WHEN I WOKE up the next morning, Steve was still gone. The place felt empty. Even Chevy seemed lonely. Had Steve gone to see my mother’s family? Had he slept in his truck?
I didn’t have much time to wonder before a police cruiser came down the road and turned into my lane. Sergeant Hurley climbed out. For once he wasn’t smiling. Beneath his steel-wool eyebrows, his eyes bored into mine.
“I hear you been nosing around an old case.”
I didn’t know how much he knew, and I didn’t want to get Jessica in trouble. So I said nothing.
“Where’s this guy Steve?”
I shrugged. “Out on a bender or following up a lead.”
“What lead?”
“He said he wanted to talk to my mother’s family.”
Hurley looked alarmed. “That’s a real hornet’s nest, Rick.”
I got mad. I was tired of getting the runaround. “You investigated the accident. Why did you do such a crappy job?”
He blinked. I don’t usually stand up to him. Or anyone else. “Who told you that?”
“People. You didn’t interview witnesses, you didn’t call in any crime-scene techs.”
“Rick, this is none of your business.”
“So people keep telling me! But it is my business. Steve says he’s my half brother. And this dead man may be our father.”
I could tell the news wasn’t a surprise to him. He walked up to me and put his big hand on my shoulder. His eyes turned kind. I felt the anger drain out of me. Worse, tears started to form. “I’ve been waiting a long time to know,” I managed.
He steered me toward the stoop. “There wasn’t much to report,” he said. “I did interview some witnesses who’d seen him at the Lion’s Head. But they had nothing to add. I went out to the scene. I saw the curve, the drop and the tree halfway down. Once the tox results came in, it was pretty obvious what had happened. It happens all too often, Rick.”
“What witnesses at the Lion’s Head?”
“It’s a long time ago. The regulars.”
“My mother’s brother, Tommy?”
Hurley looked down at his hands. “That’s all I can say. There are privacy issues, Rick. I have to respect them.”
“It’s been almost thirty-five years! Whose privacy?”
He picked at a callused finger.
“I know the dead man’s name was Wes. My mother knew him. Was he my father?”
Hurley squinted out across the field. Sighed. “Your mother…your mother didn’t want your father’s identity known. I know that seems unfair. But we should respect her wishes.”
“My mother has been dead for seventeen years.”
“She must have had her reasons.”
“Do you know who my father was?”
“I do not.”
I didn’t believe him but knew I’d never get the secret out of him. His loyalty lay with my mother, even over me.
“Who would know?”
“Like you said, it’s a long time ago.”
“My grandparents? My uncle Tommy?”
“If they did, no one was talking to the cops.”
His face had grown red. I wondered if there’d been an argument back then between the rookie-cop outsider and my mother’s family. In February 1985 my mother would have been four months pregnant with me. Too pregnant to keep it a secret much longer. Her family would have been furious.
“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “If Steve went to talk to them, he won’t take no for an answer.”
“Holy hell,” Hurley said. “That’s not a good idea.”
Then he got up and headed for his cruiser.