Kisscut

"What will happen to her, Mark?"

He shook his head, sobbing, "It's too late. No one can help her now."

"Do you know who could have taken her? Did you recognize the car?"

He shook his head again. "I want to see my mama."

Lena swallowed visibly, and Jeffrey could see that Mark's frailty was getting to her, too.

"I just want to see my mama," Mark repeated, his voice soft.

Dave Fine reached out to the boy, and Mark jerked away so hard that Buddy had to hold his chair to keep Mark from toppling over.

"Don't touch me!" Mark screamed, standing.

Lena stood, too, and half ran around to the other side of the table. She tried to touch Mark's arm, but he jumped away, nearly slamming into the wall. He backed into the corner of the room, putting his head into the angle of the walls. Lena put her hand on his shoulder, whispering something to him.

"Mark," Dave Fine said, holding up his hands. "Settle down, son."

"Why aren't you with my mother?" Mark demanded. "Where's your fucking God when my mother's dying?"

"I'll see her later tonight," Fine said, his voice shaking. "She wanted me to be here for you."

"Who was there for Lacey?" Mark demanded. "Who was there when some freak snatched her off the street?"

Fine looked down, and Jeffrey guessed the man was feeling the same guilt they all did about Lacey Patterson.

"I don't need you," Mark screamed. "Mama does. She needs you, and you're here with me like you can do something."

"Mark-"

"Go help my mother!" Mark screamed.

Fine opened his mouth to say something, then seemed to change his mind.

Mark shook his head, looking away. Lena put her hands on his shoulders and led him back to his chair.

Buddy rapped his knuckles on the table to get Jeffrey's attention, then indicated the door.

Jeffrey stood, indicating that Fine should stand as well. The preacher hesitated, then did as he was told, following Buddy out into the hallway.

"Goddamn," Buddy said, then apologized. "Sorry, Preacher."

Fine nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. He looked through the small window in the door, watching Lena talk to Mark. He mumbled, "I'll pray for his soul."

Buddy leaned heavily onto his crutch, asking Jeffrey, "What the hell is going on here, Chief?"

Jeffrey did not know how to answer. He asked, "Dave, can you make any sense of this?"

"Me?" Fine asked, surprised. "I have no idea. The last time I saw Mark, he seemed okay. Upset about his mama, but okay."

"When was this?" Jeffrey asked.

"The other night at the hospital. I was praying with Grace."

Jeffrey said, "What happened between you and Je

"Je

Jeffrey reminded him, "You said you dropped by a couple of times to see her around Christmas."

"Oh, right," Fine agreed. "Brad asked me to see her. She had stopped coming to church and he was worried something was wrong."

"Was there?"

"Yes. At least I think so," Fine answered, frowning. "She wouldn't talk to me. None of them would talk to me about anything."

"None of them meaning who?" Jeffrey asked.

Fine indicated the door. "Mark and Lacey. I talked to Grace about it, but she couldn't do anything with them at that point. Put it down to teenage rebellion, I guess." He shook his head sadly. "A lot of kids drop out of church at that age, but they usually come back when they get older. Grace was worried, though, so I talked to him."

"What did he say?" Jeffrey asked.

Fine colored. "Let's just say he used some words I wouldn't want his mama to hear and leave it at that."

Jeffrey nodded, letting it go. He had heard Mark enough times to know what the boy was capable of. He asked, "What about Grace? How is she doing?"

"She's very sick. I don't think she'll make it to the weekend."

Jeffrey thought about Mark wanting to see his mother. "It's that bad?" he asked.

"Yes," Fine answered. "There's nothing more that they can do for her at this point except try to make her comfortable." He glanced back through the window. "I don't know what this family is going to do without her. It's tearing them apart."

"You weren't on the youth retreat last Christmas, is that right?"

Fine shook his head. "I stayed here. I'm not really involved in the retreats; that's more the youth minister's job. Brad Stephens."

"I've talked to him already."

"He's a fine young man," Fine told them. "I hoped he'd serve as an example for some of the boys."

Jeffrey said, "You counseled Mark some, is that right?"

"A bit," Fine answered. "He didn't really open up. I can look over my notes and let you know if anything came up."

"Do that," Jeffrey told the pastor. "Where will you be tomorrow morning?"

"I suppose at the hospital," Fine told him, glancing at his watch. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to get back over there tonight, unless you have any more questions for me."

"You can go," Jeffrey said. "I'll be at the hospital around ten tomorrow morning. Have your notes."

"I'm sorry I haven't been much help," Fine apologized. He shook Jeffrey's hand, then Buddy's, before leaving.

Buddy watched the preacher go, then turned back to Jeffrey. "I don't much like whatever is going on between your detective and my client."

Jeffrey thought about feigning ignorance, but decided they were past that. "I'll put him on suicide watch tonight."

Buddy didn't buy it. "You still haven't addressed my concern."

Jeffrey looked back into the room. Lena had managed to get Mark to sit down, and she rubbed his back as he cried.

Jeffrey said, "This is co

"Aw, shit," Buddy cursed, stamping the floor with his crutch. "Thanks a lot for telling me that, Chief."

"I wasn't sure," Jeffrey lied. "You know he's the kid Weaver wanted to shoot."

"This seemed like a simple assault."

"It is," Jeffrey said. "I mean, it was."

"Wa

Jeffrey looked back into the room. Lena still had her hand on Mark's back, comforting him.

"Honestly, Buddy, I've got no idea what's going on."

"Start from the begi

Jeffrey tucked his hands into his pockets. "The baby we found at the skating rink," he said, and Buddy nodded. "We think Mark is the father."

Buddy kept nodding. "Makes sense."

"We think his sister might be the mother."

"One that's been taken?"

Jeffrey nodded. His gut clenched as he thought about Lacey Patterson and what might be happening to her.

Buddy said, "I thought Weaver was the mother."

"No," Jeffrey said. "Sara did the autopsy. Je

"I still haven't heard from Dottie Weaver," Buddy told him. "The mayor's sweating like a whore in church."

"She'll probably wait until the funeral's over," Jeffrey said, wondering when the funeral would be held. He doubted seriously that Sara would be invited, and she had not mentioned anything about it.

"I need to get your deposition in the next day or so, regardless," Buddy ordered. "We need to get it down on paper while it's fresh in your mind."

"I don't think it'll ever not be fresh in my mind, Buddy," Jeffrey said, thinking that he would carry Je

"What else is going on here?" Buddy asked. "Don't hold back on me."

Jeffrey tucked his hands into his pockets. "Mark has this tattoo on his hand."

"The heart thing?" Buddy asked.

"Yeah," Jeffrey confirmed. "It's a symbol for something."

"Kiddy porn," Buddy supplied, much to Jeffrey's shock.

"How do you know that?"

"I've got another client who has the same tattoo," Buddy said. "Some guy a couple of weeks ago over in Augusta. I took the case as a favor to a friend."