He didn’t really feel he could cope. That was clear.
“Why’d we stop at the house?” Rod asked.
Bruce glanced over at him. “I needed to get the keys.”
“Keys to what?”
“Stuart’s place.”
They were going to his dead brother’s house? “Where’s Patrick?”
“At home with his wife, I guess. I haven’t talked to him in the past couple of hours. I’m hoping they’re all in bed. They need the sleep.”
Bruce probably needed sleep more than anyone else. If he’d kept to his regular habits, he’d been up since five this morning—for twenty-one hours. “Does Patrick know what you’re going to show me?”
“No. I didn’t tell him. I don’t think I will.”
“Why not?”
“You’ll see.”
Rod was almost afraid to guess what this might be about. Bruce seemed disillusioned in some way, which meant it wouldn’t be good. “Does this have anything to do with what Patrick and Edna had to say to me at the Rockin’ Rooster?”
They passed the farm equipment and took the side road along the fence in the opposite direction from the laborers’ shacks. “No. I’m sorry about that, too. At first glance, you seem like the person to blame, I guess. And Edna’s looking for a target. Anger is so much easier than grief.”
“What about Patrick? He’s just angry, too?”
“He’s defensive of his mother. As the oldest, he tries to look out for her. Feels it would be disloyal to see you as anything other than an interloper. Crazy thing is, the whole situation’s my fault, as you’ve tried to point out. I’m not sure why they’ve always blamed you and not me, but I’ve often wondered.”
“They love you,” Rod said simply.
There was a faint smile on Bruce’s lips. “I guess. Edna used to, anyway. Now…I think we’re destroying each other.” He’d attempted to turn it into a casual statement, but Rod sensed that the breakdown of Bruce’s marriage was hurting him almost as badly as the loss of his son.
Rod had always believed he’d be happy to see the Dunlaps’ “perfect” world crumble. But he didn’t feel that way at all. Fourteen years seemed like an awfully long time to carry a grudge. These people were as human and fallible as he was. They’d been so frightened of him, so frightened by what he might become to Bruce, that they’d reacted viciously to protect their own.
“Have you considered marriage counseling?” he asked.
“No. Do you think that might help?”
“It’s worth a shot, right?” That was the last thing Rod had ever expected to say to his father. And yet…he meant it. What good would it do him to see Bruce and Edna break up? Especially at this late date?
Suddenly, he wanted the Dunlaps to go back to being perfect. Not only did he want Stuart to be alive, he wanted Edna to be confident of her superiority and Bruce to be doing his level best to keep them all happy, even if it meant ignoring the bastard child he’d accidentally sired. Because he was that bastard child, and he could take it. His past had made him strong. He wasn’t sure he could say the same for them, wasn’t sure they could withstand the opposite, the change. It just took seeing them up close to realize how he truly felt.
“There’s something you need to know.” Rod figured now was the time to say it. They might never be alone again, never have another opportunity.
Swerving to avoid a pothole in a road he must have navigated a million times, Bruce adjusted the air-conditioning, but the way he tensed made it clear he was preparing for more of the biting criticism Rod had thrown at him in recent years. “What’s that?”
“I forgive you. And that forgiveness is free. It doesn’t cost you anything. Not the sacrifice of your marriage. Or the relationship you have with Patrick. Or the positive memories of Stuart. Or a cent of your money. Or an acre of the farm. It’s completely free.”
Bruce stopped the truck. “You’ll get an equal share. I’ve already decided it. And nothing Edna says will ever change my mind. You’re in the will.”
“I believe you’d like to do that for me,” Rod said and, as he spoke, he knew it was true. He did believe his father’s remorse was real. “But you can take me out. I don’t need it. I’m okay just as I am. Except for one thing.”
Bruce seemed to be having difficulty accepting that Rod meant what he’d said. “What’s that?”
“I want you to forgive yourself, too.”
Tears began to streak down his cheeks. Embarrassed by his display of emotion, he averted his face and tried to wipe them away, but now that the veneer had cracked they wouldn’t stop coming. “Ah, I’m a mess,” he muttered into his hand.
“You’ve lost a son. I think you’re entitled.”
For the first time in Rod’s life, his father squeezed his shoulder with affection. “God, I’m proud of you,” he said.
Because Sophia was in a hurry, she didn’t get out of the Hummer. She pulled to the curb and called Rafe to tell him to come outside.
The phone rang four times. Then her voice mail picked up. Hello. This is Chief St. Claire….
She didn’t bother leaving a message.
The light was on in the living room. She could see it through the closed curtains. And she’d talked to Rafe less than five minutes ago. So where was he? Why wasn’t he answering?
Maybe he was using the bathroom.
She waited a couple of minutes and dialed a second time.
Again, there was no answer. If he was in the bathroom, he was taking a long time. Or did he think the call might be from his father? Was he trying to avoid a confrontation with Starkey?
Shoving the gearshift into Park, she turned off the engine, got out and locked the vehicle to protect the evidence she’d collected at the feed store. She was halfway to the house when she decided not to leave that information in the Hummer and went back to retrieve it. Where she was going to stash it, she didn’t know. Anyone who came looking for it would probably search her house. But it would be safer with her than left unattended in a car, even for a few minutes.
The locks made a thunking sound as she pressed the button on Rod’s key ring. She was about to open the passenger door when a car turned at the corner. From what she could see thanks to the streetlights, it appeared to be an old souped-up Ford Ranchero. She didn’t know whose it was, and the tinted windows made it impossible to see inside.