Gun Games (31 page)

Kyle said, “I mean, I know it’s not going to go away unless you make it go away.”

Still no comment.

His eyes on Decker. “Look, sir, I will do
anything
you want. I’ll answer any questions you want. I will tell you everything, and I mean
everything,
as long as you keep me out of this. I mean, I know I might have to be a witness or something because I was there. But I swear to God, I didn’t do anything. I mean, yes, I borrowed the gun from my father and gave it to Dylan, but I had nothing to do with this morning. Nothing whatsoever. When I showed up, it was already a fait accompli.”

When the kid stopped talking, Decker turned to Oliver. “Have you read Mr. Kerkin his rights?”

Oliver said, “I did. I have the signature card.”

Decker said, “We’re open to hear anything you want to tell us.”

“Like I told you, Kyle,” Oliver said, “this is your one chance to give us your side of the story.”

“Look.” Kyle moved forward. “I watch
The
First 48.
I know the drill. You want a confession. I’m not here to make a confession. I didn’t do anything. But, yes, I was there. That much I’ll say because there’s no sense denying the obvious. I know I’m in deep shit. What I’m telling you is I’ll do anything you want. I’ll say anything you want. I just want
out.
”

Oliver said, “Why don’t you start at the beginning. What happened this morning?”

“I gotta get some kind of guarantee first. I got into Wharton.” His eyes watered up. “I’m not going to let some fucking asshole ruin my life.”

Too little, too late.
Decker said, “Who’s the fucking asshole?”

Kyle was gnashing his teeth, his jaw working overtime. “Dylan Lashay. He’s a real psychopath, and I don’t use the term lightly.” A pause. “I guess you’re wondering why I hang with him.”

“I’m a little curious,” Oliver said.

Kyle made a swipe at his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “What a fucking mess! I was hoping it wouldn’t come out until I was out of the house.” His eyes wavered between Decker and Oliver. He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m gay.”

Decker nodded. “Your parents don’t know.”

“No, they do
not
know. My older sister died ten years ago in a car crash. I’m an only child.” He looked up at the ceiling. “It’s like all their hopes and dreams . . . have been put on my shoulders. It’s bad enough they won’t get anything like kids outta me. If I go to jail, my mother’s going to commit suicide. She’s not a stable woman.”

“You still haven’t answered why you hang with Dylan,” Oliver said.

Kyle looked down. “We had a thing going for a while in eleventh grade. He filmed it. We both thought it was funny, you know.” He hit his head. “God, I was an idiot!”

More silence. Kyle continued to gnash his teeth. Decker could hear the enamel against enamel—like fingers on a chalkboard.

The teen said, “When he threatened to expose me, I asked him what he wanted. He said guns.” He looked up. “My father’s a huge weapons collector. I gave him a gun—a single gun. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t want to be outted.”

Oliver nodded. “Obviously Dylan wasn’t afraid of being exposed.”

“I dunno,” Kyle said. “I never called his bluff. We both fuck girls, so . . . I dunno if he likes girls or if he swings both ways or if he just uses his cock as a weapon. Frankly, I wasn’t looking to analyze him. I was trying to protect myself. So I capitulated with the one gun and told him if he got greedy that I could make him just as miserable as he could make me.”

“How’s that?” Oliver asked.

“I’ve been part of the Maf— . . . his gang for a while. I know things.” Decker nodded encouragement. “So we had this . . . tacit understanding.” Furtive eyes. “Everyone just assumed we were close buds and that was okay. Dylan’s a BMOC. At B and W, he was a good person to be associated with.” Pleading eyes. “Are you going to help me?”

Oliver said, “So just like that, you and Dylan broke it off?”

Kyle whispered. “To the world, we kinda had a bromance thing going on, but it wasn’t sexual anymore.” An evasive glance. “After I gave him the gun, it was over.”

Decker’s brain suddenly started sparking. “Nah, I don’t believe you.”

Kyle became defensive. “I swear it’s true.”

Decker said, “When you and Dylan had your affair, he turned over a rock, Kyle. Once a guy is sexually active, it’s impossible to go back.”

“You’re wrong,” Kyle said. “It was
over
.”

“Over between Dylan and you, but not over with the sex. You found someone to take Dylan’s place.”

