I drove to my dad’s office, which was on the ninth floor of the medical building next to the hospital. He had a spacious waiting room with a slate tile fountain on one wall. I glanced around at the three people in the waiting room. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too busy to see me.
Sally Jenson had been my dad’s receptionist forever. “Rosalyn, honey, it is so good to see you.” She came out of the inner office and hugged me. “You look good.”
I had always liked Sally. She would sneak peppermint candy to Jacks and me on the rare occasions when we visited the office. Although she had to be in her sixties now, she hadn’t changed much. Her blonde hair was styled a little differently than when I had last seen it, but other than that, she looked the same. I wondered what her secret was.
“You look great too, Sally. I like the hair.”
Her hand fluttered to it, smoothing back a strand. “Thanks. I just got it cut.” Her smile withered around the edges. “I’m not sure I like it.”
“Well, I do. It’s very flattering.”
“You’re good for my ego. Now, you want to see your father. Go on back. I think he can squeeze you in.” She winked.
The door to my father’s office stood open, so I went in and sat down. It seemed my mother had gotten her hands on my dad’s office space. I would recognize her bland beige thumb anywhere. Colorless paintings hung on taupe walls underlined by a thick tan carpet. It had been a long time since I had been here. Five years, to be exact. When I told my dad I didn’t want to go back to the all-girls school on Cell Block H.
My father walked in twenty minutes later, carrying a green patient folder with him. “What are you doing here?” He was as surprised to see me as Sally was. But I got a much warmer reception from her.
I shifted around in the cognac brown leather chair, uncomfortable, not only in the chair, but in this room. With my father.
He sat behind his desk and waited for my answer.
I squirmed and looked out the window. It was a beautiful day. The sky was a cloudless, brilliant blue. My gaze flitted back to him. “Thank you for the table and chairs. That was very generous of you.”
“It’s fine. Is that why you stopped by Rosa…Rose? A personal visit wasn’t necessary, I got your message.”
“No, that’s not why I’m here.” I shifted in the chair again then forced myself to sit still.
He looked me up and down, frowning. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“I’ve got something to tell you, but I need to know you’ll keep it to yourself.” I was asking him to keep something from my mom. As far as I knew, he’d never done that before. Taking a deep breath, I blew it out. “Under no circumstances is Mom to know anything about this.” I just wanted to clarify.
“I don’t know if I can do that, Rosa…Rose.”
“Okay.” I pulled my purse over my shoulder and stood. “Thanks again for the table.
“Wait.” He stared not at me, but at some fixed point over my shoulder. “All right, Rose, I’ll keep this between the two of us.”
Now I was beginning to have second thoughts. “No, it was wrong of me to ask.” I walked toward the door.
“Sit down.” The tone was the same one he used when I had been in real trouble, like when I put food coloring in the school fountain and Jenny Truman ratted me out.
I sat.
“I don’t have much time. Try to be concise.”
I started at the beginning with Axton’s disappearance and left nothing out. His expression became tighter and more concerned with each new revelation. When I finished there was a long silence.
“The Police Chief? City councilmen, the mayor? All bought off by this Sullivan?” He tipped his chair back and stared at the framed diplomas on the wall. “You’re sure about this?”
I removed the papers and memory cards from my bag and laid them on his desk. It took a while, but he methodically went through them, page by page, muttering to himself. Finally, when he was done, he stared at me with haunted eyes. “My God, what were you thinking?”
I had heard that a lot lately. Seemed not everyone thought highly of my decision making abilities. I straightened my shoulders. “I did what I had to do. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“You could have gotten yourself killed. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”
“What could you have possibly done? No offense, Dad, but you would have either not believed me or told me to go to the police. Which I did, by the way, and got nowhere. And that was before I found out the Chief of Police owed Sullivan money.”
“Damn it. What you did was so incredibly stupid and dangerous. I don’t ever want you doing something like this again, do you hear me, young lady?”
I smiled at his fatherly concern. It was nice to know he cared.
“I’m serious,” he said, when he saw my smile.
“I need you to keep these copies somewhere safe, Dad, in case, you know, something happens, or Sullivan comes after me. I put down his address and everything I found out about him, which wasn’t much.”
My father took a deep breath, and after a moment, glanced back at the papers. “Did you make more than one copy, I hope?”
“I made three. They’re all in different places. And remember, don’t tell Mom.”
“Trust me. This is one thing she’ll never know about. I’ll take care of it, Rosalyn. Don’t worry.”
I felt such relief when my dad said he’d take care of it. As if a knot in my stomach untangled and I didn’t even realize it was there. I wished I had always felt this from him, cared for, protected. It felt nice, like a warm blanket on a cold night.
“Thanks, Daddy.”
“You haven’t called me that since you were a very little girl.” We both stood and stared at each other, then our gazes slid away, uncomfortable with the closeness.
“Well, I’d better get going.”
He gestured at the copies I’d given him. “Yes, I have to deal with these.” He came around the desk and gave me a brief, one-armed hug, and awkwardly patted my back. “Be careful. No more dealing with criminals, okay?”
I smiled and said nothing as I walked out of his office.
Sally gave me another hug for the road and pushed a couple of peppermint candies in my hand before I left.
Chapter 33
Now for the part I’d been putting off. The part that made my hands shake and my chest hurt. It was time to visit Sullivan.
I could either wait for him and his menacing minions to find me, or I could come from a place of power and go to him. One might argue that going to him was coming from a place of sheer stupidity, a fly dive-bombing a spider’s web, but I felt more comfortable with initiative than I did with inertia.
As I drove out of Huntingford and got on the highway, my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, I began to feel the enormity of my actions. My dad was right, what had I been thinking? Sullivan must be livid I’d taken those files. No one screwed him over. He told me that. Breaking into his home, not to mention smashing his fancy bowl, attacking two of his employees, invading his private space, stealing personal files. Had to be a worse than owing him money.
Maybe it would be better to just keep driving and not stop until I got a safe distance away. About two thousand miles might do it. But then Sullivan might come after my family, like he did with Axton. Maybe I could offer up my mother. I smiled at the thought of my imperious mother snapping at Henry that he’d tied the rope binding her hands wrong, and that he should do it properly or not at all. But then I quickly sobered and thought of my sister and little Scotty. No, I had to finish this.
I was so lost in thought I almost missed my exit and had to make a hasty lane change to get off the highway. I drove up to Sullivan’s beautiful stone house with my heart beating twice as fast as normal. I turned in the circular drive and parked the car. Henry was out of the house and stalking toward me before I even had time to open the car door.