CHAPTER 36
Hong walked ahead. Snow crunched soothingly beneath his boots. Quick, confident steps up the stairs — and three clear, measured knocks on the door.
A brief smile flickered across Rick’s lips. Not long ago, Billy would have shifted nervously from foot to foot, but now there was more confidence in him, more inner strength.
It hadn’t been long since their last visit to Detective Harrison Young, but to Rick it felt as though an entire lifetime had passed.
So much had happened that it was hard to fit it all into his head. Fox, Cooper, the attempted murder… and them.
At the last word, Rick stole a glance at Lake standing beside him and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.
His fingertips could still feel the warmth of Aaron’s palms.
As soon as the knocking stopped, something stirred behind the frosted glass. A shadow darted toward the window, and a second later Young’s hunched figure appeared behind the curtain.
He peered out and narrowed his eyes. The fingers gripping the edge of the curtain trembled slightly. Something resembling worry flashed across his face for a moment, but a second later Young disappeared from view.
“What do you think,” Hong mused, turning toward them, “will he open?”
“He will,” Lake replied without a trace of doubt.
“All right,” Billy breathed.
He touched the officer’s badge at his belt and smiled faintly.
Warmth spread through Rick’s chest.
The sound of the lock turning came a good thirty seconds later. The door opened only halfway.
Young looked exhausted: unshaven, hollow-cheeked, wearing a rumpled sweater.
“What the hell do you want now?” he rasped.
“We need to talk,” Lake replied calmly.
Young stared at him for several seconds, then shifted his gaze to Rick and Billy.
“Make it quick,” he muttered, reluctantly opening the door wider. “I’ve got things to do.”
He stepped aside, letting them in.
The house greeted them with the smell of dust, old wood, and stale coffee, as though someone had poured a cup and never finished it. Dim light filtered through the heavy curtains, falling in thin strips across the floor.
Billy followed Young farther into the house first.
Almost nothing had changed since their last visit: creaking floorboards, boxes, stacks of papers, old dishes, and forgotten odds and ends scattered throughout the rooms.
Only now, for some reason, Rick looked at the mess differently.
Photographs hung on the wall. Some showed young people in wedding clothes. Rick’s gaze stopped on one photograph, and it took him a moment to recognize Young.
It was hard to believe that this young man, with his open smile and gentle eyes, had once been the same person they were facing now.
His wife stood beside him.
They looked happy.
Rick lingered over the photograph a little longer than he meant to.
The house was too quiet for a place where two people had once lived.
He shifted his gaze farther around the room. No belongings that suggested anyone else lived there, no photographs from recent years. Only old pictures, dust, and the feeling that everything here had been left in the past a long time ago.
“Come on,” Aaron said quietly, noticing that Rick had fallen behind.
Rick looked at him.
Aaron was standing by the doorway to the living room, waiting for him.
Only a few seconds, nothing special. But the fact that Aaron had actually waited for him sent a strange warmth through his chest. Rick felt his cheeks betray him with a flush and immediately looked away.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, following him.
Young dropped heavily into an old armchair, which groaned under his weight.
“Sit if you want. Stand if you want. I don’t care.”
Rick noticed the fingers of his left hand drumming restlessly against the wooden armrest.
“Well? Why so quiet?” he rasped. “I’m listening.”
Parker and Hong sat down on the couch. Billy took his phone from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table, then pulled out a notebook.
Lake didn’t sit down right away. He silently looked at Young, then walked over to the chair opposite him and lowered himself into it.
“You know why we’re here.”
Young went still, studying him carefully.
“Not hard to guess, Detective Lake,” he said with a faint smirk.
“Not hard to guess, Detective Young,” Lake replied calmly.
Young nodded, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“The Catherine Brown case?”
Lake nodded.
“The Catherine Brown case.”
“God…” Young sighed and rubbed his forehead as though trying to ease a headache. “You still haven’t let this go? I told you: all the information is in the report.”
“Not all of it.” Aaron leaned forward slightly and laced his fingers together. “We want to know why it was closed.”
Young shrugged.
“It’s right there in the report. Because there wasn’t enough evidence to continue the investigation.”
“That’s the official version. I’m asking what really happened.”
The clock on the wall sounded unnaturally loud in the silence. Rick glanced involuntarily at its face, then turned his attention back to the conversation.
Young’s left hand was still resting on the armrest, but his fingers had stopped moving.
“That’s exactly what happened.”
“I don’t think so.”
Young lifted his chin slightly.
“What do you think happened?”
Lake didn’t answer right away. He simply continued looking at him.
“If it had been that simple, you would have closed the case sooner.”
Silence settled over the room again.
Rick noticed Young’s jaw tighten.
“You were a detective,” Aaron continued calmly. “You know what I mean.”
The corner of Young’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.
“Was.”
“Exactly.”
Young gave a small laugh, but there was no amusement in his eyes.
“I’m retired. If I want to answer, I’ll answer. If I don’t, nobody can make me. You know that?”
“I do.” Lake narrowed his eyes slightly. “Want me to come back next time with a warrant?”
