Hollow Grace

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ - ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

For the next half hour, the guy sat in the same office, silently waiting for girl. He amused himself by staring at the wall and counting the small imperfections in it. All this time, the sheriff was sitting next to Charlie, filling out some papers and watching Wright. He would have been happy to return to the cell, to his snoring neighbor who reeked of cheap alcohol, just to avoid sitting one-on-one with Lancaster. His habits and oppressive aura made Charlie nervous.

Casey lived up to all of Charlie's expectations and did even more than was necessary. Her appearance was so bright that he heard her ringing voice from the street. Casey practically burst into the station, demanding to speak to the sheriff and arguing with the officers who were trying to calm her down.

Feeling her fighting spirit, Wright felt a little calmer. Casey responded to his entreaty. Her mere appearance gave him a significant boost.

"What the hell..." the sheriff snorted, rising from his table. He looked out of the office and loudly addressed the police. "Who is this?"

He was answered by a firm male voice that Charlie had never heard in the station before.

"Visitors for Sheriff Lancaster."

"Damn," the man sighed softly, turning to Charlie over his shoulder. "Come in."

Within seconds, Casey was at the entrance to the office. Seeing Charlie, she waved cheerfully at him. Charlie got up from his chair and gestured back to her. Lancaster, standing between, looked at them both in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" the sheriff asked Casey and the man who had followed the girl. Judging by their strong physical resemblance, Wright had no doubt that this was Mr. Joel Kennedy. Casey's father.

Kennedy fixed a penetrating gaze on the boy. But unlike the sheriff, his eyes were kind, his gaze warm and soft. His presence was as calming as Casey's support. According to Casey herself, her father owned a huge number of establishments in addition to his construction company. Charlie imagined Mr. Kennedy as a formidable business shark with a steel character and a stern appearance. But reality was far from his expectations. Joel gave the impression of a virile, but very phlegmatic man.

"And hello to you too," Casey said, squeezing past Lancaster into the office. "We came to visit. How are you?"

"Hello, Eric," Mr. Kennedy approached the sheriff and extended his hand. The sheriff glanced at his palm, but instead of shaking hands, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

"I'm really busy. And I don't understand what you're both doing here, so let's get straight to the point. What's all the fuss about?"

"Uncle is out of sorts as usual," Casey stretched out, shielding Charlie with her body. "You caught the wrong guy, didn't you?"

"This is right one, pretty sure. Look at him, a real criminal element."

"Just an ordinary boy. What did he do, smoke weed in an alley, drink a beer?"

"It's just a Joker's makeup, Uncle Eric. And today is Halloween. It's very easy to get confused."

Wright was stunned, listening to this dialogue. Casey had twice said 'uncle', and it didn't seem like she had misspoken. And her father was acting a bit too familiar for a simple townsman, even such an influential one. Could they really be related?

"Oh, I think I get it," Lancaster drawled. "Wright called one of you and whined about ending up here."

"Thanks, you saved a lot of time that we could have spent on explanations," Casey said, and immediately turned to Charlie. "How are you, okay? Did they beat you? Did they read your rights?"