Untold Damage Read Online Free Page A

Handed it to her. “I’m going to go talk to Hal, okay?”
    She nodded absently, eyes staring down into the cup in front of her. Maybe she was watching some old memory of her son as a little boy. Before he ever became a cop. Or an addict.
    The den door wasn’t shut all the way. Mallen wondered how much of their conversation might’ve been overheard. The huge old desk was still there, taking up one entire corner. The blinds were drawn tight, leaving the light from the outside world dull and gray. Old bowling trophies glinted in the weak light.
    Hal Russ sat in the big faded leather easy chair he’d owned since way before Eric had been born. The man only appeared as a vague shadow in the dimness. Head was down on his chest. Like he was sleeping. There was a slight glint from a half-empty bottle on the side table near the chair. He thought Hal might really be asleep, but then the man spoke.
    â€œMallen,” he said quietly as he raised his head. His voice was wasted. Tired and thready, like from shouting at the world. “Wondered if you’d show. Hoped you would, actually.”
    â€œYeah?”
    â€œYeah. You went through the academy with him. That bonds guys together, doesn’t it? Like going through boot camp.”
    â€œVery much like that, true.”
    â€œHe’d be glad to know you came by,” Hal said, adding, “I heard about … your troubles. Eric had kicked it, you know? Worked hard to do that.”
    â€œWell, he had that strength, and then some.”
    â€œHe did,” Pride there now. But it sounded like being proud of the Titanic .
    Mallen walked over to the bottle. Glanced at Hal, who nodded. “Be my guest, Mallen.” He poured a half glass of whatever it was. Didn’t care at this point, just needed it. The vials were yelling at him for attention. He wanted to quiet them. Needed to, while he was here.
    â€œHal,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and strong, “he had vials in his pocket, along with my address. We hadn’t talked for a long, long time. Have to wonder if the police will be coming up with leads. You know why he’d have my address in his pocket?”
    The man’s soft chuckle filled the space between them. “You know, you still sound like a cop. I think that makes me happy, Mal.”
    â€œYou can take the junkie out of the cop, but you can never take the cop outta the junkie. Or so they say, anyway.” He made a silent toast, regretting his choice of words. To his surprise, Hal held up his glass, and the two men drank one in silence.
    Hal then adjusted his large stomach. “So, you came by to offer condolences?”
    â€œYeah. And any help you might need. You know, if he wanted to talk to me, well …” he took another sip of his drink, “well, to be honest, I wish I hadn’t missed out on the chance.” And he was being honest. The longer he stood there, the more he wished he hadn’t missed out on the one last chance to talk with his old friend. Maybe he could’ve … but no, that was for people who could actually do shit. Accomplish things. Not for junkie burnouts. “I guess I’m just looking for answers, like the rest of the fucking world.”
    â€œAnswers,” Hal echoed. “I heard those were extinct.”
    â€œMaybe,” Mallen responded as he took another sip from his glass, feeling the alcohol in his system now. “But I recently heard the state of their demise has been greatly exaggerated.”
    Hal laughed silently. Held up his drink in another toast. Drained it with a gulp.
    â€œI’m getting the impression he was trying to turn his life around,” Mallen said.
    â€œHad,” came the firm, definite response. “He had turned his life around, damn it. Was doing fine. Just fine. Working on getting back with Jenna. Looking for work. Everything.”
    â€œWhat do you think happened then? An old score, settled?