Chương 7
“Why does a retired general need a lawyer on speed dial?”
“Because retirement did not make everyone forget my phone number.”
I studied him.
“Were you going to destroy David?”
Dad’s face changed.
Not much.
Enough.
“When I saw him hit you?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed his thumb across the edge of the phone.
“For about ten seconds, I wanted to.”
I waited.
“What stopped you?”
“You did.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You looked scared of me.”
The answer sat between us.
I had not expected it.
Dad leaned back.
“I spent most of my adult life in systems where speed and force could keep people alive.”
His eyes moved toward Benjamin.
“That is a dangerous habit to bring into a family.”
I looked at my father’s hands.
Older now.
Veins raised beneath the skin.
A scar crossed one knuckle.
“I wasn’t scared of you.”
“You were scared of what I might do.”
“That’s different.”
“Not enough.”
He put the encrypted phone on the windowsill.
“I called Evelyn because I wanted someone who could tell me where the lines were before I crossed them.”
That sounded more like my father than the legend I had spent years trying not to think about.
“What can she actually do?”
“Give you options.”
“Not make calls?”
“No.”
“Not get David fired?”
“No.”
“Not have somebody scare him?”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Claire.”
“I’m checking.”
“No.”
I let my head fall back against the pillow.
“Good.”
Dad was quiet for a while.
Then he said, “There is something you need to know before she gets here.”
I opened my eyes.
The way he said it made my stomach tighten again.
“What?”
He looked toward the door as if making sure we were alone.
“David’s company has a defense subcontract.”
I stared at him.
“He sells logistics software.”
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with you?”
“Possibly nothing.”
“Dad.”
His jaw shifted.
“I recognized the company name when you told me where he worked two years ago.”
“You never said anything.”
“There was no reason to.”
“Until now.”
“Until he claimed I threatened his career.”
A cold sensation moved through me.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Could you?”
“Not legally.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Dad’s eyes met mine.
“Yes.”
The answer frightened me more because he did not seem proud of it.
“But I won’t.”
I looked at the sleeping child against my chest.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Dad was silent for several seconds.
Then he reached for the teddy bear and straightened its crooked ear.
“David’s employer is currently under a federal compliance review.”
I stopped breathing.
“And if he convinces himself my call was connected to that review,” Dad said, “he may do something much worse than accuse you of cheating.”
I stared at him until the words arranged themselves into something I could understand.
“What could he possibly do?”
Dad’s expression tightened.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“It’s also true.”
He leaned forward, forearms on his knees.
“If David believes I used influence against his employer, he may try to protect himself by creating a record first.”
“A record of what?”
“That I threatened him.”
“He already told police that.”
“Yes.”
“So he already did it.”
“Maybe.”
The word made me angry.
“Stop saying maybe.”
Dad nodded once.
“Fair.”
He reached for the paper cup of water the nurse had left beside him, discovered it was empty, and set it back down.
“He could contact his company’s counsel.”
“Wouldn’t that be good?”
“If he tells the truth.”
I looked at Benjamin.
His mouth moved in his sleep.
“What exactly is this compliance review?”
Dad hesitated.
“You said complicated situations involving people who should know better.”
“That was Evelyn’s practice, not the review.”
“You know what I mean.”
He looked toward the closed door.
“The company handles logistics software used by several government contractors.”
“I know that.”
“There were concerns about access controls and reporting.”
“What kind of concerns?”
“The kind I should not speculate about with you.”
I gave him a flat look.
“I’m your daughter, not a foreign intelligence service.”
“That sentence has never improved a security conversation.”
“Dad.”
“I do not know whether David is personally involved.”
That changed the temperature of the room.
“Personally involved in what?”
“I said I don’t know.”
“But you think he might be.”
“I think his behavior tonight suggests he is frightened about more than paternity.”
I replayed David’s face when Dad had taken out the encrypted phone.
At the time I had seen arrogance.
Then panic.
Maybe both.
“He thought your call was about his job.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That is the useful question.”
I rubbed my eyes.
Pain medication had softened the edges of my body but not my thoughts.
They kept bumping into one another.
“I want the paternity test.”
Dad nodded.
“Good.”
“Not because he deserves one.”
“No.”
“Because I want this one thing settled.”
“Yes.”
“And I want the girls home with me.”
“You cannot take five children home from the hospital tonight.”
“I know.”
“You said home.”
“I meant eventually.”
“I am checking.”
“You are irritating.”
“I have been told.”
My phone lit up again.
This time the name on the screen was Carol.
I almost let it ring.
Then I answered.
“Are the girls okay?”
“They left with Marisol.”
Carol sounded exhausted.
“David is still here.”
“Are the police?”
“They left.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Why?”
“Because nobody at the house was injured and David agreed to stay here.”
I looked at Dad.
He mouthed, reasonable.
I hated that it was reasonable.
“Did he break your lamp?”
Carol sighed.
“Yes.”
“Did he threaten anyone?”
“No.”
“Did he scare the girls?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
That admission cost her.
I could hear it.
“He didn’t mean to,” she added.
There it was.
The repair.
“What did you call me for?”
“To tell you he’s calm now.”
“I’m glad.”
“And he wants to talk.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
May you like
“He thinks your father is trying to destroy him.”
“My father is sitting in a vinyl chair eating crackers from a hospital vending machine.”
