Jackson stormed out of the stark, impersonal surroundings of room Four-Ninety-One, leaving his brother a blubbering mess.
Chase jerked away from the wall and looked at him. “Is everything okay?”
“Mobile phone. Now,” was all Jackson could manage to say.
With shaking hands, she dug into her pants pocket and retrieved it, handing it over.
He whirled and marched back into the room, with Chase hot on his heels.
“What is it? What happened?” she said.
“He can tell you once he’s contacted the police.” Jackson thrust the phone at Jake.
“The police? Why?” she said, looking from Jackson to Jake.
“I can’t do this,” Jake cried, refusing to take the phone.
“Fine,” Jackson said, tapping the Search field in the middle of the screen.
He knew he should have waited for this confrontation. His brother hadn’t been out of surgery for more than two hours. He needed to rest.
But he might have talked himself out of confessing. He’s a sneaky, manipulative bastard.
“Call the police,” he said when the screen displayed the word “Listening…”
The call connected and he tapped the speaker icon.
“Okay, okay, okay,” Jake said, extending his skinny arm. “Give it here.”
“Bradbury Police Department,” a woman answered. “This is Doreen Carey. How may I direct your call?”
“This is Jake O’Halloran,” Jake mumbled, glaring at Jackson. “My brother insisted I call.”
Jackson glared at Jake, shaking his head.
“What is this regarding?” Doreen said.
Jake swallowed. “The fire…”
“Today’s fire? The one in the Sun-a-Do mountains?” she said.
“That’s the one,” Jake croaked.
“Oh, no,” Chase whispered, clutching the railing of the hospital bed, clearly having connected the dots.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said,” Doreen said.
Jake cleared his throat. “The Sun-a-Do fire, yes.”
“Okay, thank you. What information do you have to share?”
“I know who did it,” Jake mumbled.
Jackson stared at the throbbing arteries in his brother’s neck.
“Jake,” he said in a barely audible warning tone.
“Let me transfer you to the right department,” Doreen said. She put the call on hold, and a lively jazz tone played.
Jackson’s lips pressed into a hard line.
Chase stared at Jake with tears in her eyes. Her bright red hair, hanging along her forehead, provided a stark contrast to her now-pale, mocha-colored skin.
“Honey, no,” she whispered.
“This is Sargent Masterson,” a gruff-sounding voice said into the phone. “To whom am I speaking?”
“This is Jake O’Halloran,” Jake said.
“And you say you have information on who started the fire?” Sargent Masterson said.
“Yes, sir.” Jake paused. “It was me,” he said, his voice cracking at the end.
“One second, sir, I need to get more information from you,” Sargent Masterson said.
The line grew silent.
A kind-looking nurse wearing a short-sleeved navy-colored top with red trim around the collar entered the room. Her wavy espresso-colored hair had been pulled from her face with a hair tie. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her name tag read, Charlotte Cermak.
She glanced at the monitor next to Jake and frowned. “Your pulse and blood pressure are elevated. How do you feel, Mr. O’Halloran?”
“Like shit,” Jake said, gloomily.
“Where are you, sir?” Sargent Masterson said into the phone.
“In the hospital,” Jake said.
“Which one? Bradbury?”
Jake shrugged and looked at Nurse Cermak.
She stepped toward the bed and said, “This is Nurse Cermak. To whom am I speaking?”
“Sargent Masterson with the Bradbury Police Department.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “Oh! Well, what is this regarding? The person you’re speaking with is a patient here at Bradbury Hospital. He’s only been out of surgery for a couple of hours so he can’t be tied up on the phone.”
“I’ll need to head down and question him, ma’am.”
Jake squeezed his eyes shut. Any lingering color fled from his face, leaving his complexion gray and sallow. The pulse rate indicator blipped faster on the monitor.
Nurse Cermak said, “He needs to rest. He was badly injured today in the fire.”
“I’ll be brief. I just need to ask him a few questions.”
A stern look crossed Nurse Cermak’s face. “I’ll allow for fifteen minutes.”
“That’s fine, ma’am. What room is the patient in?”
“Four-Ninety-One.”
“Thank you,” Sargent Masterson said. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He disconnected the phone before anyone else could speak.
Nurse Cermak placed her hands on her slender hips.
“Do you know what this is about?” she asked Jackson.
