Graded in Red

Chapter Ten

Someone grabbed my shoulders and spun me about. I expected it to be the Captain, however, it was Jake.

"Umm, Maggie, if you need anything else just holler." Tom said as he turned away from me and Jake and headed towards the office.

"Jake?! What are you doing here?" I gasped between breaths; my heart was in my throat, and I couldn't seem to calm it down.

"I unexpectedly got a call from the Captain to come here and interview a suspect. What are you doing here?" He frowned down at me. "You aren't putting your nose where it doesn't belong, are you? You know it wouldn't have looked very well to my superiors had they come instead of me."

"I was here for my mom. She is working on some new project and wanted me to look into the metals that Mr. Bishop has here in the scrap yard." I couldn't believe how smoothly the practiced lie slid from my tongue to Jake.

"Really? You know what your mom's current project is, eh? If you did, you'd know that she is actually looking for recycling materials like cans, paper, and plastic. She wants to show the world that the things we consider as trash are still useful. That they can still be considered beautiful pieces." Jake's face was starting to get red, and I could see that he was shaking this close.

I hadn't spent enough time with my mom to know what she was currently working on. Apparently, Jake did. Why was he spending so much time with my family?

"Oh really? How do you know that?" I looked up at him, my eyes accusing him to call me the liar I was being.

"Because, I am at your parent's house every week, Maggie. Whether it is doing the lawn, tiding the garage, cleaning the gutters, or helping your dad on the cars, I am there every week." His voice rose as he started telling me everything that he was doing for my parents.

"Why are you doing all of that for them? They aren't invalids!" I didn't understand. There weren't any logical reasons that I could think of for him to be at their house every week.

"Whoa, hold up. You're at my parents' house every week? Doing what? They're not incapable of taking care of themselves." My brows furrowed. It was bizarre to imagine Jake consistently helping out at my folks' place.

He fumbled with his hair, tugging at the ends as though he could unravel his thoughts that way.

"It started after you left for college. I came by to apologize about prom. Your mom, well, she wasn't thrilled to see me, to say the least." He paused, clearing his throat.

Oh, that sounded exactly like my mom. She didn't mince words, especially when she was unhappy about something everyone in town gossiped about.

"And then what?" I leaned in, hanging onto his every word. It was puzzling; my parents hadn't mentioned a thing about this.

"Well, after your mom slammed the door, I turned around to leave, but your dad was in the garage, fixing the truck. He waved me over. I tried to apologize, but he just handed me a wrench, and we started working. Before I knew it, I was there for hours, and your dad even brought me a glass of water. He asked me to come back the next day."

Jake seemed to grimace, rubbing his temples like I was giving him a headache, which I probably was.

"So, you did all that?" I couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt. Why would my parents keep this from me?

"Yeah, I did. Initially, it was just working quietly or making small improvements around the house. Your mom started chatting with me, bringing refreshments while your dad and I worked. After I joined the police academy, they saw I was short on cash and started paying for the odd jobs. They didn't have to, but it was a little extra income. Even after graduating, I continued to help out."

"But why didn't I ever see you around? How did they manage to keep it from me for so long, especially after everything that happened between us?" My voice quivered as emotions surged. The betrayal stung deep.

"I deliberately avoided showing up during your visits. I didn't want to make things awkward. Look, I'm truly sorry for what happened that night. Your parents not telling you, that's something you need to discuss with them. Right now, I've got responsibilities, and I can't stick around to explain. But if you interfere with my investigation or deceive me again, I'll have to take official action. For now, I've got work to do."

He pushed passed me and headed for the office. He stopped and turned to me before going inside, "Mags, don't go and investigate this by yourself, okay? It's not safe. Someone was murdered and it seems like they are trying to place blame on you. Just go home." He didn't wait for me to respond to him, he sounded exhausted, but he turned back to the door and went inside.

I knew I wasn't finished with my own investigation but I had something else that had become a priority. I needed to talk to my parents. Why had they covered this up and lied to me?