a heroin addict and had been caught stealing from his employer.
He’d spent two years in prison, but upon release, he immediately hit the streets for drugs. According to his probation officer, he’d managed to get BJ in rehab instead of sending him back to prison, but he wasn’t hopeful the guy would last.
“I feel sorry for him,” Avery said as they entered the rehab clinic. “No doubt his past put him here.”
“Choices put him here,” Jaxon said in a brusque tone. “A lot of people experience trauma in their lives. Not everyone turns to drugs or violence to deal with it.”
“But he never had a chance.”
Jaxon shrugged. “You went through hell, but you didn’t turn to drugs or violence.”
Avery’s heart swelled at the admiration in his tone. Then again, he was giving her too much credit. She might not be an addict or a criminal, but she was scarred.
She’d never had a relationship with a man in her life. Never gotten close to anyone.
A receptionist greeted them and showed them to the director’s office. On both sides of the hall were rooms that resembled classrooms, and a medical office sat on the corner of the corridor. Another door led to an outside garden area, complete with a recreational area that included seating, card tables, an area for arts and crafts activities and a path that looked as if it led to the creek.
The director, Cam Sanders, was a middle-aged woman with wavy red hair and a kind smile but sad eyes.
Jaxon introduced himself and Avery and explained that he needed to talk to BJ.
“How is he doing?” Avery asked.
“He’s been here three weeks and finally settling in. But I’m not sure he’ll make it out on the streets by himself. He needs supervision and structure and doesn’t seem to be able to manage that on his own.”
She steepled her hands on the desk. “What is it you want to talk to him about?”
Avery glanced at Jaxon, and he indicated for her to take the lead.
“My brother is Hank Tierney.” She paused, giving Ms. Sanders time to process her statement. Recognition quickly dawned.
“I see. What do you and your brother have to do with BJ?”
“We lived in the same foster home, not at the same time, but BJ knew the man my brother was accused of killing.”
“Other than dredging up painful memories, what do you think you’ll accomplish by talking to BJ?”
Jaxon shifted. “We’re building a case to show that Wade Mulligan was abusive to the children under his care.”
The director buttoned her suit coat. “But Hank Tierney confessed, and proving Mulligan was abusive only confirms his motive.”
“Yes, but it also opens the door to others with motive, which could be enough to cast reasonable doubt on Hank,” Jaxon pointed out.
Irritation flashed in the woman’s eyes. “So you came here to ask BJ if he killed Mulligan?”
Avery’s stomach clenched. “No. We just want to know what happened with him and his sister.”
Ms. Sanders stood. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The counselor working with him said his traumatic past contributed to his addiction problems.”
“My brother’s life depends on us learning the truth,” Avery argued.
Jaxon crossed his arms. “Isn’t facing the truth imperative for a patient’s recovery?”
Ms. Sanders worried her bottom lip with her teeth, fidgeting as if she were debating the issue. “Let me speak to BJ’s counselor. If he agrees, I’ll let you talk to him.”
“Thank you,” Avery and Jaxon both murmured at once.
The woman’s heels clicked as she crossed the room and left. Jaxon paced to the window and looked out. The skies looked gloomy and gray, winter taking its toll as wind swirled dead grass and tumbleweed across the parking lot.
A second later, the director returned. “All right. Dr. Kemp says you can speak with BJ, but only in his presence.”
They followed the woman down a hall past several private rooms to a sunroom off the back that overlooked the creek.
A thin man in
He’d spent two years in prison, but upon release, he immediately hit the streets for drugs. According to his probation officer, he’d managed to get BJ in rehab instead of sending him back to prison, but he wasn’t hopeful the guy would last.
“I feel sorry for him,” Avery said as they entered the rehab clinic. “No doubt his past put him here.”
“Choices put him here,” Jaxon said in a brusque tone. “A lot of people experience trauma in their lives. Not everyone turns to drugs or violence to deal with it.”
“But he never had a chance.”
Jaxon shrugged. “You went through hell, but you didn’t turn to drugs or violence.”
Avery’s heart swelled at the admiration in his tone. Then again, he was giving her too much credit. She might not be an addict or a criminal, but she was scarred.
She’d never had a relationship with a man in her life. Never gotten close to anyone.
A receptionist greeted them and showed them to the director’s office. On both sides of the hall were rooms that resembled classrooms, and a medical office sat on the corner of the corridor. Another door led to an outside garden area, complete with a recreational area that included seating, card tables, an area for arts and crafts activities and a path that looked as if it led to the creek.
The director, Cam Sanders, was a middle-aged woman with wavy red hair and a kind smile but sad eyes.
Jaxon introduced himself and Avery and explained that he needed to talk to BJ.
“How is he doing?” Avery asked.
“He’s been here three weeks and finally settling in. But I’m not sure he’ll make it out on the streets by himself. He needs supervision and structure and doesn’t seem to be able to manage that on his own.”
She steepled her hands on the desk. “What is it you want to talk to him about?”
Avery glanced at Jaxon, and he indicated for her to take the lead.
“My brother is Hank Tierney.” She paused, giving Ms. Sanders time to process her statement. Recognition quickly dawned.
“I see. What do you and your brother have to do with BJ?”
“We lived in the same foster home, not at the same time, but BJ knew the man my brother was accused of killing.”
“Other than dredging up painful memories, what do you think you’ll accomplish by talking to BJ?”
Jaxon shifted. “We’re building a case to show that Wade Mulligan was abusive to the children under his care.”
The director buttoned her suit coat. “But Hank Tierney confessed, and proving Mulligan was abusive only confirms his motive.”
“Yes, but it also opens the door to others with motive, which could be enough to cast reasonable doubt on Hank,” Jaxon pointed out.
Irritation flashed in the woman’s eyes. “So you came here to ask BJ if he killed Mulligan?”
Avery’s stomach clenched. “No. We just want to know what happened with him and his sister.”
Ms. Sanders stood. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The counselor working with him said his traumatic past contributed to his addiction problems.”
“My brother’s life depends on us learning the truth,” Avery argued.
Jaxon crossed his arms. “Isn’t facing the truth imperative for a patient’s recovery?”
Ms. Sanders worried her bottom lip with her teeth, fidgeting as if she were debating the issue. “Let me speak to BJ’s counselor. If he agrees, I’ll let you talk to him.”
“Thank you,” Avery and Jaxon both murmured at once.
The woman’s heels clicked as she crossed the room and left. Jaxon paced to the window and looked out. The skies looked gloomy and gray, winter taking its toll as wind swirled dead grass and tumbleweed across the parking lot.
A second later, the director returned. “All right. Dr. Kemp says you can speak with BJ, but only in his presence.”
They followed the woman down a hall past several private rooms to a sunroom off the back that overlooked the creek.
A thin man in
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