Page 20 of Shadowed Witness (The Secrets of Kincaid #2)

Zhan’s was packed when they arrived, and by the time Eric and Dion made it home with their to-go order, it was getting late.

Eric dropped the pizza boxes on the table and retrieved plates from the cabinet.

The cashier at Zhan’s had given them disposable ones, but he preferred real dishes.

Even if it did require washing them afterward.

He handed one to Dion. “Help yourself.” While the teen filled his plate, Eric moved to the refrigerator and grabbed cans of Coke for both of them.

“Sorry I can’t offer you a variety. It’s this or water. ”

“Coke’s fine.” Dion looked like he was barely restraining himself from digging into the food on his plate.

“Go ahead and eat.”

That was all the permission the teen needed. By the time Eric served himself, Dion’s first slice of pizza had vanished, and he was quickly working his way through a second. Eric pretended not to notice. He’d ordered more than enough for the both of them.

Once Dion’s pace began to slow, Eric folded his arms on the table. “We need to talk man to man.”

Wariness immediately rose in the boy’s eyes. “What about?”

“Your mom. I need to know where she got her drugs. You have any idea who her dealer was?”

He looked away. “What’s it matter now? She’s dead.”

“It does matter. Someone is responsible for her death. And if we can stop the dealers, we can prevent more people from dying.”

Dion shrugged and slowly ripped a piece off a napkin. “Soon’s you stop one, another pops up. Druggies always find a way to get their fix. Mom always did.”

“Doesn’t mean we ignore justice or stop doing our best to stop it.” He waited but got no response. “You didn’t answer my question though. Do you know who her dealer was?”

“No clue.”

“Do you do drugs?”

Dion’s gaze shot back to his. “No!”

That struck a nerve. Eric tried to appear nonthreatening. “No offense meant. I’m not accusing you or trying to trap you. Just asking.”

“Answer’s still no. I saw what they did to Mom. I’m not that stupid.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear it. Lot of people follow their parents’ examples whether they’re making smart decisions or not.”

Dion relaxed ever so slightly at the affirmation, but he continued tearing the napkin, filling his plate with wispy shreds.

“So if you don’t know her dealer, do you know the names of any friends she might have gotten drugs from? Or who might have an idea where she got them?”

“I stayed as far away from her friends as I could.”

“She ever mention their names?”

“First names is all I know. Sarah. Amber. Might have been a David.”

“Okay, that helps. Any others?”

“Dunno. Like I said, we just tried to stay outta their way.”

“You and Lucky?”

“Yeah.” He glanced up from the destroyed napkin, true concern in his eyes. “He doing okay?”

“Yes. I saw him Friday night. He’s being taken care of. I think he misses you though.”

“I’m all he’s got.”

Eric already knew that, but hearing it from Dion felt like a gut punch. He let a few seconds pass before redirecting the conversation. “Another question for you. How’d you know about your mom? Her name hasn’t been released to the news yet.”

Dion stilled. Eric waited him out. He hated what the boy was going through. But he had to do his job, and right now, he had precious little to go on.

“Dion?”

“I saw her,” the teen finally mumbled.

“When? When did you see her?”

“Couple hours before I called.”

“ You called?” They’d been waiting on a warrant to track down the anonymous caller just in case it had been someone involved in Ashley’s death. Looked like that wouldn’t be necessary.

He nodded but didn’t look up. “Didn’t know what else to do.”

“You pretended to be a neighbor?”

Another nod.

“Why didn’t you just say who you were?” And why wait?

“I didn’t know what to do,” he said again. “Knew she was long gone already, so it wouldn’t have done any good to call for an ambulance. And I didn’t want CPS coming after me and Lucky. But he wasn’t in the house then, and you found him before I did.”

“What would you have done if you’d found him?”

He shrugged.

“You two are too young to be on your own, Dion. Lucky needs a roof over his head and regular meals. Stability. You deserve those things too.”

The teen had started to bristle, but at Eric’s last statement, he softened. But then he shook his head.

“You know foster homes aren’t like that. We get a roof, sure. And food most of the time. But they ain’t stable. You get yanked from place to place. And some of the parents are downright mean.”

Eric wished he could refute Dion’s words, but they weren’t totally untrue. Although the system was meant for good, there were often a lot of broken pieces. “I’m sorry you’ve had bad experiences. But I can promise you there are good homes out there, and we’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Nice try, but you don’t control the system.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m powerless. I will take action if I find out there’s neglect or abuse going on in a foster home. And I know the local director. She won’t put up with it either if she finds out her kids are being mistreated.”

“So you say.” He spoke the words under his breath, but Eric caught them.

“I mean it. You still have my number?”

“Yeah.”

“Memorized?”

He hesitated, then nodded.

“I want to hear from you. And not just if things are bad—although I certainly want you to call me if you need help. But you can call if you just want to talk too. I’ll pick up if I can, and if for some reason I can’t, then leave me a message, and I will call back. Promise.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue.

And it really was late now. Eric should probably ask him for more details about how he’d found his mom, if he’d touched her body or moved anything, but at this point, it wouldn’t hurt to wait until tomorrow.

The kid could use a good night’s sleep. He’d been through a lot the past couple of days—and Eric wasn’t na?ve enough to think he’d had it good before that.

He slapped his thighs and stood. “I think it’s time we get some sleep. I don’t have a spare bed, but you can have mine for tonight. I’ll take the couch.”

Dion’s head shot up, his eyes round. “I don’t want to take your bed. It’s your house.”

Eric waved him off. “You’re my guest for tonight. The couch won’t kill me. Sometimes I fall asleep there anyway.”

“But—”

“No but s. And listen, while you’re here, I want you to make yourself at home. You get hungry or thirsty, help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen, even if it’s the middle of the night. Got it?”

Dion nodded.

“All right. Let’s get you settled in.”