Page 59 of A Hidden Past

“I’m going to ruin your life, you meddling little asshole. How dare—”

“Mr. Harlow,” Detective Ramirez asks sweetly. “Would you like to press charges against Mr. Kensington for making criminal threats?”

I meet Julian’s eyes and say, “I’m not sure yet.”

“We were arguing,” Clara begins.

“Clara, shut up!”

“I think I might press charges, actually,” I say.

Julian turns to me. “You…” then he laughs again and grins. He thinks it’s an angry and intimidating grin. It looks to me more like a cornered and wounded animal realizing he’s about to be eaten. How ironic that it’s his own fangs that will consume him.

Speaking of, here comes the other cop. He’s holding the diary. What’s left of it anyway. It’s been burnt, and all that’s left are the spine, the cover and a few charred pages.

“Any reason why you burnt your daughter’s diary, Mr. Kensington?”

Julian looks sick. “Lawyer.”

Detective Ramirez shrugs. “Works for me. Harris, take him to the car.”

“We won’t speak without a lawyer, right Clara? Clara!”

Clara looks away from him. “I’m sorry, Julian.”

“Clara. Listen—take your hands off me!”

“Nope. You’re under arrest.”

“You can’t… you… Clara!”

“I think I’ll press those criminal threat charges after all.”

Julian looks at me and says, “You fucking shit stain. I will ruin you. You little…”

Anything else he wants to say is cut off by his own front door closing in his face.

I turn back to Clara, and Detective Ramirez says, "You have to go too, kid. This is an official statement. You can’t be here.”

My anger flares up at that. I’m finally about to see justice done for Lila. I want to hear it. I want to hear her killer confess. I want the satisfaction I never got with Annie.

But I know better. I nod and head outside.

The other cop, Harris, I think Lena called him, is on the porch smoking a cigarette. He offers me one, and I decline.

“Smart kid. These’ll kill you.”

“Then why do you smoke?”

He shrugs. “Everybody dies.”

He’s not wrong.

I look at the police car to see Julian shaking with fear. He's done for, and he knows it.

Isn’t he?

I turn to Harris and ask, “You think they’ll put him away for this?”