Rick shivered involuntarily. Not because of the threat itself, but because of how calmly it had been delivered.
Young’s expression changed.
He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees, and laced his hands together—almost exactly mirroring Lake’s posture.
The room fell silent.
“You’re still the same little asshole,” he said at last.
“Yep. Still the same.” The corner of Aaron’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. “You understand what that means?”
Young nodded slowly.
“I do.”
Lake tilted his head slightly.
“The warrant is only a matter of time.”
Rick, who had remained silent until then, leaned forward slightly.
“Detective Young, we just want to understand what happened.”
Young leaned forward as well. Rick could feel the old man studying each of them carefully, as though trying to figure out how far they had already gotten.
“You won’t prove anything,” he said finally. “And even if you do, the statute of limitations ran out a long time ago.”
Billy looked up from his notebook.
“So you’re confirming that the case wasn’t closed because the investigation reached a dead end?”
Young gave a slight shake of his head.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you didn’t deny it either,” Billy pointed out calmly.
The corner of Young’s mouth twitched.
“Well, well. This pup really is sharp.”
His gaze slid to the badge at Billy’s belt and lingered there.
“And how many of these do you have around you now, Lake?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Aaron replied calmly.
Billy said nothing and lowered his eyes to his notebook again.
Rick let out a quiet huff of amusement, then immediately grew serious.
“Is it connected to someone asking you to close the case?” he asked.
Young looked at him carefully, then rolled his eyes and tiredly rubbed a hand over his face.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No,” Aaron replied.
“I figured.”
Lake’s eyebrow slowly rose.
“The statute of limitations won’t save you if the case is reopened.”
“Watch your wording, kid.” Young pointed a finger at him. “I just filed reports about a missing person. Nothing more.”
“I remember that day, Detective Young,” Rick continued. “And I remember whose visit made you call off our questioning.”
The old man narrowed his eyes and leaned forward slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed.
Rick nodded as though he accepted the answer and fell silent for a moment.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
A muscle in Young’s cheek twitched again.
Rick and Aaron exchanged a brief glance.
“The person who asked you to call off the case and the person who asked for help transferring ownership of the sawmill—are they the same person?” Lake asked in the same calm voice.
Young didn’t answer. The fingers on the armrest tightened.
Billy froze, his notebook still open.
“We’re not accusing you of anything,” Rick continued more quietly. “And we understand perfectly well that there are things you can’t say out loud. But a simple nod will be enough for us.”
Silence filled the room again.
No one moved.
Suddenly, the phone on the coffee table vibrated briefly.
Young flinched so sharply that Rick tensed involuntarily.
Billy looked at the screen and immediately switched the phone to silent.
“Sorry,” he said quietly.
Young said nothing.
His gaze lingered on the phone for a moment before returning to them.
“Seems you boys don’t understand how serious this situation is,” he snarled angrily, rising to his feet.
“And I’m not going to explain anything to you.”
He pointed toward the door.
“But, Mr. Young,” Billy began, rising from the couch.
“No. Out!”
Billy had already opened his mouth to argue, but Rick stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Officer, I think Detective Young has had enough of us. We’ve already taken up too much of his time.”
Confusion flickered across Billy’s face, but he said nothing.
“Lake,” Young called suddenly, motioning him over. “A word.”
Rick immediately looked at Aaron. His brow furrowed, and the mere change in his expression made something inside Rick tighten unpleasantly. His fingers instinctively tightened around the edge of his jacket.
Aaron noticed his look.
“Wait outside. I’ll be right there,” he said calmly.
Rick slowly exhaled and nodded.
Lake followed Young into the kitchen.
From the hallway, Rick could no longer hear their conversation. Instead, his gaze involuntarily lingered on the kitchen table.
It was set for one.
A plate with a cooling lunch. Half-finished coffee — probably from that expensive machine they had seen last time. A single set of silverware.
Rick suddenly realized that they had arrived right around lunchtime.
Young ate here alone.
Something unpleasant stirred inside him at the thought.
Before following Billy toward the exit, Rick glanced toward the kitchen one last time. Lake’s tall figure had already disappeared through the doorway. He had slipped his hands into his pockets and was standing opposite Young.
Billy stepped into the hallway first, and Rick followed him. A few seconds later, the front door slammed shut.
In the kitchen, Young flinched almost imperceptibly and listened for a moment.
Aaron had heard it too, but he didn’t turn around.
A drop fell from the faucet and struck the metal sink.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Young hissed under his breath. “Stop. Right now!”
“No.”
Young let out a short breath through his nose.
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“I do.”
“No, you fucking don’t, Lake!”
He stared at him for several seconds, then turned away and ran a hand over his face.
“If you want to put your own life on the line, that’s your business. If you want to get yourself into this shit, go ahead!”
He pointed sharply toward the window.
“But why are you dragging them into it?”
His hands tightened involuntarily inside his pockets.
Young turned back to him.
“Their lives are your direct responsibility!”
Lake took a step forward.
“You think I don’t understand that, Young?” he hissed, leaning toward him slightly. “I understand it better than you do.”
