The Advocate's Daughter (12 page)

Sean said, “Thanks for ordering it and feeding him, Ryan.”

Ryan's eyes stayed fixed on the screen and his jaw clenched. Sean had been hard on him, and his son's remorse seemed to have shifted to anger.

Sean went upstairs to his bedroom, glancing at the bundle under the covers. There was a faint smell of vodka in the air again. If Emily didn't come out of this soon, he'd need to call someone. Maybe it was time for her parents to come stay. He could hear the usual commentary on how expensive yet small his house was, the terrible traffic, and the unfriendliness of the store clerks. He might explode if Emily's parents, as they did every visit, mentioned the dangers of living in a major city. That look from her mother:
We warned you …
Maybe it wasn't the right time for them to come.

In the bathroom he stared into the mirror, dabbing his eye lightly with his ring finger. His blood-spattered dress shirt remained draped over the bathtub from earlier in the afternoon. He thought about the teenage girl Chipotle Man had pushed against the wall, and imagined Abby dealing with the man. He thought of Chipotle Man ripping the gold chain from Abby's neck. She wouldn't have given it up voluntarily. The necklace and pendant were antiques. They'd been worn not only by Sean's mother (someone Abby had never met but was always fascinated with), but also by Abigail Adams, one of Abby's heroes.

Sean's fists were bound into hard balls. In a fog, part anguish, part anger, part utter irrationality, he made a decision he would later relive in agony over and over. Sean went back to the bedroom, searched Emily's jewelry box for a tiny key, and opened the lockbox he kept hidden in the back of the closet. Inside was a small black box that had the word
TAURUS
on the front of it. He removed the .357 Magnum. It was cold and heavy. He slid in the small safety key above the handle and unlocked the hammer so the revolver was fireable. He tucked it in his waistband and bolted out of the house.

 

CHAPTER 27

No one seemed to notice the black SUV idling across the street from the Chipotle. At 8:45 p.m. on a weeknight, traffic was surprisingly light by Bethesda standards, and Sean had a clear view through the restaurant's large front window. There were only a few customers. The place must be closing soon. He'd seen Chipotle Man get up and walk around the restaurant and speak with a group of kids, but for the last fifteen minutes all he could see was the top of the red ball cap peeking over a booth.

He felt the gun at the small of his back. He'd bought it years ago when the neighborhood was experiencing a rash of burglaries, but had never fired it. And he had no intention of firing it tonight. He just wanted to talk to Chipotle Man. To get some answers. He would try to catch him alone, but was prepared for another three-against-one situation. He assumed the mere sight of the weapon would scare off these small-time criminals and prevent another beating. There was, of course, the obvious question: Why not just call the police? He had no answer. Had he lost his shit? He was starting to think so. But for some reason he just didn't care.

The restaurant started to clear out. The two blond guys, the ones who had worked him over earlier that day, left, but Chipotle Man stayed behind. That was good. A few minutes later, Chipotle Man got up from his booth and did a complicated handshake with a black kid. He opened the glass door, lit a cigarette, and began walking down the street.

Sean waited until Chipotle Man morphed into the shadows before pulling the SUV from the curb. It took only a minute before the comical red outfit appeared in his headlights. Sean surveyed the path ahead. On the right, tall brick apartment buildings and dated commercial office space. On the left, the campus of Bethesda–Chevy Chase High School. A high school, a perfect place for a drug dealer to skulk around at night. Sean drove past Chipotle Man and turned into B-CC's campus. He parked in a secluded spot near the front of the main building. Sure enough, the skinny man in red made his way onto school grounds. Another burst of adrenaline flowed through Sean, heightening his senses. The man walked past the steps to the main entrance and veered down a path to the rear of the school.

Sean climbed out of the SUV. The school grounds were surprisingly empty. And dark. Any after-school activities were probably long over, and the building looked locked up tight. Sean trailed Chipotle Man down the path.
Turn around and go home,
the voice whispered in his head—but he continued to follow. At the end of the sidewalk, he crouched on his heels and peered around the corner. In the shadows, he could see three figures, one of them wearing a hat. There was a smell he hadn't encountered since college, and the glow from the tip of a joint.

