Lydia gave him a withering look, then turned to me. “Any other news about Dylan, Sunny?” she said. “Or is that all?”
“Is that all?” Bill said. “Did you honestly just ask that when this woman has just told us that our son is both a psychopath and a murderer?”
“He is alive,” I said. “So…there’s also that.”
“Oh, yes, we’re well aware ofthat,” Bill said.
I cleared my throat. “To answer your question,” I said to Lydia. “There’s only one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Well…He apparently owes a good deal of money.”
“To whom?” Lydia said.
“A man by the name of Moon Monaghan,” I said. “He’s thought to be within the Burke crime syndicate.”
Bill was close to purple now. “What does he owe the money for?”
I stared down at my consommé. Balthazar returned with his cart. I was grateful for the interruption, as it was an excuse to stay silent, even for a few minutes. Balthazar removed our bowls and placed dishes in front of us. Salad Nicoise with seared rare tuna and the welcome addition of fresh crab. Thehard-boiled eggs were perfectly done. It all looked incredible. But sadly, at this point, I’d completely lost my appetite.
Once Balthazar left, I turned to Bill. “As I understand,” I said quietly, “it’s for some designer drugs that he purchased.”
Bill slammed his hand on the table. His salad shivered from the impact. “I told you, Lydia,” he said. “I told you.”
“You do not know it was him,” Lydia said.
“Of course it was him,” Bill said. “Who else could it possibly be?”
“Mistake,” Lydia said. “Clerical error. Why must you always assume the worst of Dylan?”
“Excuse me?” he said. “Did you happen to hear what this woman has just told us?”
It was the second time over the course of five minutes that he’d referred to me as “this woman,” as though I was some stranger on an elevator. It annoyed me. But I wasn’t about to say anything about it.
“I heard what she told us, Bill,” Lydia said. “But have you not heard of the phraseinnocent until proven guilty? What if Dylan has been kidnapped and he’s being forced to make these audio recordings and send them to this young girl? What if it was one of his kidnappers who killed the chemist—perhaps just to make our son look bad? To prove correct all the awful things you’ve always believed about him?”
“You’re delusional, Lydia,” Bill said.
“I am not,” Lydia said. “Sunny. Isn’t what I said possible?”
“Yes,” I said. “It’s possible.” I turned my attention to my salad.I took a small forkful of the crab and put it in my mouth. I chewed and swallowed. It was heavenly. I topped it off with a swallow of iced tea. “Mr. Welch,” I said. “You mentioned a reason you knew of, as to why Dylan might go into hiding.”
“He doesn’t know of anything,” Lydia said.
I kept looking at Bill.
“I don’t know if you passed him on your way in, but Gonzo’s chief financial officer was just here,” Bill said. “His name is Martin Jennings.”
“Yes, I saw him.”
“Martin is a good man, but he’s been known to jump to conclusions,” Lydia said.
“No, he hasn’t been known to do anything of the sort,” Bill said.
“Why did he come to your home?” I said.
“Apparently,” Bill said, “someone has been siphoning money from the company’s payroll fund for the past several weeks. Our son and Martin are the only ones able to access that money. At first, it was done in small increments and went unnoticed, but lately the sums removed have been much larger. And now that you tell us that Dylan is definitely alive and owes money—”
