Patrick From High School

Image by Hands off my tags! Michael Gaida from PixabayPatrick and I were friends back in high school,

but I hadn’t seen him since I left the state for law school. Mia, on the other hand, was hot. So, I kept up with her on all the social platforms.

She’s the one that told me Patrick was in trouble.

I remembered him as a good kid—he just wasn’t a good student. Last I knew, he had a job lined up on a fishing trawler. One of those ‘Deadliest Catch’ deals. Mia told me that he lost a couple fingers reaching for a pulley during a storm.

A dismembered hand wasn’t uncommon on a trawler, but that was enough for him, and he quit to be a mechanic.

Life was looking up for a while. He found a girlfriend and had a kid. But the good times didn’t last.

Two years ago, his shop was raided. Turned out to be a chop-shop, and Patrick was convicted as an accessory. Mia should have called me then. I couldn’t represent him, but I could have helped. Whether he was actually guilty is irrelevant. He did his time and got out four days ago.

Mia called me yesterday. I’m still piecing things together, but his girlfriend was murdered, and his handprint was found in her blood. Mia swore Patrick didn’t do it, but the idiot ran. She could contact him, but he wouldn’t come in.

I used my connections to take a look at the evidence. Cops were on the scene before she bled out, and the only print was Patrick’s right hand. Even without the murder weapon, it was enough.

Mia arranged a meeting in this abandoned garage. As Patrick emerged and shook my hand, I knew the evidence was planted. His two missing fingers came from his right hand.

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