“That’s neither here nor there to me. I just did what had to be done.”
I took my foot off the accelerator. The van slowed as I tried to piece together Jonah’s latest version of events. “How does this tie in to the buggered-up caravan?”
Jonah sighed. “It doesn’t, really. Least not on purpose. Dicky had stashed the gun in the caravan one night after we’d been on the whisky at the Legion, but he’d forgotten about it, see, ’cause his boy was home from the Navy. Then he sold me the van before he remembered.”
“And you totalled it on purpose? So he’d think the gun was destroyed?”
“Aye, lad. I buried it under my mattress for a while, but then he caught on that I’d pinched it and came looking. Course he couldn’t say what he was after to anyone that asked, but I knew.”
“Why did you bring it to the farm?”
“Because I knew it’d be the last place he’d think I’d stashed it. He’d come after me all right, but he wouldn’t think me daft enough to hide it so close to home.”
“The farm isn’t your home.”
I lit another cigarette. After so long without smoking, doubling up burned my lungs, but I welcomed the distraction. Tales like these were why I hated Jonah. I wanted to shake the shit out of him and call him a cunt, but he’d saved a horse, and that was the reason I’d been put on this earth. “You had no business being on the farm while I was gone.”
“Your sister asked me to.”
“Well she shouldn’t have.”
“She needed me.”
“Dex would’ve helped her.”
“He did. But the lad’s got his own stables to run.”
Dex also had the money to pay for help, and I knew he’d never have let the weak ponies suffer, but what about Shadow? Jonah had worked with him for the best part of a week and coached Emma on how to handle him better. The difference in him was startling.
I hated Jonah for that too.
We drove in silence until we got into town. When the police station came into view, I slowed to a crawl and then swung into a deserted car park. “You have to hand yourself in.”
“And say what?”
“That the gun is yours.”
“It’s not mine.”
“It’s not Harry’s either!” My shout rang out and I punched the dashboard. “Jesus, Dad. Will you just do as I need you to for once in my fucking life?”
I expected more argument, more guilt tripping, and perhaps even a trace of Jonah’s rare temper. But it didn’t happen. My father merely nodded, got out of the van, and walked away.
* * *
Harry
It was still dark when they let me out, but dawn wasn’t far off. I collected my phone from the desk sergeant and accepted a caution for wasting police time, and then I drifted out of the station to meet the drizzly early morning.
Joe was waiting for me with the van. He saw me coming and met me in the middle of the road. There was so much to say, but I didn’t know where to start. So I put my arms around him and held him close, inhaling the earthy scent that had grounded me from day one.
He returned my desperate embrace, his lean shoulders trembling. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen him cry, but it didn’t hurt any less. I tightened my grip on him but didn’t speak. What could I say? That I was sorry the police hadn’t believed me and given him more time? That I understood more than I wanted to how hard it was when your father let you down so badly?
“What happened?” I whispered. “Did you find your dad?”
Joe nodded against my shoulder, then pulled back, swiping at his bloodshot eyes. “Yeah. Can we go somewhere and talk about it? If I stare at the nick much longer, I’m going to burn it down.”
Tired but wired, I readily agreed and took Joe’s keys from him, following his directions out of town to a nearby village that, even in the darkness, wouldn’t have been out of place in the south of France. “This place is so pretty,” I said.