Page 81 of What They'll Say About Us

"Ex-boyfriend," I said pointedly. "Liam mentioned he knew you, but only on the basketball court."

"Exactly. And you knew him much better, so I'm interested in what you have to say."

"Well, I thought I knew him well nine years ago. We were together most of our senior year. I knew how he took his coffee, what his favorite video game was, how lost he'd felt after losing his parents in a plane crash, how his grandfather had taken him in and raised him in the back room of his neighborhood bar, and how much Liam wanted to own a place just like that. He wanted a bar where he could bring people together over drinks and food and music, where they could be part of a community. He had a passion and a purpose very early on, and I responded to that, because I had my own ambition and focus. It felt like we were two creative people heading toward a bright future together."

"Why did you break up?"

"There were a lot of reasons. I was obsessed with the play, and I took my frustration out on Liam. After Paige died, I was completely overwhelmed. I had to step into her part. It felt horrible when it should have felt good. Everything was ruined. Her death ended all the good times for all of us. I don't know that anyone survived unscathed. The innocent ignorant bliss of our college years was wiped out by a tragedy that we couldn't understand."

"But you didn't even like her."

"We had once been friends before our egos took over, and I felt guilty that I'd been mean to her before she died, that I didn't answer her phone call that night."

"You never explained why you didn't want to talk to her. And I don't think it was because you were too busy to pick up the phone."

"I was afraid she was going to tell me she was with Liam or something else I didn't want to hear. We weren't talking to each other outside of rehearsal. I didn't see a reason to change that. In retrospect, I wish I had answered her call."

"Okay. Why do you think Liam didn't answer her texts?"

"He told me that he'd already spoken to her in person and made it clear that he was with me, and there wasn't going to be anything between them. He didn't want to get into it again, so he just didn't respond."

"Do you believe him?"

"I think so. He said he hadn't told me about the texts back then because he knew it would have made me angry, and he didn't want to set me off. I probably would have been furious if I'd known that Paige was flirting with him." I paused. "Let's change the subject. Tell me more about Cabot, not who he was as a cop, but who he was to you. Because I'd like to understand where you're coming from, Colton."

"Let's see…I grew up in the Howard Street Corridor, the roughest part of Evanston, and I met Vincent when I was sixteen. I was joyriding with some friends in a car I didn't know was stolen. We hit another car, and that got the police involved. Suddenly I was facing charges of grand theft auto. Cabot was a patrol officer at the time. He was smart enough to see I wasn't the ringleader; I was just an idiot kid, who didn't ask enough questions. He told me he would help me get out of that jam but only if I promised I'd get involved with a basketball league he ran. In other words, I owed him. I started showing up, and that promise, that league, changed my life."

"Seriously? Basketball changed your life?"

"It's not that strange. I needed something productive and competitive. I loved to run and to battle on the court. It gave me an outlet for all the frustrations I had in my family life that wasn't such a great place to be. Where I grew up, half the kids have a record by the time they're eighteen. I wanted to be on the other side of that statistic."

"So, Cabot started mentoring you when you were a teenager. No wonder you care about him so much."

"I respected him more than anyone in my life. He was a father figure. Mine spent a lot of his time in jail."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It was what it was. He wasn't a master criminal. In fact, he was usually doing a menial task for someone powerful and wasn't smart enough not to get caught."

"How does your family feel about you being a cop?"

"They didn't like it at first. Then they thought it would help them in some way. When that didn't work out, they went back to not liking it. Now, I think they just don't care anymore."

"You're not close?"

"I have a younger sister I'm close to here in Chicago. My mom and I stay in touch, but she moved to New Jersey a few years ago. I don't know where my father is. My younger brother is on a better path than he used to be. He met a girl who grows organic vegetables on a farm in central California, and he seems to have become a farmer."

"That sounds healthy."

"Anyway, where were we?" he asked.

"You and Cabot."

"He helped me get my first job, and I've been there for twelve years now. It's hard for me to believe he might have deliberately botched a murder investigation. It doesn't correlate with the man I thought I knew."

"One case might not change everything about him." I felt a strange need to make him feel better. "Maybe it was just one mistake."

"I'm not sure it was a mistake. That's the hardest part of this. I don't see how he was forced to do anything. He chose to do it. And that makes it worse." He blew out a breath. "Let's get back to you. How did you get into true crime podcasts?"