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Cleaners had been here. Not just run-of-the-mill cleaning service, but true cleaners. People specially equipped to remove any possible evidence that a crime had been committed. According to my father, Patty had not been killed here, but traces of her blood might have been recoverable.
Hence, the cleaners.
That my father knew of such things still made my blood run cold.
I’d learned more about George Steel since his run-in with Dr. Pelletier than I ever imagined possible.
Cleaners. God.
The door creaked open, and I turned.
My father’s silhouette was dark against the sun shining in through the doorway. “Hello, son.”
“Dad.”
He closed the door. “Did anyone see you come in here?”
“Who could have possibly seen me? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“Always keep your eyes open,” he said.
“I do. Believe me. And I’ve seen more this past year than I ever wanted to see.”
“It’s not always pleasant,” he said, “but being aware keeps you cautious. Keeps you safe. There’s safety in knowledge.”
I held back a scoff. Watching my father hold a gun to another human being kept me safe? In what world did that make any sense at all?
Except that it did.
I’d learned a lot that day. A lot about my father. A lot about how the world worked. A lot about the power of having another’s life in your hands.
It was power I never wanted. Power I might have to wield in the future.
Or now.
Dad was here to discuss Wendy.
“I couldn’t get him to lock her up any longer,” I said.
“You could have. You and I both know you could have.”
“Yeah, maybe. I decided not to go your route.” Not yet, anyway.
“You can’t go soft, son.”
“I’m not soft. I’ve never been soft, Dad, and you know it.” How could I have been, being raised as his son? This was the man who’d made me watch two beloved calves get slaughtered. Forced me to keep my eyes open.
No, I was anything but soft.
But I still had my soul. I wasn’t quite ready to sell it off yet.
“I talked to Wendy. She claims she’s changed. That she’s sorry for everything.”
“Talk is cheap.”
“I know that. I didn’t say I believed her. Her parents do, though. I just came from their place. They’re convinced she’s a changed woman.”
“Where is she now?”
“She’s back in Denver. She’s returning to college to get her degree in journalism.”
“Still a little too close for comfort,” Dad said.
“Agreed.”
“I can get her to transfer to someplace on the east coast,” he said. “Arrange for an offer she can’t refuse.”
“She’d see right through that.”
“So? If I can get her into a program at Harvard or Yale free of charge, why wouldn’t she take it? It’d be a huge boon to her.”
“You can try. My bet is she’ll turn it down.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know her, Dad. I know her better than anyone does. She won’t leave her parents.” And she won’t leave me.
Oh, she swore we were all safe from her, but I didn’t believe a word of it.
“Besides,” I continued. “Keep your friends close, and keep your enemies closer.”
“That’s good advice.”
“It is. You said that to me a long time ago.”
“I wish I’d come up with it. But it’s true, no matter what. Good call, son. We’ll leave her right where she is.”
“I’ve got twenty-four-hour surveillance on her,” I said.
“Another good call.”
“It won’t take long before she’s onto them, though. Wendy figures everything out.”
“A cunning mind inside that one.”
“You’re telling me.” I cocked my head. “I’m wondering, Dad…”
“What?”
“Why? Why didn’t you tell me about her long ago?”
“A man has to make his own mistakes.”
I shook my head. “I don’t get it. You’re obviously not squeamish about pulling guns on people, so—”
“Wait a minute. What makes you say that?”
“Because I saw you do it. You were icy. Not one bit of a quiver.”
“Doesn’t mean I like doing it. I might be good at it—I’ve learned to be—but I hate doing it. I do what I have to do to protect those I love.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you take care of Wendy long ago?”
“I’ve told you before. I’m not a killer. Never was.”
“But if you wanted to protect me—”
He sighed. “Don’t think I didn’t consider it. I’ve considered some pretty abhorrent things.”
“Why, then? You could have sent her away, gotten her away from me.”
“I could have.”
“So why—”
“As I said, a man has to learn from his mistakes. Besides, by the time I realized what Wendy Madigan was truly capable of, it was too late.”
I stared at my father, at his sad eyes. He wasn’t lying. No one—even me, at first—could comprehend everything inside Wendy’s head.
He cleared his throat, then. “I’m going away for a while.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What for? And where?”
“I need to go on the down low. Someone nearly recognized me yesterday in Pueblo.”
“Who?”
“One of our old hands. Don’t worry. I took care of him.”
