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I tried to move on. “So where’s Lemaire? Do you think he’s dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“So what do we do now? Do you think we should tell the cops?”
“No, not yet.”
“What about Stan? Not yet?”
“Yes, right.” I thought a minute. “If Stan calls, tell him you’re working on it.”
“What if Lemaire calls?”
“Take it, but be aware he could be recording you. What about Nancy and Connor? Did you send them away?”
“Yes, to her parents. She said she’d stay a week, maybe two.”
“Good.” I felt a wave of relief. “Did you see anything suspicious on your street?”
“No.”
“You should take a picture, morning and night. Make sure no one’s tailing you, like if you see a car that doesn’t belong to your neighbors.”
“I don’t know my neighbors’ cars. I barely know my neighbors. The lot size is four acres.”
“You get your baseball bat?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell Nancy about where we went during dinner?”
John hesitated, and I realized why.
“You told her I relapsed, too, didn’t you?”
“TJ, listen—”
“Really?” I felt furious all over again. “It’s wrong, John. It’s just wrong—”
“Is itthatbig a deal?”
“Yes, plus you justliedto me. You told me Dad suspected I relapsed, butyouthought of it.Youthought of the lie and told him.”
“TJ, it basically happened that way—”
“ ‘Basically’ isn’t the same thing!” I turned on my heel and headed for the door. “See you later.”
“Where are you going?”
I opened the door. “To a meeting,Dad.”
•••
I got in the Subaru, reeling. I couldn’t absorb the fact that my father thought I had relapsed. I couldn’t forget the look on his face, his disappointment bone-deep. I knew in my gut that I’d seen that expression before, on the worst day of my life.
Can you read, write, and understand the English language?
It was a judge speaking, the Honorable Deborah Rati-Jio, a former trial lawyer whom my father had helped elect to the bench. She was seated at the dais in the modern courtroom at the Chester County Justice Center. The afternoon sun struggled through the venetian blinds, and despite the air-conditioning, I was drenched in flop sweat.
