“Long day?” he asked.
“Is it possible to do a twenty-hour shift in a nine-hour work day? It was like time slowed down.” Maureen had worked at the eyeglass place in the mall for ten years and had never loved it. It had never been more than just a job. “What about you?”
Duckworth grimaced. “It had its moments.”
“Good or bad?”
He thought before answering. “Memorable.”
“Dumb question, anyway,” she said, “considering what you do. Was there a high point? Or a low point that was so low it was a high point?”
There were a few to choose from. The tattooed man? The one who’d had his genitals bitten off? The interrogation of their son and his new girlfriend?
“Let me think about that.”
“Why don’t you think about it while I get changed for dinner.”
“Say what?”
“You’re taking me out.” She smiled and gave him a kiss. “It’s so thoughtful of you.”
“Do I get to pick the place?” He was already thinking ribs.
She hesitated. “Why don’t we give Trevor a call and see if he wants to join us? We can let him pick the place.”
When Duckworth didn’t jump on the suggestion, Maureen said, “What? What’s wrong, Barry?”
“I think it’d be nice, just the two of us.”
“Did something happen today with Trevor?”
Duckworth was debating how much to tell her when they became aware of another car pulling into the driveway, followed seconds later by the slamming of a car door.
“Speak of the devil,” he said.
The door into the kitchen opened. Trevor took one step in and froze at the sight of his parents.
“Hey, Trev,” Maureen said cheerfully.
“Oh, great,” he said, taking in the two of them. “I guess Dad’s already filled you in.”
“About?”
“Treating me and my girlfriend like a couple of suspects.”
Maureen looked sharply at her husband. “What?” Then, just as quickly, back at Trevor, “Girlfriend?”
Duckworth shook his head. “It’s not like that. Trevor, you know that’s not how it was.”
“I never felt so embarrassed in my life,” Trevor said, moving past them. “Just the way you want someone to meet your dad.”
“What did you do?” Maureen asked Duckworth.
“I thought he might have been able to help me,” he said. “Simple as that.”
“Were you ever going to tell me about this?”
“You’ve been home for like two minutes,” Duckworth said defensively.
“Who’s this girl?” she asked Trevor.
“Carol,” he said.
“Beakman,” Duckworth added.
“Yeah, Dad would remember. I think he wrote it all down in his little notebook.”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Duckworth said. “Come on, Maureen, let’s get some dinner.”
“We’re going out,” Maureen told Trevor. “Come with us. We’ll get this all sorted.”
“I’ll pass,” Trevor said, exiting the kitchen.
“What will you eat?” Maureen asked. “I haven’t made anything. There’s some—”
“I’m not five, Mom,” he said. “I’ll figure something out.” They heard him stomp up the stairs.
“It’s like having a teenager all over again,” Duckworth said.
“How could you do that to him?”
He raised his palms. “I’m telling you, he’s overreacting. I’m sorry it happened, but he’s blowing it all out of proportion. Come on, let’s get something to eat.”
“I don’t even know if I want to go now.”
“Come on. Do I still get to pick?”
She eyed him warily. “Fine. Pick.”
“Let’s go to Knight’s.”
Maureen’s face fell. “You’re not serious. That’s not a restaurant. It’s a dive.”
“They have good wings,” he said. “And there’s something there I want to have another look at.”
She shrugged. “Give me five minutes.”
Maureen managed to tread more lightly going up the stairs than her son had moments earlier. It wasn’t her intention to be a sneak. It was just that, in her stocking feet, she didn’t make a sound when she reached the second-floor hallway and started heading to the bedroom she shared with her husband.
The door to her son’s room was ajar, and she could hear him talking on his cell phone.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Trevor whispered. It sounded to Maureen like an angry whisper.
“You certainly don’t have to do it on my account,” he continued. “Yeah, well, maybe what we’re doing now is the right thing.”
Maureen held her position in the hall.
“I don’t like being dragged into something that involves my father. Promise Falls’ most famous cop. God, I thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head when you saw the picture of that dude’s back.”
Maureen didn’t detect any admiration in his tone.
“Fine,” Trevor said. “Do whatever you want... Yes, yes, I’m still coming. I’ll meet you there.”
Then, a very clipped “Bye.”
Maureen continued down the hall to prepare for dinner out with her husband. But she wasn’t thinking about what she would order.
What did Trevor think wasn’t a good idea?
Twenty-two
Cal
“Pack?” Jeremy said, sitting up on the bed.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think the only way to keep you safe is to get you out of here.”
He swung his feet down to the floor. “What should I pack?”
I shrugged. “Your stuff.”
“My mom usually puts everything in my case when we go anywhere.”
“Whatever you brought when you came from home, bring that.”
“How long will we be gone?”
I hadn’t really thought about that. “I don’t know. Two, three days to start. Just pack whatever you’ve got. If you run out of stuff, we’ll get more.”
“Will you get me a phone?”
“No. Give me two minutes. I think your mom’s okay with this, but I just want to be sure.” I hesitated. “Unless you don’t want to go.”
He appeared dumbstruck. “Uh, I guess it’s okay.”
I could hear an ongoing discussion in the kitchen as I was descending the stairs. Gloria had clearly made her way back there from the living room.
“I swear, it’s like you think I’m alcoholic,” she said.
“I didn’t use that word, you just did,” Ms. Plimpton replied.
“You don’t have to use it. I know it’s what you mean. Let me ask you this, Madeline. Has it occurred to you that maybe I drink just a titch more than I used to? And have you asked yourself why that might be?”
“We’ve all been through a lot,” her aunt said.
“Oh yes, what you’ve been through, it’s just been terrible. How many times did you show up during the trial? Was it three? Four?”
“It was more than that and you know it, Gloria,” Ms. Plimpton said defensively.
“And when you did come, you know what was interesting? That we had a hard time finding you at the end of the day.”
“Gloria, stop.”
“But one of those days, I did find you. Didn’t I? But not at the end of the day.”
“For God’s sake, this has nothing to do with anything.”
Bob looked at Gloria pleadingly. “Gloria.”
“There you were, coming out of the hotel elevator at eight in the morning with Grant Finch.”
Ms. Plimpton turned away.
“I guess the good news is women your age still like to get their motor running,” Gloria said. She smiled wickedly at Bob. “That’s certainly encouraging for our twilight years, isn’t it, hon?”
Bob gave Ms. Plimpton a strained look of apology. “It’s the wine.”
“No, it’s not,” she said. “She’s never appreciated a damn thing I’ve done for her.”