“Yes, ma’am, I do.” He glanced at his brother, who stared off into the distance, stark and barely moving. Jackson sighed. “I’d rather not say at this moment. Everyone will find out soon enough, anyway.”
A mixture of anger, sorrow, and shame competed for the spotlight in his mind. One moment he was furious, the next he was embarrassed to be associated with him, and the next he felt nothing but sadness that things had reached this point.
“Mr. O’Halloran needs a rest before having a discussion with the police,” the nurse said crisply. “I’m going to have to ask you both to leave.””
Jackson glanced at the simple black-rimmed clock on the wall. Blaire would be here soon. “That’s fine, my ride will be here soon. And, Jake…be sure to mention the incident at Egg Ranch Road. You know—the one where the kids and their pets died.”
Jake’s jaw jutted out, and he glanced at the ceiling. “I know, I know.”
“I’ll head to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat,” Chase said. Her eyes were laden with what looked like heartbreak and fatigue. She squeezed Jake’s hand and said, “I’ll be back shortly.”
“Don’t bother,” he grumbled. “I’m hardly worth it.”
“Of course you are, Jakey! You mean the world to me,” she said, tears in her eyes.
He shook his head and turned away from her. “I’d like to speak to my brother.”
Chase hung her head and shuffled from the room.
Nurse Cermak eyed Jackson and said, “I’ll return in five minutes.”
He tried for a reassuring smile. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
She nodded and exited with crisp footsteps squeaking along the white linoleum floor.
When just the two of them occupied the room, Jackson said, gently, “What is it?”
A wave of sympathy washed through him as he stared at his dejected, desolate brother. The sentiment was quickly quashed by rage at the destruction his brother had caused.
“I have a dog,” Jake said, smiling so quickly, Jackson wondered if he imagined it.
“Do you?” he said, lifting his eyebrows.
“Yes,” Jake said. “His name is Padre.”
Jackson sighed. He named his dog the word for father? That’s so sad.
“I rescued him,” Jake said. “He was caught in twine and crap over at the dump. I nursed him back to health. You know those skills we learned from the library?”
This time the smile was evident.
“Sure, I do,” Jackson said, a ghost of a grin flitting across his face.
“I used our mad skills. I nicked a couple of books from the library using Dad’s old library card. Don’t judge me,” he added, flashing a glare in Jackson’s direction. “Some of us aren’t as fortunate as others.”
Jackson put his palms out.
“Don’t start with me,” he said. “What about your dog?”
“He’s an old Bloodhound. He’s got this big, old wrinkly face.” Jake chuckled. “He’s my best bud. I left him a ton of kibble but not enough to last him through a prison sentence.”
Jackson snorted. “Why can’t Chase take him? Besides, you don’t know you’ll go to prison.”
“Please. Trash like me always goes to prison.” Jake sneered. “Chase lives in a tiny apartment with a strict no dogs policy.” His eyes met Jackson’s. “That dog means the world to me. I don’t want anything to happen to him. He’s a good dog. I taught him how to sit and how to balance a treat on his nose until I give the word.” He chuckled, appearing more light-hearted than Jackson had seen him in a long time. “Anyway, can you look after him until I’m able?”
Jackson thought a moment. Bloodhounds were huge. He and Blaire struggled to pay the bills at times. Can we afford another mouth to feed? He studied his brother, laying broken and defeated on his hospital bed.
A long sigh left his lungs. “Sure. Do I need keys or anything? Is the dog confined inside the trailer?”
Jake shook his head. “He’s in a makeshift pen out in the back. One of the neighbors said he’d keep an eye on him to make sure nothing happened to him.”
“Okay,” Jackson said.
“I know it’s a hardship,” Jake said in a snarky tone.
“I said, don’t start. I don’t even know where to begin with you. I’ve got a shitload of stuff to process and comprehend, but an innocent animal shouldn’t suffer because of a stupid human’s behavior.”
“You’re telling me I’m stupid?” Jake said. He started to sit up and winced.
“You and me both. You’re the idiot who torched an entire forest, and I’m the idiot who’s enabled you for too long.” A curious calm fell over Jackson. “I’m done, you know. You’re on your own from this point on.”
Jake’s gaze flitted toward the ceiling.
“Understood,” he said.
Unable to think of anything else to say, Jackson strode from the room, more than ready to head home.