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Damien was well aware of the two-sides within every person – the version they showed the world and the real one, which they kept hidden.

Everyone at the academy saw Damien as a rising star and the best marksman in the class. Ted saw him as a loyal friend. Jacob saw him as a screwed up brother with endless potential. Raquel saw him as the husband she always wanted to marry.

He was a little of all these things, but, inside, Damien felt unworthy of such belief.

The truth was, he was angry most of the time. Pissed God gave him a father that found violence more valuable than affection and a mother born without courage. Frustrated that life was a raging river where he struggled to move an inch upstream while the rest of the town sat back and let the currents pull them where they may.

Damien had years of rage pent up within him with no means of escape.

He promised himself he’d never release it on those he loved. He’d seen first hand the damage that inflicted. Yet, he worried, one day, the pressure valves keeping his anger at bay would crack and unleash his fury in a violent torrent.

When that happened, and he knew it was only a matter of time, he didn’t think he’d be able to control where that rage was directed.

He hoped the boundaries that came with the badge would help him remain disciplined. In a home where the rules were on a sliding scale that only his father controlled, the harsh lines of the law, separating good from evil, guilt from innocence, were attractive to Damien.

He needed that structure.

He also hoped that, by doing good in his small town, it would somehow decrease the pain that fueled his anger. Being a cop was more than just a job to him. It was a vocation, as real to Damien as the priesthood was to Jacob.

Damien believed being a police officer was his only chance at saving himself.

So, he understood Sanders Grace was more than what he’d read about or what he experienced with Ted’s family. He wanted to think the best of him while, at the same time, reviling his very existence.

He would have to keep both feelings in check. Lieutenant Decker had ordered Damien to meet with Sanders to revisit Mark’s case. A decade had passed since Mark’s arrest and Sanders had avoided others since. The police department’s requests for him to teach new cadets about his investigative techniques were greeted with foul language and one long, extended finger.

Like most people, Sanders was a dichotomy. Hero cop turned recluse. He wondered if Sanders was like the popular kids in Damien’s high school, the ones who would rather live off their few years of glory instead of building on them.

He’d find out shortly.

Damien pulled his Crown Vic up to the front of Sanders’ home and turned off the engine. The house was mid-century. Small and square, constructed of cement block and wood. It had a flat roof angled just enough to flush the rain from the Florida thunderstorms into the gutters and down spouts. Like Damien’s rental house, it also had a one car garage too small to fit an automobile as large as the Crown Vic.

Inside this unimpressive home was the only person in Hayeston that may have insight into catching Mandy Templeton’s killer. Damien hoped the old man was up to the hunt.

As he walked up the pavers toward the house, the front door opened and a slender teenager stepped out, silently closing the door behind him. His sandy blonde hair and blue eyes were striking and, if it weren’t for the dense acne dotting his cheeks, Damien would have guessed him to be a teenage Casanova.

“Are you Officer Hill,” the boy whispered. “Cadet Hill,” Damien said. “And you are?”

“Tobin. You’re here to meet with my dad about a murder?”

“Yes.”

“Before we go inside, I just wanted to thank you for coming over. We don’t get a lot of visitors because my dad can be a little grumpy. Well, a lot grumpy. But he’s a great detective and I’m sure he’ll help you the best he can.”

“Why are you whispering?” Damien asked.

“He usually likes me to stay out of the way, especially when it comes to his work. He thinks I’m not old enough to see the things he’s seen.”

“Sounds like he’s just trying to protect you.”

“I know he is. He’s a great dad. He’s done amazing things in his life,” Tobin said with a broad smile, then leaned in closer. “He doesn’t know it, but I’ve already read most of his case files. You know, when he’s not home, helping out the mayor, doing security consulting, things like that, I sneak into his office and read his notes, study the crimes, follow the investigations, to see how his mind worked, how he followed the clues.”

Tobin lowered his head.

“I know I shouldn’t have, but I was curious… I want to be just like him, you know?”

Damien put his hand on Tobin’s shoulder, thinking back to the hours on the floor in the evidence lockup reading Mark’s case files.

“I understand,” Damien said. “I’m sure your dad would too.”

“Oh, don’t tell him,” Tobin said. “Please?”

“Okay. But one of the ways to show him you’re a man is to own up to who you are and what you’ve done. He may not like it, but he’ll respect it.”

Tobin glanced back at the house, as if considering Damien’s suggestion, then smiled.

“Yeah,” the young man said. “Then I guess I’m not as grown up as I thought.”

“Don’t rush it,” Damien said. “You’re only a kid once.

Milk it for all it’s worth.”

“Thanks, Officer Hill. I appreciate your kind words.”

Damien wondered how someone like Sanders could raise such a polite kid. Then again, Damien had rejected his own father’s shortcomings. Maybe Tobin had learned to do the same.

As he and the young man started toward the house, they looked up to find the front door open and Sanders Grace standing in the doorway.