, she will leave him for good.

"I never abused him. Not once,'' she interjects, even though this is not about blame. I am not here to accuse her of abusing him. I just need to know what happened to his father. I need to know if he actually died that night.

"I didn't say you did. He said you saw it all, you made him feel worthless with your words. he said you hurt him the most because you didn't do anything."

Okay, maybe I am exaggerating. Adding a little spice to the story. He didn't tell me anything. I am like a messenger to the story but I know how he feels. For years, I watched Jack suffer in silence. I didn't do anything, I couldn't protect him from his father, so I know how this feels. I know what it is like to watch someone being abused.

"I couldn't do anything. I was powerless,'' she cries.

I haven't even said anything and she is already getting worked up "It is too late to go over the past. He said you have been asking for your husband. I know what happened to your husband.'' I breathe out the biggest part of this plan. '

Her eyes open wide "What happened to him?'' she asks. From the way she is acting, it already feels like she knows. She is hiding something. That is the only reason why she is entertaining me.

She has to seem concerned.

"He is dead,'' I tell her blatantly.

I mean, she already knew this. there is no way she doesn't know this. I already know what happened that night. Even though she hasn't given anything away.

"That is not possible, he can't be dead.'' She stands up from the chair. I can sense her trying to escape this conversation.

"That is the only thing that makes sense. It has been a year. Where could he possibly be?'' I ask her.

"I don't know. That is why I am here, that is why I have been looking for him all this while.'' She tells me.

Makes no sense to me.

"Why haven't you called the cops. That is the best thing to do. If Patrick killed his father. He needs to pay for his crimes. We can't cover it up.'' I tell her like that is what I really want.

She sits back down on the couch. Shaking her head incessantly. She doesn't want to involve the cops.

She has something to do with this.

"We can't call the cops. He is still my son.''

Oh, she is going for the caring mother. All those years that she maltreated him and now she wants to act like she gives a shit.

"He is a murderer. He confessed a crime to me. I have to report it.''

God, I deserve an award for my acting. I almost believe myself right now. there is no way, she doesn't believe me.

"You can't call the cops,'' she glares at me angrily.

I look away from her and see the barista at the counter. I am not alone here, a good idea to have brought here to a public place.

"I have to unless something else happened that night. I mean, you did go home after he left. There should be a body. Didn't you find a body?''

Her eyes open wide in shock at my words "There was no body,'' I look at her hands. They are shaking. She is terrified. I have never seen a sloppier liar than this woman in front of me. all those months. She should have left her son. After the whole thing, she should have left him alone but she kept looking for him. Extorting him off his money, even though the secret involved the two of them.

"I think there was. I think YOU found him…Alive. And you didn't save him. You didn't take him to the hospital. I think you were the one that killed him—or should I say, you were the one that let him die. You killed your husband Candice.''

From the look on her face. I can bet my theory is right.

Patrick didn't kill his father. He might have hurt him badly but he was alive when he left. I am so sure of that.