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“Ryan, stop that right now!” The woman spun and held up a sternly pointed finger at the child. “Go, get your things together.”
The boy ran out of the room, still yelling, “Pew! Pew!”
“Yes?” The woman turned to them with raised eyebrows.
Sandra stepped back. She looked so much like her father, it was eerie. From the shape and spacing between the eyes, the slight hook of the nose, and the dimpled chin. To think she was looking at his flesh and blood while he’d taken hers, stabbed like a knife. And there was no way in hell she was losing two people she loved because of the same man!
“Natalie Roth?” Brice said, stepping in when Sandra remained silent.
“Yeah…” She dipped her gaze back and forth between them.
“We’re FBI, here to discuss your father.” Brice held up his credentials, and Sandra followed his lead though she felt out of body.
“You’re mistaken. I don’t have a father. Good day.” She started to shut the door as a teenage girl walked up behind Natalie. She had long brown hair like Olivia.
“Mom, Ryan’s hid my gloves,” the girl said.
“You kids are going to be the death of me.” Natalie pushed on the door, giving them one more look.
“Please, Mrs. Roth,” Sandra said, stepping in. “It’s important and…” She lowered her voice before adding, “A teenage girl’s life is at stake.”
That had Natalie stopping all movement. It might have been a low blow to play, but Sandra wasn’t apologetic. The woman locked eyes with Sandra, and it was like they saw into each other’s souls. Mother to mother. Time slowed down.
“I’ve got five minutes, but that’s all. Jodi has a hockey game out of town today, and I’ve got to get us on the road.”
Jodi must be the teenager. And no wonder why the household was so chaotic midmorning on a Saturday. “We just need a few minutes, so all good.”
Natalie stepped back to let them inside, and Sandra and Brice wiped their boots on the mat in the entry. The womanstood there like she was prepared to have the conversation on the spot.
“It might be best if we could talk sitting down.” Sandra was thinking of Natalie here just as much as she was her weary bones. Brice had to be running on fumes and coffee too.
“Sure, but like I said, I don’t have long.” Natalie took them to a kitchen table. The neighboring countertops looked like a hurricane had passed through. From initial count, there were only two kids in the home, but there might as well have been ten from a quick assessment of the damage. There were dirty plates and bowls, frying pans and dried egg on the stovetop. A piece of toast was up in the toaster, abandoned or forgotten.
“Mom!” The teenager popped into the room.
“Ryan, give your sister her gloves back,” Natalie yelled out.
The boy’s cackling traveled from another part of the house.
“Do you have kids?” she asked and didn’t wait for an answer. “They’re why I’m sprouting gray hairs early.”
Sandra wondered where her husband was given all the excitement in the home and why he wasn’t pitching in, but she wasn’t here to dissect their domestic life. “How well do you know your father?”
“You said a teenage girl could be in trouble? But you want to discuss my dad?” She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not sure how they’re related. Besides, he’s in prison where he’s been most of my life.”
“Please, tell us whatever you know about him.”
“I mostly only know what my mother told me. She’s gone now though. Breast cancer took her a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” It was an automatic response but also genuine.
“Thanks. She meant the world to me. She was always reliable.”
The children seemed to have calmed down, and the resulting silence made Sandra’s ears ring.
“Mom made me promise on her deathbed that I’d never speak to Dad. She’d told me all my life that he was trouble. If he wasn’t looking for it, it was finding him.”
Maybe Patton was telling the truth at the hearing and hadn’t been in touch with his daughter. “Is that why you weren’t at his parole hearing?”