Page 15 of A Moment Too Late
The chief of police.
“Spence is a police officer?” I ask Mia in hushed tones as Spencer paces the living room.
Spencer was studying criminal justice. It’s not a stretch that he became a police officer, but he had always talked about going to law school. I envisioned him in the courtroom, his larger-than-life stature intimidating everyone until he opened his mouth.
“He went into the academy shortly after you left and was promoted to detective last year,” she explains, avoiding eye contact.
“Is he looking into Sam’s death?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“When he can. There have been no new leads, no breaks in the case, so they’re going to close it soon.”
No. They can’t. They need to find whoever did this to her. It’s not fair. Sam deserves justice. We deserve closure.
Anger begins to bubble beneath the surface, but I tamp it down. Getting worked up isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to make this weekend easier. Plus, I already went through that stage of grieving. I’m stuck on the final stage. Acceptance.
Clearing my mind, I let what Mia said sink in before composing myself and opening my eyes to the bigger picture. What is going on this weekend. Why I’m here.
“It’s why he was pushing me to come back and get closure because he knows I’d be notified that the case was officially closed.” Mia nods, tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mia. Being here again is hard. Don’t get me wrong. I missed you guys. I’m glad I got the chance to see you, but I don’t know if I can stay. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.”
“Don’t run away again, Andi. I get it, I really do, but I don’t think Spence really understands how you could walk away and never look back. Sam’s death changed all of us. He ran toward it, jumped in, wanting to do whatever he could to help.” She pauses, looking down to where her hands are clasped together in front of her. “Jay, too.”
“Jay?” I ask, his name coming out raspier than I anticipated.
The mention of his names causes my breath to hitch, my heart to race, and goosebumps to cover my arms. I still don’t know if he’s going to be here this weekend. I want to ask but I press my lips together instead, silencing myself. Saying his name was hard enough.
“Yeah. He went to the academy, too, only he was recruited to work for the government shortly after graduating. Something to do with security clearance and his degree. He can’t really say. I know his dad has some major pull but I’m not sure what. The plan was for both of them to stay here and work Sam’s case when they could. Jay left, and Spence was left to pick up the pieces all by himself.
“So, if you stay for no other reason than for Spencer, that’s fine. But please understand that he needs you right now. We all do. We’ve been facing this every day for the last five years and it’s about to be over. When that happens, it’ll be easier for everyone if we’re together.”
Together.
It’s the confirmation I need. Jay will be here this weekend. So, we can all say our final goodbyes as a united front. We’ll face it together, like we did when she died. Only this time, five years have passed, and we don’t really know each other anymore.
“I ...”
Words fail me as I stare into Mia’s pleading green eyes. More than anything, I want to confess all the things she doesn’t know. About what happened before Sam died. The secrets I’ve kept from all of them since leaving here. The fact that I, too, ran toward helping Sam, only I haven’t found the answers yet.
I didn’t want to say anything until I had information that could help.
And I don’t, which makes me feel like a complete failure.
“It’s okay,” Mia replies with the shake of her head as Spencer slides back onto his bar stool, tossing his phone on the counter. “What’s wrong, babe? You look frustrated.”
“The chief wants me to come down and sign the official paperwork to close Sam’s case.” Spencer chances a glance in my direction but avoids eye contact. I can see the weight on his shoulders growing heavier by the second. Closing Sam’s case will be a double-edged sword for him.
Same as it will for me.
The failure will outweigh the relief of having to relive that night over and over again.
“It’s your birthday. You’re on vacation this week. Did you tell him it would have to wait until Monday?”
Birthday? Shit. How could I forget?
“Yeah, and he’s not happy. He knows I’m in town. He knows what this weekend is. He thinks it would be better to close it now and announce that it’s closed at the dedication.”
The room falls silent as we all soak in the reality of Spencer’s statement. Confessing to the entire town that the person who murdered Sam has gotten off scot-free. That they’ll never be caught because we’re giving up.
No. I can’t let that happen. It’s not right. We can do better. Sam deserves better.