Back To Our Roots, Book One

XXXVII. Haha... That's Not Copper, Bud

"Alright, so, what's the plan?" Nathan asked, nervous yet excited.

"Your job is to follow me around, check out the house with me, and leave question answering to me. It's most likely nothing, it usually is."

"Alright. Got it."

The other officer sighed. "And please, at least try to look intimidating. Pretend you're talking to that guy you always get angry at over the phone."

That thought sobered Nathan up immediately. His fingers tapped nervously on his jeans, the denim muting the sound.

"Something wrong, kid?"

"Just... 'that guy' is my father," he said softly.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No. It was my younger brother that he hated, he loved me and my older brother." He paused. "But you don't want to hear about my family problems. They're hardly problems, compared to some people's lives."

They were both quite for a minute, before the officer spoke up.

"There was a kid, transferred here a few years back. When they found him, he was running. Curfew had passed, they asked him what he was doing out so late. Poor thing stepped out into the light of the streetlamp, covered in cuts, blood and bruises, even limping a bit. But he answered, cool as you please, that he was running from his father. They asked 'im why. He said it was 'cause he was next, that his father had just murdered his mother and baby sister. Couldn't have been more than twelve or thirteen, speaking about this like he was resigned to it. He didn't expect us to immediately help. He asked if we could. Just politely, running for his life, asked for a bit of help. You know, I never did find out what became of him," he added thoughtfully. "But he didn't get help because he knew it could be worse. He only got help when his life was on the line. It can always get worse, kid. Sometimes you just have to stop comparing your situation to others' and get help."

As awful as his story was, Nathan couldn't help but smile. "Sebastian Smythe, right?"

"How'd you know?" he asked, surprised.

"Because he goes to Dalton Academy, with my brother." Nathan grinned, remembering the enthusiastic phone call with Matt. "They're boyfriends, actually."

The officer smiled. "Well, I'm glad he's doing well now." He pulled up in front of a house. "We're here."

Nathan took in a breath and composed himself, exiting the car.

He followed the officer up the steps, waiting beside him as he knocked.

"Who in the world is up at this hour?" an irritated voice mumbled, opening the door.

The man immediately straightened his annoyed expression when he saw the two officers at his door. Well, he couldn't tell Nathan was an officer-in-training.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" he asked charmingly, shaking their hands.

"Sir, I'm Officer Jameson. My colleague and I are here on behalf of CPS, we received a call concerning this residence. We'd like to take a look around." He held up the warrant.

The man stepped aside, letting them in. "Well, I hate to waste your time, but go ahead."

"I suppose we'll be out of your hair in no time, then."

Jameson headed upstairs, while Nathan looked around a bit. Something was off.

He walked closer to the front door. Did something smell like copper?

Looking around, he saw a door that had been covered up when the front door opened.

He opened it softly, seeing a faint light down at the end of the staircase. Quietly moving down the steps, he realized it was coming from the crack underneath a door.

The smell of copper got stronger.

He gently pushed open the door, which must have been hastily shut as it wasn't closed all the way.

Stepping inside, he wrinkled his nose at the intense smell of copper. It was like sticking his face in a pool full of pennies.

There was a bed in one corner of the room, a boy with his day clothes still on asleep above the covers.

Not wanting to disturb him, Nathan turned to the other door in the room and pushed it open.

The smell got even stronger. Except he realized it wasn't copper.

It was blood.

The room was a bathroom, a fully stocked first aid kit still open in one corner. The floor, sink, and parts of the walls had blood splatters.

He stepped out of the bathroom, taking a closer look at the boy.

His face rung a distant bell, Nathan hearing the cautious and anxious tone in his voice.

"Nathan, the CPS brother?"

What did Matt say his name was?

Nathan shook his head slightly. Not important.

The boy's cheek was bruising, a bandage soaked through with blood over part of it.

Nathan left the room, heading up to find Jameson. He kept a poker face, as if he hadn't seen anything.

He found him upstairs, neither residents of the house in sight.

"Where'd you disappear to? I've checked both floors, I told you it was a false alarm."

"There's a basement," Nathan said lowly and urgently. "And there are not good things in that basement."