Mattie wished she had reason to take him away from the home and keep him safe with her. And what was she going to do about Brody?
Chapter 20
Mattie drove to the school. A quick check at the back proved that Fran had indeed told the truth: O’Malley appeared hard at work, loading debris from an old shed into his battered truck. She spent the last hours of her shift driving around town, checking the local hot spots, and pondering what she was going to do with her suspicions about Brody. Checking local hot spots turned out to be easy since the streets and hangouts looked pretty much dead. No one was at the park today, all was peaceful on Main and at the Pizza Palace, and Clucken House was still closed.
But deciding what she was going to do about Brody proved to be much more difficult. She thought about her conversation with Tommy. When he first mentioned Brody, it was in conjunction with Mike Chadron and the dogs. She suspected Tommy knew more about the cocaine traffic through town than he was saying, but why would he implicate Brody? Unless Brody really did have something to do with drug traffic. But Tommy might have also been trying to draw her attention away from himself to mislead her. She shouldn’t rush to conclusions too quickly.
But then there was also this golf tournament thing, possibly putting Brody in Phoenix when the murder weapon was stolen.
Shit! There was nothing worse than a dirty cop. She’d known Brody for seven years, and it was hard to believe he might have turned. But the evidence was mounting against him.
On her way back to the station, she drove past the O’Malley place one last time, but there was nothing to be seen. She made a mental note to call the mine in Rigby in the morning to determine if the O’Malleys were on the payroll there.
When she checked in at the station, she learned that Brody had left for the day. The duty roster told her that he’d signed out right at the end of shift, which was unusual for him. He usually hung around for a bit, making sure no one signed out early or put in any unauthorized overtime.
Stella had left for home, taking the diary with her. She would probably be able to brief them on information it might contain about the case by morning. Mattie finished up her paperwork, said good-night to Rainbow, and then she and Robo left for the day.
Cole moved about the kitchen, heating the casserole from the Brennamans and guiding Sophie in her salad-making adventure. Angela had taken her cell phone up to her room, presumably to talk to a friend. He hoped the conversation with another girl from their friendship circle would do them both some good. Sophie stood on a step stool while he supervised her using a paring knife to cut celery. She had a pretty good technique going, using the knife exactly how he demonstrated, so he let his mind wander.
After Belle left, both kids had barely picked at their lunch. It had been a hard afternoon primarily filled with movies and television and occasional sniffles as one or the other of them teared up. He was going to have to come up with something to distract everyone, himself included, for the evening.
“These carrots are tough,” Sophie said, forcing his attention back to her as she sawed on a baby carrot.
“Let me help you,” he said, placing a hand over hers on the knife handle. Together they finished up. “You put the salads on the table, and I’ll get out the casserole.”
It smelled delicious as he placed the dish on the table and took off the hot lid. It looked like a tuna concoction with soup and broccoli mixed in and crushed potato chips on top. The scent wafted up and made his stomach growl. He realized with a feeling of guilt that his appetite had kicked back in tonight, the first time since learning of Grace’s death. “Sophie-bug, go get Angie,” he said.
When she returned, she said, “She’s not hungry,” and took a place at the table, dragging her old stuffed rabbit with her. Until today, Cole hadn’t seen that thing in years.
“She’s got to eat.” Cole went to the bottom of the stairway and called up. “Angie?”
Angie yelled from inside her room. “What, Dad?”
“You’ve got to eat something. Come join us.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Come anyway.”
“Dad!”
“Come on, now. Sophie made a salad and everything. You’ve got to come down and try to eat at least a little bit.”
“Oh, all right.” There was a long pause while Cole assumed she was saying good-bye to her friend. Then her bedroom door opened, and she started down the stairs looking ashen and weary. Concern made him decide on an early bedtime for everyone.
Once seated, Cole dished out a heaping portion of the tuna casserole for each of them while Angela gave him a stare that would have wilted a lesser man. “What kind of salad dressing do you want, Sophie?”
She removed the rabbit’s ear from her mouth to respond. “Ranch.”
“Here, let me have that rabbit and put him on the chair over here by me so you can eat.”
He tried not to flinch when his fingers learned that the rabbit was wet clear down to its shoulders. He was going to have to lose this thing before bedtime.
They ate in silence, Angela picking at her meal while he and Sophie dug in to theirs. Cole noticed, however, that Sophie picked out the broccoli to leave on her plate while Angela sifted through the casserole, eating bites of broccoli and leaving the chips. “At least take one bite of broccoli, squirt,” he said, using Liv’s one-bite-required rule. Without thinking, he added, “That’s what your mother would want.”
Fork poised in midbite, Angela glared at him. “Mom’s not here, Dad.”
“I guess not, but it’s a good rule.”
“Then tell her you want her to eat it. Don’t bring up Mom. She wants nothing to do with us.”
Stricken, Sophie rose from her chair and started around the table toward the rabbit. Cole caught her with one arm and lifted her up to his lap. “Sit here for a minute, Sophie. Let’s talk.”
He wrapped his arms around the child and focused his gaze on his oldest. “Angel, we can’t say your mom wants nothing to do with you.”
“Well, she won’t let us visit her. Even though we’ve been in Denver most of the summer, she wouldn’t let us come over.”
“I know, I know. Your mom’s having a tough time right now. You know the doctor has put her on some medicine, and she’s getting some counseling. She just needs a little time. She’ll get better.”
“Before she left, I heard Mom tell Marci on the phone that you’re never around,” Angela said. “You never help her with us kids, and you never listen to her.”
A pain flared up in Cole’s midsection, and the tuna casserole he’d consumed became a lump in his stomach. Marci, Liv’s old college roommate, had welcomed her into her home and made it easy for Olivia to leave her family and never look back. But Olivia’s words were what truly hurt. Because even though he wanted to deny it, he recognized them as partially true.
“I know I’ve been too busy at work, but it’s how we make a living. It’s how I pay for our house and put food on our table. And what went on between your mom and me is our business alone,” he said, giving his eldest a pointed look.
Sophie put her thumb in her mouth, another habit long past, and Cole could feel the tension in her small, sturdy body. He gave her a little squeeze.
“One of the things I’ve learned lately is that communication goes two ways, you guys,” he said. “I hope that’s something we can remember as we go on from here.”