Page 137 of Family Affair

He rounded on the housekeeper. “Where’s Father?”

Wordlessly, she pointed her finger upstairs.

He brushed past her and took the stairs two at a time, and unceremoniously let himself into his parents’ bedroom suite.

The adjoining bathroom door opened, and Rick emerged.

“Frank?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes, Frank.” He was about to blow up like an overinflated tire, with a loud bang and lots of small debris.

His father gathered as much. “A bad day?”

“A bad year. And listen to this. An interview is coming out next week where aninside sourcewill dish out on Ward Williamson, the ringleader of a forgery gang. Do you know anything about it?”

Rick’s head snapped back. “Huh.”

“Does Ward know about it?”

Instead of answering, Rick slowly walked to the closet and pulled out a set of golfing clothes. He obviously had plans for the afternoon as well.

Disregarding Frank, he took off his shirt, revealing a strong torso covered in dense black hair. His father was in a better shape than his twenty-three year-old self. Frank thought fleetingly that soon he’d have time aplenty to hit the prison gym to catch up.

“There isn’t a way to completely avoid the disaster, but there are ways to deflect it,” Rick said.

“By trying to blame it all on Ward?”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Frank was burning up from within, like he had a fever. He started pacing. “What did you tell Stevie?”

Rick bristled. “Don’t take this tone with me, boy. You will know when you read it.”

“It won’t come out. I won’t have it.”

His announcement elicited a chuckle. “There are a lot of things you can’t control, and the publication of my interview next week is one of them. I want it to come out. It will go a long way toward making us look good compared to Ward.”

“You should be grateful, Frank,” a new voice entered their argument. Cade was standing in the door, also wearing golf shorts and a polo, clearly here to team up with their father for a round or two. “We’ll have public opinion on our side. The jury might yet pity you, the poor young victim of a greedy corrupt priest.”

“You knew about the interview?” Frank was flabbergasted. And then he laughed. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Cade shrugged. “It doesn't matter whose idea it was…”

“Wasn’t it?”

Cade fell silent.

“I could strangle Stevie Stark for approaching him and letting the cat out of the bag,” Rick grumbled and put on his golf polo in angry jerks. “What the hell was he thinking?”

“He wanted to know if I had anything to offer to the discussion,” Frank said bitterly.

“Moron,” Rick muttered and cinched his belt.

Frank made another attempt. “The interview isn’t necessary. I never said anything about you when they interrogated me, like I never said anything about Ward. Not even to my lawyer. I promised I wouldn't, and you agreed, and that was how things stood. What changed?” Frank glanced at Father when he asked it, but in reality he addressed his question to Cade.

His brother looked as if he was weighing his words.

And Frank knew.