Ridley Pearson - In Harm's Way

“But I saw you with the bat,” Kira blurted out, as if forgetting about Arian. “I saw you hit him.”

“Me?”

“On the head. From the back.”

“Me?” Fiona gasped dryly for a second time.

“In front of your place. The two of you.”

“But… you saw me?”

“What was I supposed to do? I didn’t want you to know I’d seen. I didn’t want anyone to know. The car took off. The guy’s car. It wasn’t him driving, that was for sure. Not after that. I got in the truck and left. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Me?” Fiona repeated. “You saw me?”

Kira was crying. She lowered her head.

Fiona came around the coffee table and sat down next to her and held her. Kira sobbed. “I didn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Fiona fought back her own tears. “But I thought you’d done it.”

“Me?!” Kira leaned back and explored Fiona’s face. “Seriously?”

“And Walt… He thinks we did it together. That we’re covering for each other.”

Kira burst out laughing, tears still falling. “He what?”

“I know.”

“Seriously?”

Fiona nodded.

“What do we do?” Kira asked. Then she looked to her attorney.

“There’s evidence,” Peter Arian said. “From what I’m hearing from you, I’m assuming it’s the baseball bat. That could be damaging. The sheriff wouldn’t give me that, so we’re better off now that I know. And they haven’t charged you. Either of you. I’m assuming the prosecuting attorney called off the sheriff, and for good reason: he didn’t like the evidence. Or, it could be that they’re awaiting more lab results, or witnesses. Or it could be your standing in the community. You’re something of a celebrity,” he said to Kira. “They may simply be waiting for it all to come together. That’s important for us to consider. What’s equally important is that both of you lay out exactly what you remember. That you write it down exactly as you remember it. I will be the only one in possession of those documents. If charges are filed, I can apply for access to the evidence. If the sheriff is building a case against the two of you, that’s more complicated and will take more time. At some point he’ll attempt to get one of you to turn on the other. It’s a pretty straightforward approach. I will need to be there for those interviews.”

“It wasn’t me outside the cottage,” Fiona said. “I’m willing to bet I was inside, lying on the floor unconscious, although I don’t know that for sure.”

“That’s a big bet,” Arian said. “I’m not sure that’s a bet you want to make.”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” Kira said. “I saw it. I didn’t do it.”

“No other cars?” Arian asked Kira.

“Not that I saw. And I didn’t hear the gate beep.”

“They can make a case that it was one or the other of you, or that, as you say the sheriff is thinking, that it was both of you, and you’re covering for each other.”

“But it’s not true,” Kira said.

Arian’s face sagged. “This is the law we’re talking about. Truth is only one small part of the equation.” He waited a moment for this to sink in. “Your parents have asked you to stay with them?”

Kira nodded. They’d discussed this earlier on the drive up. “But I don’t want to.”

Fiona spoke up. “Kira, you should do it. Maybe this is the chance you’ve been waiting for.”

“I don’t want to see him.”

“What if your father’s changed?”

“He doesn’t change.”

“We all change,” Fiona said, “if others give us the chance to.”

Kira nodded faintly. “But only for tonight.”

“Don’t be too quick to judge,” Fiona advised.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’ve got stuff to work out,” Fiona said. “Stuff to write down. I’ll be all right.”

“I can drop you off,” Arian proposed.

“I’ll get my things,” Kira said, standing and reluctantly letting go of Fiona’s hand.

“What do you make of all this?” Fiona asked Arian when they were alone.

“Do you believe her?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“And how do you know you went over a stool? What if your injury occurred outside your cottage?”

“You think that didn’t occur to me?”

“Do you think it’s possible?”

“Did I hate him that much? Yes, I did. Could I do something like that? Never.”

“Never’s a big word.”

“Never,” Fiona repeated.

Arian dug out his wallet, and from it, a business card. “In case you need me.”

“I don’t.”

“But in case you do,” he said.

Fiona accepted the card.

A Disney Channel Original Movie played from the living room as Walt worked the computer at the dining-room table. Tied in to his office’s server, he was finishing up the report on the Fancelli arrest. He’d already been in touch with AUSA in Boise, who’d promised Walt the Wildlife Act charge would hold. Walt believed that with some backroom discussion he might get Fancelli the maximum sentence of a fine and a year in jail. Small payment for his real crime, but at least something.

The search of the Fancelli home had failed to turn up any suggestion of child molestation or abuse-no souvenirs, no videos-but the man’s arrest included a mandatory DNA swab-this had been the golden ring Walt had been reaching for-and he hoped within the week to use that sample to prove the paternity of his daughter’s unborn child. Fancelli would be going away for a lot longer than a year. As he wrapped up the report, he was feeling good for a change and thinking that this was one of the good nights.

“Hey, Dad,” Nikki called from the living room. It had to be a commercial break because typically they didn’t know he existed if a show was on.

“Yes?”

“I thought you were going to build us a tree fort.”

A family issue that arose every six months or so, Walt had resisted the idea of a tree fort because of the enormous work involved and the likelihood of it turning out to be only a passing interest. He realized, more important, that this was gender bias on his part. He thought of tree forts as a boys’ realm, and was convinced his daughters would quickly lose interest, a conviction he now questioned.

“You’re right,” he answered. “I think I forgot all about it.”

“Can we build one?”

Now Emily was sitting up and looking at him excitedly as well. “With curtains and a bucket to bring stuff up?” she said.

He wondered if a tree house was part of the show they were watching. They were easily influenced.

“Curtains? Why not?” he said.

“When?” Emily shouted far too loudly.

“How soon?” Nikki added.

The questions hit him as a fist in the chest. Everything came down to time. It was the one commodity that fell short and left him feeling cheated, as well as the one doing the cheating. Never mind that he had no time for himself; he gave his daughters short shrift and even his job occasionally suffered. He considered himself an excellent time manager, and yet how was he supposed to find the four hours to erect a tree house with his daughters? And if he couldn’t find four hours to be with his kids, what did that say about him?

“This weekend,” he answered.

“Seriously?” Nikki said, suddenly the spokesperson for the two.

This change caught her father’s attention. Of the two, Nikki had retreated far more deeply into herself following the divorce. Her elevation to spokesperson, and Emily’s willingness to allow it to happen, held profound significance for him.

“Seriously,” he answered. “This Saturday.”

To his surprise, the girls exploded off the floor, throwing their hands high in the air and dancing around, causing Walt to realize how much he missed the obvious. Their excitement had little or nothing to do with a tree house.