Chapter 9

 

Joey’s last bite of sandwich went down like a rock. His throat muscles resisted every inch of the way. He swallowed a few extra times to try to ease the ache.

Carol’s brows crept together and she gave a sad sort of smile. “A friend of mine, he’d say you’re a survivor, that you’re making a new start.”

He looked past her. “That deejay guy?”

“That’s the one. He’s a little flaky, but his advice is pretty good.”

Giving her a mock glare, Joey stuffed the bag of cookies into his backpack and stood. “Let’s walk some more.”

Carol put her things in her bag, except the apple, which she polished on one leg of her capris. “You didn’t have to tell me, but it doesn’t change the Joey I know. Except I may never let you drive my car.”

The hand holding the apple stilled, and she shot him a troubled glance. Afraid she’d crossed a line? Joey grinned and swung his backpack at her, aiming to miss. Her smile returned as she darted out of reach.

He shouldered his pack and they wandered back toward the road. “How are your legs?”

“I’m good, thanks. Probably be stiff tomorrow.” Carol crunched a bite out of her apple.

They crossed a footbridge toward a fountain. Ahead of them, an elderly couple walked hand in hand. Joey lowered his voice. “Doesn’t that warm your heart?”

“They’re lucky.”

The couple stopped at the fountain. Joey and Carol kept walking. They passed a series of flower gardens. On another day, Joey would have dawdled, absorbing the exuberant fall colours. He expected Carol to want to stop, but apparently she wasn’t a flower person.

When they came into an open area, pedestrians milled everywhere. Joey spotted a few people on rented bicycles, including a pair of girls on a two-seater. “Hey, that looks fun.”

Carol nodded. “Which way now?”

The rest of his story burned in his chest. He had to tell her, but not here. Joey pointed away from the crowd. Carol tossed her apple core into a plastic garbage can and fell in step beside him. He noticed a worn dirt trail leading through a thin stand of trees to the water. “Want to check that out?”

Branches grazed their arms until they stepped onto a dirt trail at the island’s edge. A graffiti-scrawled concrete barrier fenced them away from Lake Ontario. Overhead, white gulls dipped and soared. A few distant sailboats glided in slow motion, and nearer to shore a man stood on some kind of surfboard. A paddleboard, maybe, since he used a long, double-paddled pole to control it.

Confession time. Out with it. Now. While the path was mostly deserted. But ease into it gently. Joey cleared his throat. “What’s your son up to today?”

“Spending time with his friends. They even do their homework together.”

“Kids that age want their space. I’m glad he found a good group to hang out with.”

Carol’s lips thinned. “There’s no sign of drugs. And I know how to look.”

Joey shivered. She’d told him about losing her son Keith. No wonder she hated even the mention of drugs. He stopped and rested his elbows on the concrete barrier, staring at the line where water met sky.

She joined him, near enough for conversation yet not touching him. “Look at that guy on the board out there. I’d be petrified. Ever try it?”

Joey snorted. “I said I was stupid, not crazy!”

“He seems to know what he’s doing.” A mix of frown and admiration on her face, Carol kept watch on the paddle-boarder. Joey’s eyes traced the curve of her cheek, the tightness of her jaw, the tendons of her throat. She couldn’t trust this experienced boarder to stay safe, couldn’t trust her own son. Likely neither of them would let her down.

She trusted him a bit.

Joey sucked air. If he thought about what he had to say, he’d never do it. “Carol, I —”

Carol yelled, spun around. Joey whirled as a slim figure raced away with Carol’s bag. He tapped her arm. “I’m on it.”

The thief ran along the path and ducked sideways through an opening in the trees. Joey pounded behind him, inching nearer. They reached open ground. Both put on more speed. Joey had started cold, and a stitch knifed his left side. He growled and pushed harder, glaring at the back of the guy’s head. The guy glanced back, and something in Joey’s face must have scared him. He missed a stride, caught himself, and lunged ahead.

Joey made a flying leap. He crashed into the thief’s ribs. Together they slammed into a big, green garbage can.

The container tipped, rolled. They rode it to the ground. Joey’s captive writhed and cursed, but Joey kept his fingers wrapped in the guy’s shirt and shoved him against the grass. The garbage can rebounded off something and broadsided them.

This thief was just a kid — maybe Carol’s son’s age. Something in his eyes — Joey let go of the shirt and grabbed both wrists in case the boy had a knife. He planted a knee on his captive’s thin chest while his own heaved for air. “I suggest — you give — the lady — back — her bag.”

Footsteps thudded behind them. “Joey, are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just — a little winded.” He dragged a lungful of air. “I suppose we have to — report this — He’ll be on the street by — nightfall anyway though.”