He wasn't sure what to do next, so he decided just to watch. Hopefully, he'd catch Chipotle Man alone. It was a long ten minutes, and he felt creepy lurking at a high school. He saw an outline of someone on a mountain bike riding into the parking lot, but the biker disappeared into the gloom.

Finally, movement. Two of the figures were heading toward Sean. His eyes darted around. No place to hide. Two teenagers nearly bumped into Sean as they turned the corner.

“Unless you want to get arrested,” he said, “I suggest you boys leave now.”

Panic in their eyes, they scurried away, apparently buying the fake cop routine.

Sean looked around the corner. There was still the outline of a hat and the flare of another joint. He stepped toward the man. The glow of the joint went out and there was a dark blur. Chipotle Man was taking off.

Sean sprinted after him. Chipotle Man was darting toward a short chain-link fence to the left of the main building. In the dim light, Sean could see a scoreboard and realized that the man was headed to the football field. Chipotle Man raced down the bleacher stairs and jumped another fence and disappeared onto the field. Sean followed, taking the stairs two at a time, aluminum thundering with each step. He vaulted the fence and continued after him. Chipotle Man came into view again. He looked over his shoulder and stumbled, allowing Sean to gain on him.

Sean was close, but the man was just out of reach. He felt the gun slipping out from his waistband. Sean willed himself a burst of strength and he dove, catching Chipotle Man around the legs and bringing him down. As Sean also hit the ground, the gun fell onto the field.

Chipotle Man sat in the grass for a dazed moment. He stared at Sean and then his glance moved to the gun. Both men paused a beat, and then simultaneously scrambled toward the revolver. The next thing Sean saw was the skinny man, panting and out of breath, standing over him, the barrel aimed at Sean's head.

“Are you fucking crazy?”
Chipotle Man shouted. He was breathing heavily and he let out a barking cough.

Sean held up his hand, shielding his face. “I just want to know what happened to my daughter.”

The man hit Sean in the head with the butt of the gun, sending him flat on the field. The man stood over him.

“I didn't touch your daughter,” Chipotle Man shouted. “Get that through your dumb-ass head. And I don't got her cheap-ass necklace no more if that's what this is about.”

Emily, Ryan, and Jack's faces shot through Sean's mind as the blood from the gash on his head dripped into his eyes. This had been a mistake. Another terrible mistake. He looked up at Chipotle Man. “What … happened … to it?” His mouth was dry, voice hoarse.

“Happened to what, motherfucker?”

“The necklace…” Sean struggled.

“Some guy bought it back for her.”

It didn't make sense. Who would she have gone to for help? He looked up at the man, who seemed to be debating what to do. Sean was feeling faint, but he fought to stay conscious.

“Who was he?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

“Who…”

Chipotle Man's eyes narrowed. The last thing Sean heard before things went dark was “He was some rich dude in a suit, like you.”

 

CHAPTER 28

When Sean came to, he was laid out in the grass on the football field. His arm was outstretched and a hand cinched around his wrist. He felt another swell of nausea. He looked up and saw Chipotle Man, the veins in the man's thin neck bulging, as he struggled to drag Sean across the field. He had one hand around Sean's wrist, the other holding a phone to his ear.

“I don't think I've got a choice,” Chipotle Man said into the phone.

In the distance behind the man Sean could see lights winking through gaps in the trees. If Chipotle Man wanted to kill him, he assumed he would have done it already. Maybe he just needed to give the guy a way out.

“I'm not gonna tell anyone,” Sean said. His throat was still dry, his voice raspy. “I just want to know about my daughter.”

Chipotle Man stopped and let go of Sean's wrist. His arm flopped to the ground. Into the phone Chipotle Man said, “Hold on a minute.” He crouched down near Sean's face. His clothes smelled of cigarettes and weed. Breath foul. “Shut your fucking mouth or I will put a bullet in you.” He stood and brandished the gun—Sean's gun.

Chipotle Man then went ramrod straight, his eyes bugged, and he collapsed. Sean shoved the man's limp body off of him and strained to sit up. He wiped the blood away from his eyes with his own shirt and tried to focus on the silhouette standing before him.

