Page 62 of Four for a Boy

Tate’s gaze trailed down to his hand on the bed. He lifted it and studied his fingers. His fingernails were broken.

“I opened the door…I got myself out. Then they drove away.”

Ally perked up. “Do you remember any details of the car?”

Tate shook his head. “I was facing the other way. I didn’t see it, but the sound it made…it sounded like a deep growl, maybe a v8 engine.

“A translation for a non-car enthusiast?” Ally asked.

“It sounded like a big car, powerful engine. It took off fast. I don’t know how much time passed, but I tried to stand, but walking was difficult, and the lights overhead were so bright it hurt. Someone helped me to sit, and gave me water.”

Chad gestured to Tate’s chest. “Did the person with the mask leave a mark on you?”

“A mark?” Tate didn’t meet Chad’s eyes. “What kind of mark?”

“Of course, he left a mark.” Eleanor snapped. “He almost killed my son. That leaves a deep mark on him.”

“Yes. I didn’t mean….” Chad shuffled back and half-hid behind Ally.

“My son almost died.” Eleanor shook her head. “This person, whoever they are, killed one of his friend. Shame on them, and shame on Pete Jamerson for trying to profit out of it.” She turned to Tate. “You’re not working for him from now on.”

“I don’t want to work there anymore.”

“Is there anything else you can remember?” Ally asked. “No matter how insignificant it may seem, it might help with our investigation.”

Tate scrunched up his face. “Everything is blurry. It was dark, and then it was blinding, and then dark again before the streetlights were spinning above me.”

“How tall was the person in the gas mask?”

“Taller than me.”

“And his build?”

“Wider than me.” Tate took a deep breath from the mask. “I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not helping.”

“You are.” Ally whispered. “You’ve given us lots of useful details.”

Tate glanced at the door. “You think he’ll come after me again?”

“It’s precautionary.”

“That’s enough.” Eleanor glared at Ally. “He needs rest. This should’ve been done later, not as soon as he woke up.”

“Of course.” Ally nodded.

Tate held the mask to his face and took a deep breath. He looked up at his mum. “Is dad coming?”

“I…I left him a voicemail.”

He nodded, and scrunched his eyes shut. A tear leaked from the corner of his eye.

“Does it hurt?”

Tate nodded.

“The doctor said you could have some more painkillers for your throat and the headache soon.”

Ally got to her feet. “Thank you for your time. I hope you feel better soon, Tate.”

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