Carol squatted beside him, staring at the boy on the ground. When she looked at Joey, he caught the unshed tears. She blinked hard. “Let him go. You got my bag back. Please, Joey. He — Keith had hair like that — I —”

Carol focused on the kid. “Whatever you’re into, get out of it. While you’re still alive. Don’t do this to your family. Don’t do it to yourself.”

She pulled her bag from the boy’s hand and took a few paces away, shoulders shaking.

Joey drilled his captive with a stare. “You heard her.” He lifted his knee from the boy’s chest, released the bony wrists and jumped clear in case there was a knife in those pockets. “Get help if you —”

The kid was already racing across the park, limping slightly. Joey followed him with his eyes. Jesus, reach him somehow.

Joey turned. “Carol?” Something said not to touch her, but he stepped nearer. “He’s gone. Can I get you anything?”

“Just give me a minute. I’m sorry.”

He reached out a hand, but let it fall. “Hey, none of that. I’m sorry he spoiled our day.” So much for Joey’s chance to clear his conscience. He didn’t dare add to her load now.

“Hey!” Another boy jogged toward them. Joey remembered seeing that green hoodie not far from where he and Carol had stood watching the water. The newcomer slowed as he approached. Carol dragged her arm across her face and turned to meet him.

The teen waved his Smartphone at Carol. “Too bad he got away, but I have it on video. Just uploaded it to Facebook. Do you want me to send it to the police?”

Carol choked out something between a squeal and a whimper. Her face was dead white. Joey grabbed her arm to keep her upright, but she was trembling so hard that he pulled her to his side. “Lean on me for a minute till you get your balance.”

She flashed him a wild-eyed look. “I can’t have my picture online.”

Joey turned to the boy. “Could you take it down?”

“No way, dude, that was one sick tackle! Want to see?”

Joey tightened his arm around Carol’s shoulder. Why couldn’t anything ever be simple? “Sure. I was kind of in the middle of it.”

Watching himself barrel across the grass, leap through the air and bring the thief down into the garbage can was pretty sweet. Joey grinned at the boy holding the phone. “Didn’t know I had it in me. Could you back up to the beginning? Maybe my friend isn’t even on-screen.”

The boy swiped his thumb across the small screen and Joey squinted to see how much detail there’d be. His stomach twisted. Carol’s face showed, clear and startled. Beside him, her trembling increased.

Joey studied the boy’s face. “My friend really doesn’t want her picture splashed on the Internet. Couldn’t you take it down?”

The boy’s lips twisted down. “I tagged the local TV station. They give fifty bucks to the best amateur news video.”

“Please!” Carol sounded near tears again.

Joey pulled his wallet from his pocket and peeled out three twenties. “Here’s sixty to take it down.”

“No way, dude, I’m not taking your money. That’s crazy.”

“What if you blurred her face? Or cut the first bit and focused on the chase? That’d make a better video anyway.”

The teen’s brows came together. “I guess I could do that, but, lady, it’s no big deal. Really.”

Joey glanced at Carol’s white face, her hopeless eyes, and levelled a stare at the boy. “It’s a big deal in this case. Don’t you see how scared she is? She’s got an abusive ex with a restraining order that won’t stop him. If he finds her again, he’ll kill her.” The lie went down sour, but he had to do something.

At his side, Carol went completely still. The teen stared from one to the other. “It’s a big city. Even if he used that fancy face-recognition software and found her in the video, he wouldn’t know where to look after this.”

Carol choked. “He doesn’t know I’m in this big city.”

The boy blinked. Joey pushed a little harder. “He’s a cop.”

“O-kay.” The teen fiddled with his phone. “It’s down. You’d better hope the station didn’t already snag a copy. Let me see if I can figure out the editing software on this thing.”

Carol let out a long, shuddery breath. Joey kept his arm around her and they waited. The boy scowled at his phone and muttered under his breath, but in a few minutes he looked up with a grin. “Got it. I chopped the part with you, Miss, and uploaded the new version.”

His grin spread, and he focused on his phone, thumbs flying. Then he slid the phone into his pocket and looked up. “I messaged the station to say you made me cut you out — that you threatened to sue. They won’t want to touch the first video now.”

Carol stood a little taller, and Joey let his arm fall away. “Thank you.” They both spoke at once. Joey held out the bills again. “Take this. Please. You’ve done a good thing today.”

The boy stared at the money in Joey’s hand and shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay.”

“Please. If you really don’t want to keep it, use it to make someone else’s day. But I think you deserve a reward.”

The boy shrugged. He curled his fingers around the bills and put them in his pocket. “Thanks, then. And I hope the dirty cop gets what’s coming to him.” He loped back through the trees toward the water.

Carol met Joey’s eyes. “Thank you. For everything.” A slow grin split her face. “A cop?”

“Hey, that tipped it.”

“I suppose. And for the record, there’s no abusive ex. I’m just me. Hiding. And I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

“Fair enough.” How could Joey ever navigate this minefield to share his own destructive news?