Burnington Gaol

T H I R T Y - E I G H T | Adeline

"Investigating a solved murder and consulting with a known killer? What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"He didn't do it, Dad." I said.

"And what makes you so sure? One little hair at a crime scene? That could've been left there by a detective or CSU for all you know! It proves nothing, especially when you consider the astounding amount of evidence pointing towards the Dawson Brothers."

I sprung up from the chair, stood between my father and my brother.

"And what evidence is that? Because I've seen the files. Even I could've planted what they found."

"Oh, yes. I know about your little arrangement with Grayson, and that will be dealt with accordingly." Dad paused. "I thought you were smarter than this. Than them."

"Have you even spoken to them? Not interrogated them – talked to them? Jimmy was a good man – "

"You met him once – at gunpoint!"

"He was a good man. And Frank, despite his faults, loved his family."

"Let me tell you something about Frank," my father said, leering over me with dark eyes. "Three years ago, some old detective buddies of mine found a young girl dead in the south of Burnington. She'd been on her knees, presumably begging for her life, and he shot her at point blank range, right after murdering her entire family in their own home. They matched the bullets to an unregistered handgun, which they found sometime later, covered in Frank's fingerprints. She was sixteen years old, younger than you are now. This is what you're dealing with, Adeline. This is the monster you protect."

My father rocked back on his heels, ran a hand through his thinning hair.

"You're both grounded until I think of a more deserving punishment."

Billy scoffed, rolled his eyes.

"Laugh all you want, boy, but this isn't like living in Aveen. You're living in a literal prison."

"Yeah, and it fucking feels like it, too." Billy snapped.

"Maybe so. But I will instruct every guard in the Gaol to not let you out, aside from taking you to the bus stop and making sure you get on the bus. I will tell the school that they are to call me when you arrive and when you leave. I will have a guard escort you in the school hallways if that's what it takes. But you will not investigate any further. Do you hear me?"

Billy shook his head. My father met my unflinching eyes.

"Do you hear me?"

My jaw clenched, eyes swelling. A bitter smile curled at the edges of my mouth.

"You couldn't stop me if you tried."

Dad, with his impressive height, leered over my small frame.

"Watch me."

© A.G. Travers 2018