Kyle turned away and didn’t answer, the leg bouncing up and down. Decker mouthed Gregory Hesse to Oliver when the boy wasn’t looking.

Scott raised an eyebrow, regarding the Loo with admiration. He kept his voice even. “You know we’re pulling search warrants, Kyle. How long do you think it will take before we find Gregory Hesse’s stolen computer or his missing camcorder?”

The teen turned ashen. He threw back his head and moaned. “It was an
accident.
”

Oliver put his hand on Kyle’s knee. “Accidents happen. Tell us about it.”

“I don’t know, man.” Kyle had tears in his eyes. “We were like . . . stoned.”

“Tell us what you remember. We’re here to listen, not to judge.”

“He told us the gun was empty,” Kyle pleaded. “It wasn’t
supposed
to happen.”

“Yeah, that’s a raw deal when accidents happen, man. We all know that.” Oliver leaned in closer. “Who told you the gun was empty?”

“
Dylan!
” The boy shouted out. “He was filming it on Greg’s camcorder.” Water poured from his eyes. “We were just fooling around. You’ve got to believe me.”

“I believe you, man,” Oliver said. “I totally believe you.”

“It wasn’t supposed to
happen.
When the gun went off, I was shocked . . . I was . . . petrified. It was horrible!”

“I’m sure it was,” Oliver said.

Kyle’s wet eyes went from Oliver to Decker. “Do you know what Dylan did when it happened?”

“What did he do?” Decker said.

“He laughed!” Kyle shook his head. “Brains and shit . . . all over the fucking place and Dylan . . . just . . . fucking . . .
laughed
!”

Chapter Thirty-three

W
hen Marge walked into the hospital room, Gabe was asleep, a book lying on his lap, spine down and opened. Rina was reading in the chair next to his bed. She gave Marge a small wave. “He’s knocked out.”

“Sedated?”

“No, just sleeping from pure exhaustion.”

“I hate to do this to him.” Marge held up two photo arrays. “You know how it is. Time matters.”

Rina nodded and gently shook his shoulder. Gabe stirred, inhaled, and then winced.

“I’m up, I’m up.” He opened his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to wake you, sweetheart.” Rina gave Marge her chair. “This is Sergeant Dunn.”

“Hi.” He sat up, then grimaced. “I think we’ve met.”

“Probably at Sammy’s wedding.”

“Yeah, I was there . . . me and five hundred others.”

“We invited everyone to my son’s wedding,” Rina said. “It doesn’t pay to make enemies.”

“If you ever need enemies, I could loan you a few.” Gabe turned to Marge. “What’s up?”

“I’d like to show you a couple of photo arrays.” She handed him the first one with Dylan Lashay. “See if anyone looks famili—”

“This one.” Pointing to number four. “This is Dylan.”

“You’re sure?”

“The dude shot me. Couldn’t be more positive.”

“Can you circle your choice and sign your name?”

“I can do that.” When he was done, he gave her back the sheet of paper. “Next?” When Marge handed him the girls, Gabe said, “This is Cameron.” He took the pen, circled her picture, and signed it. “What else?”

All business. “If you’re up to talking about it, I’d like to hear what happened.”

“Can I call Yasmine again?” Gabe said out of nowhere.

“She’s talking to detectives, Gabe.”

“Is her mom with her?”

“Yes.”

“Does she hate me . . . her mother?”

Rina said, “Of course she doesn’t
hate
you. You saved her daughter’s life.”

Marge said, “Actually, she expressed concern for your welfare.”

“So maybe on balance, it’s good I got shot. I got the pity factor working for me.”

Rina said, “You don’t need the pity factor to be appreciated. I think Sergeant Dunn needs to ask you some questions.”

“Are you up to talking about it?” Marge asked.

“Sure,” he said. “Something to distract my mind before I go under the knife. Or the laser.” He looked at Rina. “Did they find the surgeon yet?”

“They did. He’s coming in . . .” She looked at her watch. “In forty minutes.” She stood up. “I’m going to catch a breath of fresh air. Do you need anything?”

“I can’t friggin’ eat until I go into surgery, so I guess the answer is no.” His face became angry. “I hurt and I’m starving. This sucks.”

“Yes, it does.”