“Then what the hell is the problem?” Young whispered sharply. “Just keep them out of it and be done with it!”
“The problem is that it’s their choice.”
“Bullshit!”
Young waved a hand sharply and began pacing around the kitchen again.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“The people you’re going after will shove your truth straight up your ass!”
Young stopped and shot him an angry look.
“People like us are nothing more than specks of dirt on their boots.”
The kitchen fell silent again. Somewhere nearby, an old refrigerator hummed monotonously.
“If they decide to come after you — and they will — they’ll start with them.”
The old man moved toward him again, but this time stopped several steps away.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself and act like a man for once,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Put an end to this before it gets any further.”
Aaron ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.
His eyes narrowed.
“So that’s what you did last time,” he said irritably. “With Katie? You put an end to it?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I did! You should be grateful to me for making sure the city got off with minimal casualties back then.”
Aaron froze.
“So you do know what happened to her after all?”
“No. I never found out! They made it perfectly clear to me that the case needed to be dropped. And I’m telling you the same thing: drop it!”
Aaron clenched his teeth tighter.
He was silent for several seconds, then turned toward the exit.
“Thanks for the advice, Detective Young,” he said dryly. “I’ll take it from here.”
“You’ll regret your decision, Lake!” Young barked.
Aaron didn’t stop.
“If those boys matter to you, then this”—Young spread his hands, indicating the empty kitchen—“is the best possible outcome for you!”
***
The cold wind picked up again, and Rick only huddled deeper into himself. He tucked his head down between his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest.
“Didn’t he seem strange to you?” Billy suddenly asked.
“Young?”
“Yeah.”
“Not any stranger than usual,” Rick shrugged. “Though maybe a little more on edge. Why?”
He looked at the thoughtful young man. Billy ran his eyes over his notes once more, reading each line carefully.
“I was just thinking,” he began. “You were being watched. Fox’s people.”
Rick’s throat tightened unpleasantly.
“What if Young is being watched too?.. What do you think?”
Rick didn’t answer right away. He thought for a moment.
Small snowflakes fell from the sky, gathering into a soft white cap on the porch railing.
“Maybe,” he finally said.
A barely noticeable smile appeared on his lips.
“Maybe they’re watching him right now,” he added a little more quietly, bringing his hands to his mouth and blowing into them to warm his fingers.
At that moment, the front door opened. Billy flinched instinctively, while Rick merely turned his head, still hiding his face in his hands.
Lake stepped out silently, closing the door behind him, and lingered on the porch for a few seconds. Rick immediately noticed that his expression had changed. His gaze remained tense, and his jaw was clenched more tightly than usual.
Aaron met his eyes, held his gaze for a second, and only then nodded toward the car.
Rick answered with the same brief nod and lowered his hands. Billy didn’t ask anything either.
They had spent no more than half an hour in the house, but the interior of the car had already gone cold. Rick rubbed his hands together and pulled the sleeves of his jacket almost all the way over his fingers.
Aaron silently started the engine.
For a while, they drove in silence.
Rick stared out the window.
For some reason, the table set for one still wouldn’t leave his mind. He tried to push the thought away when he suddenly felt warmth gradually spreading through his back.
At first, Rick didn’t even understand where it was coming from. He frowned, glanced at the dashboard, and froze.
The seat heaters were on for both him and Billy.
His chest suddenly felt tight.
He glanced surreptitiously at Aaron. He was watching the road as though nothing unusual had happened.
Rick remained still for several seconds, then just as inconspicuously reached toward the controls and turned on the driver’s seat heater.
Gray-blue eyes followed his movement attentively, but Aaron said nothing.
***
Dusk was already settling outside the precinct windows. The gray strips of sky gradually darkened, and footsteps of those hurrying home echoed through the corridors more and more often. Someone slammed a locker shut, someone gathered papers, someone yawned wearily as they pulled on a jacket.
The day was slowly coming to an end.
Before leaving, Aaron asked them and Billy to wait in his office and said he would be back soon.
Rick took advantage of the moment and settled into his chair, crossing one leg over the other.
The office was quiet. The soft light of the desk lamp fell across the desk. A mug stood nearby, while neatly stacked documents, several sheets covered in notes, and a pen left on top of a folder lay at the edge.
Everything was in its place.
For some reason, it made him feel calm.
Billy settled onto the couch, picked up an old tennis ball from the shelf, and thoughtfully tossed it into the air.
“Still, don’t you think Young is holding something back?” he asked without looking at Rick.
The ball made a quiet smack against his palm.
Rick stared at the ceiling for a while, making himself more comfortable in the chair.
“Of course I do,” he finally replied. “He didn’t give us a single straight answer.”
Billy tossed the ball again and caught it with one hand.
“Yeah. But that’s not all.”
He fell silent for a moment, thinking.
“It just feels like something’s wrong.”
Rick turned his head toward him.
“Work instinct?”
“Yeah.”
Billy caught the ball and simply held it in his palm for several seconds.
The office fell silent again. Someone passed through the hallway outside, muffled laughter could be heard, and then everything went quiet.
Rick settled a little deeper into the chair.
“Then we’ll keep digging.”
