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“His name’s James Calderon. He’s this gentleman’s brother,” Charlie added nodding at Ray. “Thing is, he apparently came to town looking for you, Walt. May have gone out to the plant. Did you talk to him? Would have been last Wednesday, most likely.”

“Wednesday?” Walter blinked uneasily, glancing at his mother. “Yes, I talked to him a few minutes. He didn’t make much sense. Said something about being my brother, but one of the punch presses was down on the shop floor and I was busy as hell. Told him to take a walk, I didn’t have time for games. He got a little pushy, so my Uncle Gordon showed him out. That was about it.”

“He said he was your brother and you didn’t take time to talk to him?” Charlie said, his tone neutral.

“What was I supposed to do? Let fifty guys stand around at ten bucks an hour while I shoot the breeze with some clown I never heard of? It was all a crock anyway. He was looking for a handout.”

“Actually he wasn’t,” Audrey said, cocking her head to gauge Charlie’s reaction. “Or at least he didn’t ask me for anything. He just wanted to meet his father.”

“He came here to the house?” Charlie asked. “When was that, Mrs. McClain?”

“Wednesday afternoon, around two, I think. He apparently got our address out of the phone book.”

“Mother,” Walter began, but she cut him off with a wave.

“Don’t lecture me, Walter. I know I shouldn’t have let him in, but it was Ross’s day off and I was bored. And he seemed harmless enough.”

“What happened?” Charlie prompted.

“At first he said he was a friend of Walter’s from out of town, which I knew wasn’t true. He was far too interesting to be a friend of Walter’s. He asked a few questions about the family, to confirm things, I suppose, and then he told me straight out that he was Wally’s half brother. That my late husband had an affair with his mother, and he was the result. He even had pictures.”

“What kind of pictures?” Charlie asked.

“Nothing pornographic,” Audrey said drily. “Just snapshots of Walter and... a very pretty young woman, dark eyes, and dark hair. Walter always had excellent taste. One picture was a group shot with a young boy, this gentleman here, unless Tm greatly mistaken.”

Calderon nodded, but said nothing.

“When I explained that Walter senior died in Viet Nam, he... Well, he was very disappointed, naturally. We talked awhile, had a drink or two, and then Megan Lundy stopped by to talk about the Arts Council scholarships. And so I... gave Mr. Calderon some money, and he left.”

“You gave him money?” Walter echoed.

“Not a lot of money dear, a few hundred. His airfare, more or less. He’d come a long way for nothing. I felt it was the least I could do. We can afford it. Or rather I can,” she added pointedly.

“That’s not true,” Ray Calderon said slowly.

“Mr. Calderon,” Charlie began, “I know this isn’t easy for you, but—”

“Easy’s not the issue,” Calderon said coolly. “I don’t know how much of what this nice lady just told us is true, but I know the last part isn’t. Her husband didn’t die in Viet Nam. He was never there and Jimmy knew it. What’s going on here, lady? What are you trying to hide?”

“I’ve heard about enough of this,” Walter said, rising, his face flushing. “Charlie, you’re out of line bringing this man to my home. I want him gone, now. If you’ve got any more questions, call my office during business hours. Or talk to my attorney. Is that clear? Ross, would you see these people out, please.”

“There’s no need to be unpleasant, Walter,” Audrey McClain said sharply. “And since I’m the only one who can help, why don’t you and Hannah go on to your Chamber of Commerce meeting? I’ll be fine,” she said, waving off his objections. “If Charlie hauls out a rubber hose I’ll have Ross throw him out. Or try. It might be fun to watch. You go on. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Your mom’s right, Wally,” Hannah McClain said suddenly, speaking for the first time. “We’re already late, and you’re supposed to talk about the plant expansion. We’d better go.”

Walter hesitated, whipsawed between the two women in his life. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “But dammit, Charlie, keep this short, understand? Mom’s been known to overestimate her stamina.” He turned and stalked out without another word. Hannah and Audrey exchanged a wry glance of shared amusement and irritation. And then Hannah followed her husband out.

“Well,” Audrey said, taking a deep breath, “Ross, I think I’d like a whiskey sour. Anyone else? Coffee? Tea? Something to eat, perhaps?” No one spoke. “Then just get mine please, Ross. And Ross? Take your time. And knock before you enter, dear.” The weightlifter nodded mutely and trudged off. He left the door ajar. Charlie closed it.

“Please sit down, all of you,” Audrey said. “Looking up at you is giving me a stiff neck.”

“Mrs. McClain, perhaps tomorrow would be better,” Charlie said.

“No, I’d like to get this over with. To help this young man if I can. None of this is his fault, and he’s quite right, Walter didn’t die in Viet Nam. Wally’s a bit touchy on the subject of his father, as you may have gathered. It was only a minor scandal back then, lots of young men deserted to avoid the war. And later, when my father-in-law told people Walter died in Viet Nam, no one bothered to contradict him. Or dared to. Old Harvey was a formidable man. By now I imagine most people believe it actually happened. Wally may half believe it himself. But... you’re right, Mr. Calderon,” she said, swiveling her chair to face him. “Your brother didn’t buy the family cover story. He even showed me a photostat of an army warrant. Which surprised me. I thought President Carter’s amnesty took care of all that.”

“The amnesty was for draft resisters,” Calderon said. “Not deserters. Or thieves.”

“Thieves?” Charlie echoed.

“There was a — misunderstanding about some money Walter took from his unit when he left,” Audrey sighed. “Not much, a few thousand. And I believe a man was injured in a fight over it. My father-in-law offered to repay the money when the military police made inquiries. I was quite ill at the time. I don’t know if he actually did so.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered, ma’am,” Calderon said grimly. “It wasn’t just the money. When Captain McClain got orders for Viet Nam, he skipped out with his outfit’s payroll. A sergeant tried to stop him and got shot for his trouble. Nearly died. The army would still like to talk to your husband about it.”

“Then they’ll need a... channeler? Is that the word?” Audrey said. “Walter may not have died in Viet Nam, but he is dead. My late father-in-law tried very hard to locate him after the amnesty. Police, detectives, attorneys, the works. They found exactly nothing. In the end we took legal action to have Walter declared dead so Walter junior could inherit the business. And it was not a step we took lightly.”

“Having him declared dead may have simplified your situation,” Calderon said. “It wouldn’t matter to the military.”

“Your brother said something along those lines,” Audrey said, craning her neck to see him better. “He thought Walter came back here all those years ago. Is that what your mother told him?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, she may have thought so, but it simply wasn’t true. Wherever he ran to, it wasn’t here. He went off to the army and never came home. Like so many others.”

“There’s a big difference between those others and your husband, Mrs. McClain,” Calderon said. “He was never in combat. Why are you so sure he’s dead?”

“Because a small army of detectives found no trace of him. But also because of the money,” she said. “Walter was never any good with money. Never had to be. I wasn’t surprised when the investigators told me he took some. He probably meant to pay it back. The family could afford it. The point is, the few thousand he took wouldn’t have lasted him for long. But he never asked for more. We’ve never heard from him again. Ever.”