Page 54 of His Worst Crime

David nodded. “I didn’t know how to get him to go.”

“Is there something you need to tell me?”

David nodded again. “The night you saw me in the stables, Ned had wanted me to go up there. He wanted tools, bolt cutters and the like, so he could set himself up for burglaries. But there was no way I was going to do that. I wouldn’t steal from Carme, not after everything she’d done for me. I went up there to throw him off the scent, but it was really just to say goodbye to Boira and the other horses. Then I was going to grab my stuff from Plaça Reial and hitchhike out of town for good, get right away. Start again down south, far away from Ned, and even farther from a particular cop who I couldn’t stop thinking about. And then… there you were. And you offered the same… to take me south. So it felt like fate. I was meant to leave, go with you. I just didn’t realize I’d be leaving behind such a mess… for me… and for you. I’m sorry, Ramon. I should have confessed before this.”

Ramon walked up to the head of the bed, and took his Davey’s hand.

“Just swear to me that you were never planning to do anything illegal with him… or with anyone.”

“I swear, Ramon.” And David’s blue eyes were dark with intensity. “I swear on… the memory of our Mam, I did never and will never ever get involved… or intend to get involved with anything crooked. That Ned, he’s one of our Owen’s friends. He’s bad news, and I’ve never wanted anything to do with him.”

“I believe you, Davey. I’m sorry, but I just needed to hear you say it. I risked my job for your innocence. And I knew you were innocent, even when the evidence seemed to point otherwise… so, I do believe you. We just needed to say that out loud, didn’t we?”

David nodded and pulled him close. “We did.”

Ramon encircled him with his arms, and they stayed that way, silent, for long moments.

When Davey and Ramon pushed through the hospital’s glass doors, the early summer midday sun struck them like a bar of incandescent iron after the many days they’d spent in the hospital’s air-conditioned environment.

“Wow, that’s hot!” Davey breathed. “I never knew how fierce the sun is here.”

“And this is just the start,” Ramon said. “I’d forgotten you arrived in winter. It gets worse. Have you never been here in summer?”

“Once, when I was just a tyke, about seven I think, but I don’t remember it being like this.”

“The summers have been getting hotter. Do you want to wait inside, and I’ll bring the truck around the front?

“Nah, I’m good. I just want to get rid of this hospital.”

“Lean on me if you want.”

But Davey preferred to walk determinedly on his own two legs, even though Ramon knew that the discharge and leave-taking from Mariona and Saïd had sapped more energy from him than he’d wanted to admit. But he said nothing, merely nodding and matching Davey’s leisurely pace up toward the rear of the hospital where he was parked.

Perhaps a worse leave-taking had been the one between Davey and his father. Mr. Howard had wanted to take his son back to Ravenscragg to recover once he was ready to be discharged. Ramon had not wanted to interfere in the wishes of Davey’s family, so he’d been relieved when Davey had refused point blank.

“No, not Ravenscragg, not yet,” Davey had told his brooding dad. “I will come home, but I don’t think that’s the best place for me to recover just yet. Too many memories.”

“With Owen gone, I’ll need you… or someone,” his father had grumbled. “Blaze and Smart Alec are running to seed. Plus the place needs that much work…”

“Get someone from the village for this summer. Use a bit of the money on our Mam’s data stick. I’ll be back, I promise, but I need to… do a few things before I come home.”

Ramon had waited for the older Howard to leave, before asking:

“So, what do you want to do? Carme’s offered to put you up. I have space at my Barcelona place… and also—“

“Yeah, down there,” Davey had said, his eyes fixed on Ramon, the blue intense and insistent in a way Ramon had missed and never dared to hope he might see again. “I want to ride along the Trabucador again,” Davey declared.

Not the best cure for concussion, Ramon thought, though he said nothing aloud. To have Davey with him down at his masia was an almost impossible dream. Almost.

When they finally reached Ramon’s truck, Davey’s only shocked comment was:

“You’ve cleaned it.”

“Cheeky brat,” Ramon growled, as he opened the passenger door and helped Davey in. “Seat belt, this time.”

Once Davey was settled, he got in and drove carefully out of the hospital and onto the Ronda de Dalt, in the direction of the AP7 heading south. He was worried what Davey’s reaction might be to taking the freeway once again so soon after his accident, but the guy didn’t seem hugely traumatized. Though once they were clear of Barcelona, he rolled down the window some, to let salt air enter the cabin.

“That’s better,” Davey breathed. This feels like coming home finally.”