Page 35 of A Week Away

“How do you know that?”

“I found your baby book. It looks like Heather gave it to your mother at her baby shower. She included a list of the people who were there.”

“What else does it say?”

That was awkward. “Nothing. Your mom didn’t fill out any of the pages.”

Cass was quiet a moment, and then softly he said, “She was probably busy.” Then he raised his voice, “What about other people?”

“What do you mean?”’

“I’ve been thinking. What if my mother had nothing to do with it?”

“Then explain what she was doing in Reno selling your dad’s identity?”

“We don’t know for sure that was her. A woman in a purple coat was there. That’s all the girl said.”

“A woman in a purple coat with long black hair and a five-year-old.”

“No. I said long black hair. You said five-year-old. She just didn’t say we were wrong. So we still could be.”

Great. He was paying attention. Not necessarily a good thing with a teenager. I said, “Fine. Your mother had nothing to do with it. So what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I want you to find out.”

My jaw tensed and nearly bit the inside of my cheek. After exhaling slowly, I said, “Gavin said your dad got in trouble with the mob, The Partnership. That’s how he ended up dead.”

“He wasn’t in the mob.”

“He might have borrowed money from them and might not have been able to pay it back. Your parents were having money problems. Your Aunt Suzie told us that.”

“Maybe,” he said reluctantly.

“Was your dad active in the union? That could have gotten him into trouble.”

“Maybe. I don’t know,” he said, brightening a bit. If organized crime killed him for resisting corruption, that would make him a hero. I could see how that might appeal to a kid

Our breakfasts arrived and were dropped in front of us. The only sounds we made for about five minutes were chewing and grunts of pleasure. When we were done, Cass burped. He tried to be subtle about it but didn’t manager it. “Excuse me.”

“It happens.”

“So how do we prove it?”

“Prove what?”

“That my dad was killed because he was in the union.”

“He wasn’t killed just because he was in the union. He’d have had to be important enough to get his hands on the dues money. The Partnership would have wanted him to embezzle and give the cash to them. Something like that.”

“Okay. Prove that.”

My gut said this was a wild goose chase. At the far end of the building there was a pay phone on the wall.

“Do you have a quarter?”

“No.”

The waitress came back and reached for our plates. Before she got her hands on them, I said, “I’ll add an extra dollar to your tip if you loan us a quarter for the payphone.”