Chapter 5 - Why Me?
I watched the footage again.
“He knew I was inside.”
Collins nodded.
“Looks that way.”
Emily returned from the station close to six.
June was asleep on two chairs pushed together.
Emily sat across from me.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’ve said that.”
“I mean for all of it.”
“You didn’t put the man there.”
She looked tired enough to fold in half.
“I put Darren in our lives.”
“You also left him.”
“Too late.”
“That’s not how leaving works.”
Her eyes lifted.
“You always talk like that?”
“Usually worse.”
She smiled once.
Then it disappeared.
“Why you?”
“That’s what police are asking.”
Emily stared at my hands.
“You testified.”
“Twelve years ago.”
“Darren never forgot humiliation.”
I felt cold.
“What did he say about me?”
“He used to say you made him look weak.”
“I told the truth.”
“That was the humiliation.”
That fit Darren more than I wanted it to.
Emily continued.
“He remembered details about everybody who crossed him. Names. Cars. Addresses.”
“You think he knew my shop?”
“I think if he’s alive, he knew everything.”
June stirred.
“Mom?”
Emily moved instantly.
“I’m here.”
June sat up.
“Can Jack come home with us?”
Emily and I looked at each other.
Collins answered before either of us could.
“No one is going home tonight.”
Police had arranged a motel under another name.
Emily hated it.
I understood why.
Temporary rooms feel like surrender.
But she agreed.
I went home.
At 9:20, I pulled into my driveway.
My shop sat behind the house.
The side door was open.
I never left it open.
I called Collins.
Then I waited outside.
Officers arrived.
Inside, nothing looked stolen.
Tools remained.
Cash drawer untouched.
Motorcycles untouched.
Only one thing had been moved.
An old steel filing cabinet in the back office.
Its top drawer stood open.
Inside were records from twelve years earlier.
Invoices.
Court papers.
The Darren Pike case.
One folder was missing.
My original witness statement.
On the desk sat a child's paper star.
The same kind hanging from June’s backpack.
I did not touch it.
Collins stared.
“That hers?”
“No.”
“How do you know?”
June’s was yellow.
This one was purple.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man whispered, “Still like playing hero, Jack?”
May you like
I knew the voice before he laughed.
Darren Pike was alive.
