Chương 8
Dad looked down at the unopened packet in his hand.
“You told me to eat,” he whispered.
Carol ignored him.
“David says there’s something going on at work.”
My spine stiffened.
“What did he tell you?”
“That his department has been under review.”
“Anything else?”
“He said people are trying to blame him.”
Dad stood.
I raised one finger.
He stopped.
“Who are people?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he say?”
“He said his boss is protecting himself.”
“What’s his boss’s name?”
“Claire, I’m not interrogating my son.”
“I’m asking what he told you.”
“Why?”
“Because fifteen minutes ago my father told me David’s company is under a federal compliance review.”
Carol went silent.
Then, very quietly, “How does your father know that?”
There was no good answer that did not create ten more questions.
“His old work overlaps with that world.”
“What old work?”
I closed my eyes.
“This is not the conversation.”
“It apparently is.”
“Carol.”
“What exactly did your father do?”
Dad mouthed, Army.
I pointed at him without looking.
“He served in the Army.”
“I know that.”
“He retired as a lieutenant general.”
Silence.
A long one.
I heard a refrigerator motor humming on Carol’s end.
Then she said, “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Three-star?”
“Yes.”
“David said he was some kind of clerk.”
“He was not a clerk.”
“He told us he was retired government.”
“He is retired government.”
Dad gave me an approving nod.
I ignored him.
Carol lowered her voice.
“Why would you hide that?”
“I didn’t hide it.”
“You certainly didn’t advertise it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
I looked at my father.
He was studying the floor.
“Because I wanted my marriage to belong to me.”
Carol made a small sound that could have been disbelief or pity.
“And now?”
“Now my marriage is apparently sitting in your living room accusing my father of a conspiracy.”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“He is scared.”
“So am I.”
“He says if he loses his job, we all lose everything.”
The sentence caught me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ask him.”
“He won’t tell me.”
“Then why did he say it?”
“I don’t know.”
For the first time that night, Carol sounded less like David’s mother and more like a seventy-year-old woman whose son had brought something frightening into her house.
“Is he drinking?”
“No.”
“Is he armed?”
She gasped.
“Of course not.”
“Does he own a gun?”
“No.”
I looked at Dad.
He shook his head slightly, as if reminding me we did not know that for certain.
“Keep your phone with you.”
“Are you saying I’m in danger?”
“I’m saying he broke a lamp tonight.”
“He knocked it over.”
“Grace said he broke it.”
“She’s four.”
“She also knows which lamp.”
Carol breathed out.
“That ugly green one.”
Despite everything, we both laughed once.
Then neither of us knew what to do with the sound.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” I said.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“David wants me to ask you something.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“What?”
“He wants to know if you’ve ever seen a folder in his home office labeled Northstar.”
Dad’s head came up.
I watched every trace of fatigue leave his face.
“What did you say?”
Carol repeated it.
Dad stepped closer.
“Ask her if David is in the room.”
I relayed the question.
“No,” Carol said.
“He went upstairs.”
“To what room?”
“The guest room.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed.
“Carol,” I said, “do not go upstairs.”
“What?”
“Just stay downstairs.”
“You’re frightening me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t like this.”
“Neither do I.”
Dad held out his hand for the phone.
I gave it to him.
“Mrs. Bennett,” he said.
Carol bristled immediately.
“Do not ‘Mrs. Bennett’ me.”
Dad blinked.
“All right.”
“Call me Carol.”
“Carol, has David asked you to retrieve anything from Claire and David’s house?”
“No.”
“Has he asked you to contact anyone for him?”
“No.”
“Has he given you a laptop, drive, phone, envelope, or any other item to keep?”
“What is this, Tom?”
“Please answer.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“Because if he does ask, you should decline.”
“What has my son done?”
Dad looked at me.
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“You’re right.”
His voice softened.
“But it is the only honest answer I have.”
Carol was quiet.
Then she said, “He asked me for my car keys.”
Dad’s eyes sharpened.
“Did you give them to him?”
“No.”
“Where are they?”
“In my purse.”
“Keep them with you.”
“I don’t need orders.”
“No.”
Dad exhaled.
“Sorry.”
Another silence.
“I’ll keep them.”
“Thank you.”
He handed the phone back to me.
Carol sounded smaller now.
“Claire?”
“I’m here.”
“If he did something at work, did you know?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“Yes.”
“You and I have not exactly been close.”
“No.”
That truth sat awkwardly between us.
Then I added, “But I would tell you.”
She sniffed.
“All right.”
“Lock your bedroom door tonight.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Probably.”
“I’ve lived in that house thirty-two years.”
“I know.”
“I’m not hiding in my bedroom from my own son.”
“Then don’t call it hiding.”
“What do I call it?”
“Getting some sleep.”
Carol almost laughed.
“You are very much your father’s daughter.”
I looked at Dad.
“I’m beginning to fear that.”
He rolled his eyes.
Carol said she would call if David left.
When the line disconnected, Dad immediately picked up the encrypted phone.
I watched him press the same contact as before.
“Evelyn.”
A woman answered too faintly for me to hear.
Dad said, “I need you to check whether the name Northstar has any relevance to the Meridian review.”
I sat up.
“You said no influence.”
He covered the receiver.
“This is my attorney.”
“You’re asking her for information.”
“I’m asking if the word is already known to counsel.”
“That sounds like lawyer language for influence.”
“It is lawyer language for lawyer.”
I frowned.
He returned to the call.
“Yes.”
May you like
He listened for nearly a minute without speaking.
His face changed slowly.
