A week later, Hauck had begun the task of finding Freddy Munoz’s replacement, meeting with a detective from Philadelphia whose TV weatherperson wife was being transferred up here.
While they were talking Hauck’s cell phone rang.
He saw it was Warren. “You think I could excuse myself for just a couple of minutes?”
The guy answered, “Sure.” Hauck stepped outside.
“Warren?” They hadn’t spoken since his brother had gotten out on bail. He didn’t think it was appropriate. Any interaction between the two of them could jeopardize both their impending cases.
“How’s it going, bro?” Warren sounded sheepish.
Hauck said, “You know this isn’t really such a good idea…”
“I know that, Ty. Who’s the lawyer here, anyway? But I laid it all out for them. It’s a slam-dunk from here. I was just wondering…” His tone shifted. “You remember that kid Paul McDonald?”
Paul McDonald was the son of a golf pro at a public course where they used to play who developed Hodgkin’s. Warren had set up a local tournament to help raise money for his care. Hauck always thought it was about the nicest thing his brother ever did.
“Yeah, I remember, Warren. Why…?”
“I don’t know. I was just sort of wishing that kid hadn’t died.”
Hauck shifted the phone. There was a vagueness in his brother’s voice. This was all something that had been decided long ago. He hadn’t heard Paul McDonald’s name in years. “You okay?”
“Yeah, Ty, I’m okay. I am.”
“You talk to Ginny yet?”
“I think that one’s gonna be a bit of a project, bro.”
“What about the kids?”
“Yeah, um…” Warren started to answer, inhaled, then stopped.
“Where are you?” Hauck asked, hearing some background noise that sounded like engines running.
“At the office. Just putting a few things together. While I still have a license.”
“You want me to come up?” The hell with how it might seem, he decided. “We could talk. Brother to brother. A lot’s gone down. Have a couple of beers.”
“No, I don’t want you to come up, Ty. Like you said, bad precedent, anyway…”
A few seconds passed. Neither of them spoke. Suddenly Hauck asked the only thing he could think to say. “Warren, why…?”
“I don’t know.” It took a while for him to answer. “You think I don’t ask myself that a million times? We were just different. I didn’t see the line.” Then out of the blue, he went, “You ever tell anyone?”
“Tell anyone what?” Hauck asked.
“You know what I’m talking about, Ty. Peter Morrison. Who ever knew?”
Hauck waited a time before answering. “No one, Warren. I never told a soul.”
Warren chuckled as if impressed. “Yeah, I guess I always knew that, Ty. You know it was always you, don’t you?”
“Me?”
“You I was afraid of letting down. Not Pop or Mom.” He stayed silent for a while. “You.”
Hauck nodded as if his brother was in front of him. “Yeah, I think I know that now…”
“So, listen,” Warren said, “I’ve got to scoot. Lemme get back to those files…”
“You know you can call me anytime, Warren, right? Fuck the precedents. Whenever you need to. Okay?”
“I know that,” his brother said. “You stay outta trouble, Ty.”