C.J. Carmichael

Matthew's Children


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stretched between them, and Matt realized that his son was waiting for something. Oh, cripes. Derrick wasn’t hoping Matthew would volunteer for the job, was he?

      “I wish I could help, but my work is too unpredictable.” He was making most of the games, but no way could he handle practices, plus all the prep work in between.

      “I know that.” Derrick sounded angry. “I didn’t ask you to, did I?” He swung his soccer bag over his shoulder and started toward Gillian’s car. His mother was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting.

      Matthew didn’t want the evening to end this way. “How about we grab a slushy? I’ll drop you off at home later.”

      Derrick paused. He seemed tempted. But then he shook his head. “I’ve got an English assignment due tomorrow. I’d better go straight home.”

      “Sure.” Matthew swallowed, but the hurt didn’t go anywhere. It stayed lodged in his throat, its favorite hangout.

      He was being dissed, but he couldn’t blame Derrick. How many times had his son asked him for a little time, and Matthew had put him off because of work? It was such a cliché, the workaholic father, the needy son. Yet the pattern had been set and he didn’t know how to change it.

      All he could do was keep trying. “Okay. Get your schoolwork done and I’ll see you on the weekend.”

      “You mean next weekend, right? I’m at home this one.”

      “Actually, no. Check the calendar, son. You were with your mom last weekend, so it’s my turn.”

      “Fine.” Derrick nodded curtly, then upped his pace to a jog. Matthew watched him go, wishing he’d been able to give his son a hug. But there’d been no opportunity.

      Or none that he could find.

      “I CAN’T FREAKIN’ BELIEVE this.” Wally Keller had refused a chair, and was pacing the small meeting room. He had a broad face, stocky body and intelligent but now frightened-looking eyes.

      An average dad, Matthew thought. In terrifying circumstances.

      It was Tuesday afternoon, one o’clock. Jane had offered Wally Keller coffee at the beginning of their meeting, and when he’d refused, she’d poured a cup for herself. She was leaning against the sideboard now, mug in one hand, eyes trained warily on their new client.

      Matthew didn’t blame her for being cautious. Keller was radiating tension and anger. Innocent people tended to behave that way when they were falsely accused of a crime. Unfortunately, guilty people often reacted the same way.

      “You think you’re doing a good thing, coaching your kid’s soccer team. A lot of parents can’t be bothered. They drop their sons at the field, then drive off to run errands or go back to work.”

      Matthew glanced down at his notebook. Guilty as charged. Not so much now, but in the past he’d definitely been one of the parents Wally Keller was describing.

      “And this is my reward.” He stopped moving and gripped the back of a chair with enough strength to drain the blood from his knuckles.

      For a moment Matthew trained his eyes on those hands. They were average-size for a man, but to a kid they would seem mighty intimidating. For a moment he found himself speculating. Was Keller guilty?

      But that wasn’t a productive line of thought.

      “This must be hard, Wally.” He and Jane had agreed that since Keller knew him, Matthew would lead the conversation.

      He wanted to begin by offering a bit of hope. “Just because the police called you in for questioning doesn’t mean that charges will be laid.”

      “God, I hope you’re right.”

      “But we still have to be prepared,” Matthew continued. “We have a lot to cover. Why don’t you sit down.”

      Wally hesitated, then nodded. Once he was seated, Jane took a place at the table, too. With a subtle nod in Matthew’s direction, she picked up her pen, indicating that she would keep notes, leaving him free to concentrate on the questions.

      She’d always been able to anticipate where he was going in a way none of his other colleagues managed to. He smiled appreciatively then turned to Wally.

      “We need to establish your relationship with Sarah Boutin.”

      “There was no relationship!” Wally’s face reddened.

      “Would you know her if you saw her?”

      “Well, sure. Her twin brother plays for the Blazers. She used to watch all the games and often showed up at practices, too.”

      “The practices?” That was unusual. Mostly, it was just the players who attended those. “Why?”

      “She said girls’ soccer was boring and she liked working out with the boys better. I used to let her join in on some of the drills and exercises.”

      “So you treated her just like the other kids on the team?”

      “Well, not always. Sometimes she would follow me around and try to talk.”

      “Did you have time to do that?” Jane seemed surprised.

      “Not really. When you’re running a practice, you’re pretty busy. Setting up exercises, watching the kids, providing feedback.”

      “What did Sarah like to talk about?” Matthew asked.

      “I didn’t pay that much attention. Like I said, I couldn’t. But I do recall that she talked about her dad a lot. Her folks split up not that long ago. I gather her father left town. It was pretty obvious she missed having the old man around.”

      Matthew nodded. At the preseason soccer party Sarah and Robert’s mother, Claudia Boutin, had cornered him. She’d told him that she, too, would soon be divorced. There had been a few awkward moments when he’d wondered if she was hitting on him.

      He’d been rescued from potential embarrassment when Wally had asked for a volunteer to barbecue burgers. Matthew had practically raced out to the deck.

      “It was pretty obvious the kid missed having her dad around,” Wally continued. “Frankly, she was disruptive, and I was often tempted to send her home, but I felt sorry for her and I didn’t.”

      From his expression, he clearly regretted that decision. So did Matthew.

      “Were you ever alone with her?”

      “I’ve been thinking about that, and I can only think of one time.”

      Damn. He’d been hoping there’d been no times. “What happened?”

      “A thunderstorm brewed up during practice last week. I had the kids phone their parents to pick them up.”

      Matthew remembered that night. Gillian had been busy with Violet’s gym class, so she’d phoned to see if he could get Derrick. He’d been at a meeting on the other side of the city, too far to reach the field on time. So he’d called Derrick and suggested he catch a ride with a neighbor.

      “Did Sarah and Robert’s mother show up to get them?”

      “No. I didn’t realize it, but Robert had accepted a ride home from a teammate who lived on the same block as the Boutins. I guess he forgot about his sister. When the storm hit, she was the only kid left on the field. The lightning seemed close. It was safer for the two of us to wait in my car. But her mother never did show up, and eventually, I drove Sarah home myself.”

      Matthew glanced at Jane and saw the same dismay in her eyes that he was feeling. It was an emotion he did his best not to reveal as he asked, “How long were you and Sarah alone together?”

      “Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. If you count the drive home, half an hour.” Wally seemed to understand the potential danger in this, because he exploded with anger again. “What was