Page 130 of Too Close To Home

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Because you believe Andy?”

“I didn’t say that. But he’s put it on record in an interview.”

“He’s desperate.” Jake let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “He’ll say owt if it gets you looking somewhere else.” He paced a step. “And he’s pointing the finger at me because I threatened him back then. Cause I weren’t nice about it. But fuck… I were eighteen, trying to stop some creep hanging around my house. And aye, I put him through a wall when she went missing. I paid for that. But now he’s spinning it into summat else. Throwing shit around so you chase your tail while he sits there knowing summat. And fuck—I hoped you’d be different.” He scrubbed his face hard, then dropped his hand in remorse. “Didn’t think those stupid village rumours would make it as far as you. Just because my sister got pregnant young don’t mean we’re what he’s saying we are.”

“Hey.” Harrison stepped in, catching Jake’s arm. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

Jake stilled, more from the contact than the words.

“I’m not here because I believe him.” Harrison tightened his grip. “But I do have to account for it. Anything raised in interview has to be explored or ruled out. If I ignore it and it turns out to be relevant later, the defence tears the case apart.”

“So that’s why you’re here? Covering your arse.”

“I’m building a case that stands up in court.”

Jake tipped his head, studying him. “You could’ve looked all this up. Did you really need to come all the way here to make me feel like shit? To see this?” He gestured at the flat. “This version of me ain’t for you.”

Harrison let go of Jake’s arm and wiped a hand across his forehead. “Perhaps I should have.”

“Should have what?”

“Handled this from the office.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Harrison met his gaze for barely a second before glancing away. “It helps to speak to people face-to-face.”

Jake snorted softly. “That’s a good detective answer.”

“I’m a good detective.”

Jake cocked his head. “But that’s not all you are, is it?”

Jake could almost hear the argument going on behind his eyes. Professional. Personal. One pushing against the other. And he looked down at the shitty floor again, as if he might leave it there.

Jake weren’t having that. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Harrison did.

Christ…there was nothing in those eyes Jake had braced for. No judgement. No quiet assessment of the mess, the narrowness of his life. Just a look that had no business being in a detective’s eyes.

Jake swallowed, then held his ground. “What do you see, then, Detective?”

“You want the honest answer?”

“You spend your life looking for the truth.” Jake tilted his neck. “Only fair you give it.”

“I see a man who’s angry. Who’s been angry for a very long time.”

Jake didn’t move. “What else?”

A beat passed.

“I see someone who’s spent years trying to convince people of the truth...” Harrison’s eyes searched his. “...and wondering why nobody believes him.”

Jake’s chest squeezed. “And?”

Harrison’s jaw flexed. Then he closed his eyes for the briefest moment, as though the next answer was the one he couldn’t afford to give.