Page 12 of I’ll Be Watching You

He nodded. “I remember.”

“We like each other. It’s new. But he’s a good guy. He cooks. In fact, he made me pasta and homemade gelato last night. Can you believe that?”

“Impressive,” Dad said. “You deserve it.”

Dad might have been the only one in my family who hadn’t been all in when I dated Rick Devlin. I asked, “Why didn’t you think Rick and I would work?”

He tilted his head, looked at me strangely, as if surprised by the question. Which I suppose he should be because I don’t think I ever asked for his approval on any man I dated, even though I always wanted it.

“Rick is a good man,” he said. “But you were both holding back. Rick, because of his daughter. She came first, as she should. And you also held back because of his daughter.”

“I love Samantha.” I had been willing, wanting, to be her stepmom. I felt closer to her than any other young person, even my own nephew Austin. And Sam had confided in me that she had never felt close to her mother, who’d divorced Rick and moved to Europe when Sam was six.

“Of course you do. But if a relationship is going to work, especially a second marriage, you have to be partners in everything, including raising children, even if you’re not the biological parent. Rick couldn’t accept that, and you held back because you knew it.”

I opened my mouth then closed it. He was right. “I’ve only been seeing Cal two months. I’ll see how it goes.”

“Good. Let me know what he cooks for you next,” Dad said with a wide grin.

Now or never. How to start?

“Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I figured, since this visit was sudden.”

Rip the Band-Aid off. “One of your former nurses, Liz Swanson, called me last night.”

Dad tensed. Subtle, but defensive. I straightened my spine, and my resolve.

“She noticed a year missing in one of her patient records. She remembered he was one of your patients, and he’d also been a patient of Dr. Klein. When she checked later, his entire file was gone.”

“Margo, I told you I will not talk about this. Anything else, but—”

I interrupted. “She was murdered this morning. Not ten minutes before we were supposed to meet.”

He visibly recoiled, either at the news or my bluntness.

“Dad, I know you didn’t kill Dr. Klein. Now’s the time to tell the truth.”

His eyes watered, but he held back the tears. He shook his head. “Leave it alone,” he whispered. “Please.”

I slammed my fist on the metal table. Both guards looked over at us. Dad was surprised. I was usually slow to anger. But when I snapped, I was fierce.

“No.” My voice remained quiet but firm.

We stared at each other. I loved my dad more than anyone. He was my rock, my compass, my mentor. We argued on occasion, sure, sometimes even a bit heated, but always with love and respect.

Until he told us he’d killed Devin Klein and was turning himself in.

I knew he was lying then. Now I saw the pain and fear in his eyes before his gaze dropped and his hands clasped tightly in front of him.

“Margo, leave it. You have to.”

“Why? You’re already in prison. Tell me what happened, and I’ll fix it. No more secrets, no more lies. Tell me the truth.”

“I love you, Margo,” he said. “Ava was in a car accident when she was five months pregnant with you.”

“I know—”