To Live and To Breathe (Could Be #2)

Chapter 46

Mrs. Wright was the first to arrive, and entered the inspector's office with a face as white as a sheet. She exclaimed in shock when she realized that Timothy's prosthetic was gone, and burst into tears of frightened relief as soon as she understood that her son had nearly died for the second time in his life. Timothy was embarrassed by her very public display of affection, but another part was strangely relieved—at least until Mrs. Paine arrived. Then he was mortified.

The thin, shrewish-looking woman stormed into the inspector's office as if she had hopes of dragging Sam out by his ear. "What did you do?" she exclaimed, causing Sam to shrink back. After a hurriedly whispered conference between mother and son, he gave up his chair to her and she sat down, looking at the inspector like only one more obstacle on the path to a moment's peace.

The last to arrive was Mr. Wright, who had been at work when the inspector gave him the message. He entered the office with an air of foreboding that would have taken Timothy's breath away had he not just met Mrs. Paine. He took off his hat and nodded to the inspector, visibly angry though his wife tried to explain as soon as he came through the door. Then he stared at Timothy like he'd announced he enjoyed swimming.

Mr. Montgomery sat back. "I have called you here for questions regarding what the newspapers have popularly referred to as the Dare Murders."

Mr. Wright regarded him blankly, Mrs. Paine sniffed, and Mrs. Wright looked uncomfortable. "I only know what my son has told me, or I've read from the papers," she said. "He told me that he and Samuel Paine were trying to discover who killed a fellow journalist—I believe his name was Mr. Graham—for a story."

Mrs. Paine gave Sam a look that would have wilted a cabbage.

Timothy was almost relieved when he and his parents were told to wait outside in the dark, wood-paneled hallway while the Paines were questioned. Seeing Sam get trodden under his mother's anger was an unexpected sorrow—and one too many for today.

Mr. Wright glared at his wife and son as soon as the door shut behind them. "I demand to know what exactly is going on."

Timothy sagged on his crutches. He couldn't think of any better way to break the news than to break it fast. "Sam and I have been writing on the Dare Murders, and our last assignment was to find out who murdered Mr. Graham."

Mr. Wright opened his mouth, then shut it and walked away with his hands on his head. "Is that what the charity ball at the Lancasters' was about?" he asked, voice tight.

Timothy nodded, studying the floor.

"And what part of that process has gathered us here today in this wonderfully charming police station?"

Timothy knew he was on thin ice when his father resorted to sarcasm. He winced, listening to Mrs. Paine's shrill but indistinct voice shouting on the other side of the door. His head throbbed. "We interviewed Mr. Webb, who had been a suspect in the case, and then received a note asking us for our presence after we'd left. When we returned, we found that he'd been murdered." The confession carried a sense of detachment now, as if his experiences belonged to someone else.

"Oh, Tim," Mrs. Wright breathed.

His father gestured impatiently at his leg. "And what of this?"

"We were captured by the murderer—I don't know why he didn't kill us—and when we escaped the cellar he trapped us in, his brother caught us and set the price of our freedom at the cost of mine. I'm told there's a market for such things." He swallowed, bracing himself for them to question his intelligence, whether he hadn't learned anything eight years ago, and whether he understood what he'd done. He did know, perfectly. And he almost wished he hadn't.

"Tim has been very courageous," Mrs. Wright said, taking her husband's arm.

Mr. Wright snorted. "That isn't the word I'd use for it."

Foolhardy. Reckless. Idiotic. Timothy could think of a few worthy alternatives, and wouldn't have denied any of them. He shifted, the crossbars of his crutches beginning to hurt. Unstable. Suddenly the door to Mr. Montgomery's office opened, and the Paines issued out, Sam's mother berating him all the way.

He spared only one miserable glance at Timothy in passing, and then the Wrights were beckoned into the office to take their place. Timothy eased into Sam's chair wondering if there was anything he could do to lessen Mrs. Paine's wrath. His mother took the other chair, and Mr. Wright paced behind them like a caged lion.

"I understand that your son is a remarkable citizen of Thameton," Mr. Montgomery began, looking at Mr. Wright.

This was unexpected. Timothy didn't dare look at his father, but the pacing stopped. He wondered what Mr. Montgomery could possibly consider remarkable about him. He was—what was he? A little broken one-legged scribbler that was too stubborn to die?

"He accompanied Mr. Paine to the residence of the deceased knowing it was likely to endanger them both, and then proceeded to pick the lock of the cellar they were trapped in using a pocket knife." Timothy squirmed, feeling the eyes of both his parents resting on him. "When they were stopped before leaving the house by Jack Bradley's brother, he willingly gave up his wooden leg to the man so that both he and Mr. Paine could go free. Then, unable to walk without help, he insisted that he accompany Mr. Paine here to alert the police of the murderer's whereabouts, when he could have gone home just as easily with a healthy conscience."

Had Sam told Mr. Montgomery all that? Timothy didn't think his face would ever stop being red. The silence after the inspector finished was so thick even the buzzing of the fly in the window sounded muted.

Mr. Wright appeared at Timothy's elbow, hand over his mouth as if he were thinking over a problem without an answer. "Is this true?"

Before Timothy could do more than nod faintly, Mr. Montgomery answered for him. "If it is, it will be corroborated. We've already arrested Jack Bradley—he was returning to the scene as my men arrived. We're searching for his brother as we speak, and Mr. Astor should arrive any moment."

"Mr. Astor?" His father echoed as if he thought he might have misheard the inspector.

Mr. Montgomery made a notation on the pad of paper. "Mr. Phillip Astor. Mr. Bradley swears he's been the one paying him to murder any threats to his business. We'll know soon. Does that name sound familiar to you?"

Mr. Wright gestured as if he were at a loss for words. "He's my brother-in-law."

The inspector made another notation on the pad of paper. "Very good—your son told me he was his nephew. You're an honest family. I think we'll enjoy working together."

Mr. Wright looked as if he rather doubted that.

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While writing this chapter it was interesting to me to play with how the different parents reacted to the same news. I found a lot of Timothy in his father's reaction.