He was pale, his face disfigured from fear. And he was holding a steel rod—the kind used in construction—in his right hand.

Ryan.

 

CHAPTER 29

Sean stumbled across the field, his arm around Ryan's shoulder, like some wounded quarterback who'd had his bell rung. His pulse was hammering at his temples, but he wasn't dizzy anymore and was gaining his footing.

“Wait,” he said.

Ryan stopped and looked at his father. His eyes darted around the field.

“I need to go back,” Sean said. “The gun.”

Ryan was shaking his head, but Sean held up a finger for him to wait. He made his way back to Chipotle Man. In the center of the field, the skinny man lay unconscious on his side. Sean leaned down and started to move in to take a pulse, but he could see Chipotle Man's chest heaving up and down. The man's hat was nearby on the ground and Chipotle Man's hair seemed matted with blood. Sean winced with pain as he bent over and scooped up the gun.

A siren's wail penetrated the quiet. It was not a continual blare, but a quick on and off. Red lights swirled from the front of the school. Sean hobbled quickly to Ryan, and they reached a tall chain-link fence that bordered the field. They ducked through a hole someone had cut into the fence and trekked into a small patch of woods. As they headed into the trees, Ryan stopped and said, “My bike.”

“We'll have to leave it.” That decision was confirmed when flashlight beams touched the brush. Sean clutched Ryan's hand and ran, the branches stinging his face and arms.

He was losing his breath, but he kept running until Ryan's hand slipped free. Sean turned back. Ryan was on the ground hugging his knees. Sean crouched down. He'd seen this before.

“Are you okay?”

Ryan was breathing heavily and didn't respond.

“Look at me,” Sean whispered.

Ryan's eyes lifted.

Sean said, “It's gonna be okay.”

“But I hurt him.”

“He was going to hurt me,” Sean said. “You saved me, Ryan.”

Ryan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “But what if he's dead?”

“He's not dead,” Sean said. “He was moving when I went back. It was no worse than when he clocked me on the head. He'll have a major headache, but he'll be okay.”

The tension in Ryan's face seemed to fade a little.

“Are you okay to move? We really need to go,” Sean said, as he scanned the shadows. He rose and offered Ryan his hand.

Ryan grabbed it and hoisted himself up, and they continued their escape through the trees.

 

CHAPTER 30

From the brush, they cut through the Capital Crescent Trail, the only light a sliver of moon through the cover of trees.

“How'd you find me at the school?” Sean asked as they walked side by side, the sound of gravel under their feet. He was struck by his son's bravery, but he also was concerned. Emily was right, Ryan was a gentle, sensitive boy. And he'd already been through so much with Abby. Whatever anger Sean had felt toward Ryan earlier in the day had vanished.

Ryan said, “You were so mad when you left the house, and I was worried, so I rode my bike to Chipotle. I saw you parked and watching him, so I followed when you left.”

Sean nodded. His son had been right to worry.

“I think someone else was following you too, Dad.”

Sean gave his son a quizzical look.

“At the school. I was going to come talk to you, but I saw this guy on a motorcycle. He parked and followed you.”

“Was he a blond guy built like a refrigerator?” Sean asked, thinking of Chipotle Man's muscle.

“I don't think so. I only got a quick look at him, but I don't think he was blond. He took off his helmet and the main thing I remember is that he had a mark on his face, a mole, I think.”

Sean shook his head. “I didn't see him.”

“You said you had to go back for a gun. You had a gun, Dad?”

“I'll explain later. I'm just glad you came, buddy. If it wasn't for you, I might not be standing here. Thank you.”

Ryan seemed to stand a little taller at that.

“Where's the metal bar you hit him with?” Sean asked.

“I threw it as far as I could when we were running through the trees.”

They found an opening on the trail and peered out at the school. The police were gone. The cops must not have seen Chipotle Man on the football field, or the man had regained consciousness and slipped away. Sean led Ryan to the SUV and they both climbed in. Ryan started crying. Sean wasn't sure if it was the sight of him bloody and beaten in the overhead lamp or the weight of what had just happened bearing down on his son. He reached over and hugged Ryan, holding him tight as he let it all out.