Chương 10
“Fine.”
“At sixteen you were doing better.”
“So?”
“So I thought, why put this on you now?”
“Because it was my life.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
She swallowed.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt more than any explanation.
Ryan nodded slowly.
“Okay.”
“I was afraid you’d romanticize him.”
He looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because children do that with missing parents. They build whatever person they need.”
“You built him too.”
Her face tightened.
“I built a wall.”
“Same thing.”
She looked away.
Ryan rubbed his hands together against the cold.
“You told me he was dead for all the reasons that matter.”
“I remember.”
“I believed you.”
“I know.”
“I stopped looking.”
She looked at him then.
“Were you looking?”
“When I was thirteen.”
Her face changed.
Ryan gave a bitter smile.
“Yeah. I used your laptop.”
“What did you search?”
“Daniel Parker. Dad. Missing person Wisconsin. Whatever I could think of.”
She lowered her head.
“There are thousands of Daniel Parkers.”
“I know.”
His father’s conviction had not appeared because Ryan did not know the middle name, birthplace, age, or enough other identifying information.
Maybe his mother had counted on that.
Maybe she simply never thought he would search.
“Did you ever almost tell me?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After you got arrested.”
Ryan frowned.
“I wasn’t arrested.”
“You spent six hours at the police station.”
“I was detained.”
She looked at him.
He sighed.
“Okay. Fine.”
At nineteen, Ryan had been in a truck with friends when police found marijuana under the passenger seat.
Not his.
Not much.
Nobody was charged in the end.
His mother had sat in the station parking lot until nearly three in the morning.
He remembered how angry she had been afterward.
Not about the weed.
About the people in the truck.
“You kept saying I didn’t understand what one stupid decision could cost.”
She nodded.
“I was thinking about him.”
Ryan looked back through the open door at the box.
“Why didn’t you say it?”
“Because you were terrified.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You called me Mom three times in one sentence.”
Ryan almost denied it.
Then remembered.
He had.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“So you protected me again.”
“I told myself I did.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No.”
She took a long breath.
“I protected myself too.”
Ryan looked at her.
“There.”
She nodded.
“There.”
It was the first thing that felt fully honest.
She was afraid he would hate her.
Afraid he would contact Daniel.
Afraid Daniel would rewrite their history.
Afraid Ryan would ask why she had stayed after the shove.
Afraid Ryan would discover that after Daniel’s arrest, she visited him.
More than once.
Ryan stared.
“You said once.”
“I visited before sentencing once.”
“How many after?”
“Three.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
He gave her a look.
She flinched.
“Okay. I know. Because I was twenty-five, pregnant and then a new mother, and the man I had loved was in jail, and loving somebody doesn’t shut off at the exact moment you finally understand they’re bad for you.”
Ryan looked down.
She continued.
“I hated him. I missed him. I wanted him punished. I wanted someone to tell me he was going to be okay. I wanted him to suffer. Then I felt guilty for wanting him to suffer.”
Her voice stayed level, which made the words heavier.
“I didn’t want to tell you that because mothers are supposed to have clean answers.”
Ryan thought of her folding laundry while talking on the phone.
Packing his lunches.
Falling asleep on the couch.
Calling him twice whenever snow started.
He had never imagined her at twenty-five sitting across from Daniel in a county jail.
“When did you stop loving him?”
Lisa looked at the lake.
“I don’t know if that’s how it works.”
Ryan nodded.
That answer, too, felt real.
Inside, Walter moved something on the workbench.
Ryan heard the scrape.
His mother glanced back.
“He loved your father.”
“I know.”
“No. He loved him enough to become stupid around him.”
Ryan looked at her.
“Meaning?”
“Walter knew more than he admitted.”
“About the smuggling?”
“Yes.”
Walter’s voice came from inside.
“That’s true.”
They turned.
He stood in the doorway.
Lisa’s face hardened.
Walter looked at Ryan.
“I knew enough that I should’ve stopped him earlier.”
“Could you?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“I could’ve stopped helping.”
Ryan waited.
Walter rubbed his thumb along the doorframe.
“When Daniel brought in cash, I used it.”
“For the business?”
“And myself.”
Lisa laughed without humor.
“He bought a truck.”
Walter nodded.
“A Ford.”
Ryan stared.
“You were profiting.”
“Yes.”
“You testified against him.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed evidence.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow you walked.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Walter’s face changed.
“Because I was a coward who got scared before he did.”
Lisa looked at him.
For once, she had no immediate answer.
Ryan walked back inside.
The cassette waited on top of the case.
Beside it lay the little brass key taped to an index card.
Ryan peeled it loose.
“What’s this for?”
Walter shook his head.
“I never knew.”
On the card, Daniel had written:
STORAGE 214.
Ryan looked at Walter.
“Storage unit?”
“Maybe.”
“Still exists after twenty-three years?”
“Probably not.”
Lisa leaned closer.
“214.”
Something in her tone made Ryan look at her.
“What?”
She stared at the key.
“Daniel had a locker at the old marina.”
Walter frowned.
“What locker?”
“Near the fuel shed.”
“There weren’t numbered lockers.”
“There were before you took over.”
Walter’s expression changed.
“That building was demolished.”
“When?”
“2008.”
Ryan looked at the key.
“Then this is useless.”
Walter shook his head slowly.
“Maybe not.”
He crossed to a drawer and took out his phone.
No signal.
He frowned.
“The marina owner moved the old storage cages to the county fairgrounds for a few years. Sold some.”
“You know where number 214 went?”
“No.”
Ryan put the key down.
May you like
For the first time all night, an unanswered clue did not immediately feel urgent.
It was after one in the morning.
