The chair was close to Uncle Nelson’s, and his uncle pulled him into a rough hug. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say…Oh, Caleb…” But the rest was lost in heaving sobs. As Caleb felt the force of his uncle’s distress, something in his own mind started to accept how possible this universe was after all.
When Detective Harriman came back, Caleb still hadn’t completely found his way out of disbelief.
“Who did it? Who hurt my dad?” Hurt. That sounded better.
“We’re working on the answer to that,” Harriman said.
“You don’t know? You haven’t arrested anyone?”
“It’s very early on in the investigation.”
Caleb took a drink of the water. Somehow he managed to swallow it.
“My dad…no one would want to hurt him. He’s a graphic artist, for God’s sake. He never hurt anyone. He’s good to everyone. He’s always helping people, he’s…he’s…no one would want to hurt him.”
“Do you have any idea where your brother is?” the detective asked.
“Half brother,” Uncle Nelson murmured.
“Pardon?” Harriman asked.
“Technically, Mason is my half brother,” Caleb said, feeling irritated. “But I call him my brother.”
“So do you know where he is?”
“Isn’t Mom telling Mason? I thought that might be why-” He glanced at Uncle Nelson.
“No,” Harriman said. “No, she doesn’t know where he is, either. She’s working with the detectives who have charge of this case. I’m just helping them out. They’re doing all they can to locate your sister and your brother. We want to make sure everyone else in the family is safe. We’re hoping Jenny is with him.”
“Yes!” Caleb said, latching on to this. “Yes, he might have stopped by the studio and taken her so that Dad could get some work done.”
“That’s what your mom thought, too. So you don’t know where he might have taken her?”
Caleb named some places-the park, an ice-cream place, a beach-and Detective Harriman wrote them down but said, “I think these were on your mom’s list, too. Can you think of any other places? Maybe ones your mom wouldn’t think of?”
Caleb frowned but shook his head.
“Friends that he might be hanging out with?”
Caleb shook his head again. “He never takes Jenny around to his friends’ places. He’d never do that. He’s like-you know, protective of her.”
Detective Harriman wrote that down, which Caleb thought was a strange thing to write. Uncle Nelson reached over and patted Caleb’s hand. Caleb pulled his hand away.
Uncle Nelson wasn’t crying so hard now, he noticed.
Caleb wondered why he wasn’t crying himself. What was wrong with him?
Because this isn’t happening, he told himself. This is not happening.
Detective Harriman asked a few more questions and then asked Caleb if he needed to go to his locker for anything.
He felt an urge to lie and say yes, just to flee the room, to get as far away as possible. But he said, “No, not really.”
Harriman’s pager went off, and the detective silenced it and read the display. He excused himself and stepped out into the hall to make a call on his cell phone. To Caleb’s relief, Uncle Nelson didn’t try to converse.
When Harriman came back in, he said, “Your mom’s back home now, so if you’re ready to go, I’ll give you and your uncle a ride there.”
“But my car-”
“Probably best to come back and pick it up later.”
Caleb didn’t argue. His resistance was failing him, leaving him hollow and numb. He didn’t want to try to drive.
Caleb worried about his uncle Nelson as they walked. When they got to Detective Harriman’s sedan, Harriman opened the door on the passenger’s side of the front seat. But Uncle Nelson ignored him and got into the back. Feeling awkward, Caleb sat up front.
“Are you okay back there, Uncle Nelson?” Caleb said, but his uncle didn’t answer him. He seemed lost in thought.
As they drove away from the school, Caleb turned to the detective. “Are you sure…” he started to say, then fell silent.
“That it’s your dad?” Harriman asked. “The coroner’s office will make absolutely certain, but in the meantime, your mom has identified the victim as your father.”
After another silence, Caleb said, “Can I see him?”
“Not just now, but maybe later.”
“I need to see him.”
Harriman hesitated, then said, “Your mom will have to make that decision. She seems like someone who would understand why it’s important to you.”
Why can’t I cry? Caleb wondered, disturbed by the thought and yet half-relieved that he wasn’t losing control in front of this stranger.
Caleb looked back at his uncle, who was still staring out at nothing in particular.
“Why did you bring Uncle Nelson?” he whispered to Harriman.
“You’re a minor. Your mom agreed that I could come by to pick you up and talk to you in your uncle’s presence.”
Something in that confused him, but everything was confusing and out of place. His dad was dead. One moment he felt certain it was true, the next moment that there had been some fuckup on the part of the police. Let it be a mistake. I won’t be mad at anyone. I’ll forgive anyone anything. That’s okay. Just let my dad be alive…
He wanted the car to stop so that he could get out. He didn’t want to go anywhere. Stop right here, he wanted to say.
“You okay?” Harriman asked.
He shook his head.
“Feeling sick? You want me to pull over for a minute?”
Now that it had been offered to him, he suddenly didn’t want it. He needed to know. He shook his head again.
Harriman asked him questions about school, and Caleb answered knowing the detective was just trying to distract him, but appreciating it even so. The man was just…calm. A kind of calm that made Caleb feel a little steadier, too.
“I wish you were in charge of the case,” Caleb said.
Harriman smiled a little. “Thanks. But the detectives who have it are good at what they do, and they’ll have lots of help. You’ll like them.”
“But if I need to talk to you?”
Harriman pulled out a business card and handed it to him. “Any time, day or night.”
They turned down his street and the whole neighborhood looked incredibly normal, which didn’t seem right. Harriman pulled to the curb in front of Caleb’s house. Two sedans that looked a lot like the one Detective Harriman drove were parked in front. Uncle Nelson’s car was in the driveway, next to his mom’s. I have to be strong for Mom, he thought. She’ll need me to take care of her.
“No press yet, so at least you don’t have to cope with that,” Harriman said.
Caleb went into the house. He saw his mom rise to her feet from where she had been sitting with two other detectives, saw her trying so hard to be brave for him, and suddenly, of all the rotten times, he began to weep as if he were two instead of seventeen.
CHAPTER 4
Wednesday, May 10
12:03 A.M.
LAS PIERNAS
THE call came later than expected. The interior of the car parked on the hill and the silhouette of its lone occupant were dimly illuminated as the cell phone rang.
Dexter Fletcher let the disposable cell phone ring three times.
It never did any good to rush these things. He thought of the three brothers he was closest to in the Fletcher family, pictured them in this same situation. Giles would have waited, perhaps even forced a second call. Nelson would have answered in the middle of the first ring-although he doubted she had ever called Nelson. Roy? One never knew what Roy would do.
“Yes?” Dexter answered. “Remember-”
“The line is not secure. I know.” Cleo was always so sure of herself.
“The situation?”
“Just as you wished.”
He sighed. “Not exactly…wished.”
“No, of course not. But…taken care of.”