“You know, Rina, do you have enough time to get me my glasses? My eyes are killing me.”

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks.” A pause. “And you’re going to be here when the surgeon comes in?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks for staying with me. I mean, I’m not really your responsibility.”

“Gabriel, you most certainly are my responsibility.” She kissed his greasy hair. “And I love having you as my responsibility. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Can you adopt me?” Gabe said.

“I would be happy to adopt you, but your parents wouldn’t approve.”

“I don’t see either of them here to object.”

“Your father will be here soon.”

“Yeah, when he gets a moment,” Gabe said. “But hey, I’m not bitter.”

Rina kissed his head again. “I’ll get you your glasses.”

“Thanks. And my acne medication?”

“Sure.”

“Did you call Nick?”

“Yes, I called Nick. He wanted to come down right away, but I told him to hold off until after the surgery.”

“What’d he say?”

“That he was horrified.”

“How about Jeff Robinson?”

“I didn’t speak to him. I’m sure he’s horrified as well.” Rina gave a wave at the door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

Gabe turned to Marge. “What do you want to know?”

Marge took out her notepad. “I wonder if I can set up a tape recorder inside a hospital . . . whether it’ll interfere with anything.”

“Fine with me.”

“Yeah, I suppose if someone has a cow, I can always turn it off.” She set up the machine on a tray next to the bed. “So why don’t you start from the beginning.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Good. Be as detailed as you can.”

Gabe wiped his hands on his hospital gown. “Like how far back should I take it? Like when I first met Dylan?”

“Yes, that’s good,” Marge said. “Tell me about the first time you met Dylan.”

“I only met him one other time until today. I was in Starbucks, minding my own business . . . I think I was reading. This posse of kids comes through the door and I kinda see them out of the corner of my eye.”

“When was this?”

“About four to five months ago.”

“Okay. Morning or afternoon or evening?”

“Like four in the afternoon.” Gabe bit his bottom lip. “I knew right away that they were messed up. They just had that look, like they were spoiling for something. Anyway, they come up to me and I know I’m about to be crowded. You know what crowding is?”

“Kind of.”

“It’s when a group just totally surrounds you . . . they don’t hurt you usually, but its purpose is to show you who’s in control.”

“Menacing,” Marge said.

“Exactly. So they surround me and then Dylan comes up to me and tells me that I’m sitting in his chair . . . like it’s his
makom hakavua
or something.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know . . . like his designated seat.” Gabe looked at her. “That’s what Rina calls Peter’s Barcalounger.”

“I don’t speak Hebrew.”

“Neither do I, but I’ve picked up a few things. Anyway, the guy wants my seat.”

Marge nodded. “And you’re at Starbucks?”

“Yeah. The place was empty! He’s playing mind games. Asshole. So he just tells me to move it, and I pretend not to hear him. So he tells me to move it again, and the second time around, he shows me that he’s packing.”

“He shows you a gun?”

“You betcha, as the lieutenant would say. Now I know that if I accede right away and I see this guy again, I’m screwed. I’m a target. But I’m not about to take him and his gang on. There were three guys.”

“So there were three of them?”

“And also two girls—a blonde, Cameron, and a brunette—same girls as this morning. Anyway, they’re not gonna do anything to me inside the place, but I know they’re gonna jump me the minute I walk outside if I don’t do something clever. So instead of backing off, I like pull open the dude’s jacket to take a better look at the gun. It was a Beretta 92FS.”

“You know guns, Gabriel?”

“I know some guns and I happened to know
that
gun. So I start giving him my opinion on the weapon he’s packing, and then we start talking guns. He’s still standing up and I’m still sitting in his chair, but in the end I get up and
offer
him my seat. But I’m doing it on
my
terms.”

“Okay.”

“So the dude invites me to sit down with him and his buddies. Not wanting to be antagonistic, I sit. That’s when I found out his name was Dylan. Then he starts asking me how do I know all about guns.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I told him the truth. I told him about my dad, and I told him I was living with a police lieutenant. I did it because both Chris and Peter are impressive dudes and I wanted to scare him a little.”

“Go on.”

