| |
Garrison watched until Sam and the police officer disappeared down the twisting road. He'd really botched that up. What had he been thinking, getting a woman with an anxiety disorder to drive him all over town in the middle of the night—and giving her a hard time about it, too? He hadn't been thinking, not about her.
He'd be lucky if she ever forgave him.
He had half a mind to tell the cops to haul Aiden to jail and follow her.
Instead, he turned toward Eric, who was standing by Aiden. But his gaze caught on the Camry.
The thick oak tree that had taken the brunt of the crash stood straight. But the car... The hood was mangled, the front passenger side mashed in. If somebody'd been in the passenger seat, he'd be seriously injured. Or dead.
He looked away before he threw up. He'd seen his share of tragedy in his life, but this was different. This was his tragedy, his son.
Aiden could have died tonight.
Garrison forced his gaze up, saw Aiden watching him. He approached Eric. "What happened?"
Eric led Garrison to the far side of the ambulance and out of Aiden's earshot. "There's a fellow who hangs out at the Nuthouse. We suspect he's dealing, but we haven't nailed him yet. I was heading to his house to see if your car was there. On the way, I saw the Camry coming toward me. I let him pass, then turned around, thinking I'd follow at a distance. But then your son did a U-turn and passed me a second time. I tried to play it cool, but I guess when he saw the cruiser in his rearview, he panicked. Floored it. I stayed pretty far back so Aiden would relax." Eric pointed to a street sign and a narrow country road Garrison hadn't noticed before. "I'm guessing he saw that road and thought he'd turn, try to lose me, but he was going too fast and lost control."
Garrison pictured the scene.
Eric lowered his arm. "Your boy's lucky this is such a winding road. If he'd hit a straightaway and been going much faster, this could have been a lot worse."
Garrison swallowed and turned to gaze at Aiden, who was still seated on the gurney, hunched over, head in his hands. A paramedic stood beside him, asking questions.
"This is awkward, you being a friend of the chief's."
Garrison returned his focus to the officer. "Worked with him on a case last spring."
"I was there when they found Ana, heard you were involved. If you need some recommendations for facilities, call the station tomorrow. We got a guy in town with a lot of experience."
"It's not Reed, is it?"
"Good. Sam already hooked y'all up. Take his advice. He knows what he's doing."
"I plan to." He gazed at his son, watched as the paramedic looked into his eyes with a small flashlight, then shut it off and slipped it into a pocket. He stepped away.
Garrison turned back to Eric. "What are you going to do here?"
Eric shook his head. "I'm still thinking about it." He approached Aiden, stopped a few feet away, and crossed his arms across his thick chest. Though Eric was a few inches shorter than Garrison and Aiden, the man was all muscle. Intimidation personified.
Garrison followed and stood beside him.
"Look at me, boy," Eric said.
Aiden looked up, saw his dad, then focused on the police officer.
"I got you for possession, reckless driving, DUI, disobeying a police officer..." Eric paused. "I'm sure I could come up with a few more."
Aiden's eyes filled with tears. "Yes, sir."
"You could have killed yourself. You could have killed somebody else. You understand that?"
"Yes, sir."
He pointed to the mangled car. "You could have been pulled out of that and shoved straight into a body bag. Can you picture that?"
Tears streamed down Aiden's face. He looked down, nodded his head.
"Imagine your dad standing beside your body. Imagine him having to plan your funeral."
Garrison's eyes stung. That picture came too easily.
Eric's voice was harsh. "Look at me."
Aiden did. His lower lip trembled, and Garrison wanted nothing more than to wrap his child in his arms.
Maybe...maybe this would be the wake-up call.
Eric gazed at his cruiser for a long moment, looked back at Aiden. "You want to go to jail tonight?"
"No, sir."
"Do you deserve to go to jail tonight?"
Aiden's gaze flicked to Garrison. He nodded.
"Didn't hear you," Eric said.
Aiden looked up. "Yes, sir."
"In my job," the cop said, "I often have to choose between justice and mercy. You know what those words mean?"
Aiden nodded.
"Okay?" Eric waited, eyebrows lifted.
Aiden looked at Garrison, who nodded at the cop.
"Don't look at him, boy," Eric said. "This is on you."
Aiden met Eric's eyes. "So, like, justice is when you get what's coming to you, I guess."
"I like that," Eric said. "And mercy?"
Aiden shrugged. "I guess it's when you don't."
Eric nodded slowly, as if he were digesting the words. "Good. That's a good way to put it. If you get what you deserve tonight, it means jail, right?"
Aiden nodded.
Eric looked at Garrison, looked at his police cruiser, looked at Aiden. "I'm going with mercy tonight. Don't make me regret it."
Aiden dropped his shoulders, which shook with sobs.
Garrison could hardly hold in his own tears as he turned to the man and shook his hand again. "Thank you."
"Get him in a facility right away. Let us know if you need anything."
"Will do."
Eric stepped forward and clasped the boy on the shoulder. "Let this be rock bottom. Then the only way to go is up."