"No," Hal replied. "It was a year ago. Today." He ran his hand over his head, ruffling his hair. "Jesus!"
"You know this guy, Dr. O'Toole?"
"No, but Morgan and Hal do."
"You want to press charges?"
Tanya eyed Morgan and Hal. "I don't think so. Keep an eye on him, pick him up and talk to him."
"If the worst I get is a rock in my window, I'm not locking the kid up," Morgan said. "I hated the doctor who tried to save my mother. If I'd been old enough, I'd have put a brick through his window, too. I didn't know then—what we go through. All that guy sees is this huge, gaping hole in his life, and he blames us."
The police officers nodded.
"We'll see if we can find him, Doc," the one with the laptop assured Hal. "You wanna talk to him when we do?"
"Yes. I can't take the pain away, but maybe we can do something to help out."
"You got it, Doc. I guess we're done here."
"I'll call the glass company," Tanya offered.
"My nephew does glass," her neighbor said. "I'll give him a call. He'll send a crew. They do clean up too. Don't try to do that yourself. It's too dangerous." She nodded at the mess.
"Thank you," Tanya gave her a hug.
"For you, sweetheart, anything." She gave Tanya another kiss and went home to call her nephew.
The glass truck arrived an hour later. Tanya and the men were in the kitchen having coffee when the crew arrived. The window was replaced quickly, the clean up thorough. They were just leaving when Hal's phone rang.
"Yes, this is Dr. Perrine." His eyes widened. "No kidding. He did?" He chuckled slightly. "We'll be right over." He hung up. "They got the guy. He turned himself in."
"He what?" Morgan was stunned.
"Walked into the station and turned himself in. We wanted to talk, let's talk."
They arrived at the station about thirty minutes later. The young man sat quietly by the lead detective's desk, his child perched on his knee. He stood when Hal, Morgan and Tanya walked over. He wasn't cuffed, and appeared to be eating a sandwich. He looked embarrassed.
"I'm sorry," he said before any of them could speak. "I don't know why I did that. It was wrong and stupid—" His child started to cry.
Tanya could see the child still had some minor scarring from his surgery. He reached out to her. She asked the father if she could take him. The young man nodded. The child rode Tanya's hip, sniffling as he played with her hair.
"You look a little like his mom," the young man said. "I'm really sorry. Tip's been sick, and I lost my job because I was home with him. My babysitter has kids. She couldn't take him. I woke up this morning, and I just snapped. I can't do this anymore without Toni. She was my life!" He burst into tears.
Tanya put her free arm around him, holding him close. His son, Tip, leaned against his father. Morgan could see the young man wasn't much older than his late wife. He was too young to have the responsibility of a toddler on his own.
"What do you do?" he asked quietly. "Your job. Have any training?"
"I'm not a doctor or anything," the young man bridled. "It's easy for rich folks like you—"
"Not what I asked. What's your name?"
"Brendan Oldfield."
"Brendan. What I asked is what you do."
"Carpentry. I've been doing that since I was a kid. I work construction mostly, but I custom build cabinets. Or I did until Tip got sick."
"Anything else? Ever worked in a kitchen, bussed tables?"
Brendan frowned at him. "What? Is this a job interview?"
"Maybe. Got a record?"
"No, sir, this is my first offense."
"Sergeant, we don't want to press charges. Is there somewhere we can talk for a few minutes?"
"Yeah. There's a conference room. You okay with him?"
"Yes. Let's see if we can find a solution." Morgan tipped his head, telling Brendan to accompany him.
They followed the Sergeant to a conference room. He left a patrolman outside, closing the door. They all took seats. The child fell asleep on Tanya's shoulder.
"You need a job," Morgan said without preamble. "You need child care. We can help you with that."
"You'd help me, after I busted your windows?"
© 2020 Dellani Oakes
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