“Then Dylan asks me if I want to hang with them. Like they’re so ‘cool.’ ” He rocked his open hands back and forth. “I say thanks but no thanks. And that was that. And I stopped going to that Starbucks because I didn’t want to run into any of them again. So I started going to the Coffee Bean near Rina’s school. That’s where I met Yasmine. She came up to me.”

Gabe looked up at the ceiling. His voice got soft.

“She had these tickets to the opera. She loves opera.” Gabe’s expression became pained. “She was supposed to go with her sister, but her sister crapped out on her. She offered them to me. I took one of them, but I could see she was disappointed. So I asked her if she wanted to come with me.” He smiled at Marge. “I think initially she just wanted a ride. But then I told her I didn’t drive, so we went by cab. It wasn’t even a date or anything. I was just doing her a favor.”

He stopped.

“It was a wonderful day.” His eyes got far away. “I mean Rina and Peter are like the nicest people in the world, but they have their own lives and that’s really good. I don’t need a second set of parents. But I do spend a lot of waking hours by myself.”

“It must be lonely.”

“It has its good points. I practice all the time. As a result, my skill set took a quantum leap. I’ve expanded my repertoire tenfold. I’m far better than I should be.”

“I’m glad something positive came out of it.”

“The only positive thing until Yasmine came along. It was just a weird confluence of things that drew me to her. My parents deserted me, and I didn’t have any real friends anymore. I certainly didn’t want to hang with those idiots in Starbucks. I guess I didn’t realize how
lonely
I was until she came into the picture.” He paused. “She’s such a cutie. Every time I see her, something inside of me just . . . melts.” He stopped talking, his eyes moist. “I’m rambling. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Marge waited a moment, and then went back to business. “So you’re at the table with Dylan and his friends at Starbucks.”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you his last name?”

“Nope. Just Dylan.”

“And then you talked to him about guns, and your dad and the lieutenant.”

“Exactly.”

“How’d you excuse yourself?”

“I just said, I gotta go home. Sometimes Rina worries if she doesn’t hear from me. It’s nice that someone cares enough to notice if I’m alive or dead.” His thoughts were far away. He snapped out of it. “I ran into the girl, Cameron, maybe a month or two later. I remember the day was Tuesday because it was the day that I auditioned for Jeff Robinson. He’s my agent. I could get you the exact date if you need it.”

“Yes, that would be helpful.”

“So it’s like six-thirtyish in the morning and I was waiting at the bus to go to SC. And this drop-dead gorgeous blonde comes up to me saying, ‘Chris, Chris . . .’ ” He looked at Marge. “I told Dylan that my name was Chris. It seemed convenient at the time.”

“Smart.”

He shrugged off the compliment. “So the girl says to me, like, ‘Do you know who I am?’ And I didn’t know except that she called me Chris. Then it came back to me. So I said, ‘Yeah, you were with Dylan.’ And we start talking. I’m like half asleep. And I don’t want to tell her anything about me, because I just have this weird feeling about her. So I ask her what she’s doing up so early, and she shows me that she just bought some pot.”

Marge nodded.

“So she says, ‘Come to my house and we’ll smoke it together.’ Then she tells me that her parents aren’t home. And she starts like . . . flirting with me . . . rubbing my
neck . . .
telling me I need to
relax
.

“She’s really good-looking, you know. In another world, it would have been a big turn-on. Instead, the girl gave me the willies. I ran with a fast crowd back in New York so I know the type perfectly. She’s a druggie and an easy lay, but also a mean girl. I’ve had enough of crazy people in my life. I wouldn’t have done her even if Yasmine wasn’t in the picture. But you don’t say something like that to a mean girl—especially one who hangs with a guy who likes guns.”

“I see your point.”

“Yeah, so I’m trying to get out of it without pissing her off. So I tell her I have a band audition, which for the most part was true. And then I make this big point of adding her phone number into my contact list in my cell so she won’t feel rejected and pissed off.”

“Do you have her number?”

“Nah, I erased it as soon as I got on the bus. I also gave her my number. But I mixed up the digits. She asked me for my last name and I told her Donatti because if she googled the name she could see for herself what a badass my dad is.”

“And she told you her name?”

“Cam . . . short for Cameron. I didn’t ask her last name.”

“Okay. Go on.”

“Nothing more to say. I forgot about her—until today.”