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“You’re right. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of that.”
“Because you’ve had other stuff on your mind,” she says. “We both have.”
“True enough,” I agree. “I’m going to go make sure everything’s okay with Donny’s dad. I’ll check in with you later. Before dinner.”
“I’ll deal with dinner on my own. You and Donny go out and have a nice dinner alone.”
“Rory…”
“I insist. Please. I’ll just be a third wheel, and I’d rather have room service and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.”
“You sure?”
“For God’s sake, Callie.” She grabs one of the pillows from the bed and throws it at me. “I’m sure. Now get out of here.”
I smile. “Thanks, Ror. What about the box, though?”
“Crap. That’s something else I need to lay on you. The bank’s open tomorrow until noon, but the manager called. They can’t get a locksmith here until Monday. I have to stay here in Denver.”
“But Donny has to be back in Snow Creek by Monday.”
“I know. I guess I’ll fly back.”
“I’ll stay with you.”
“No, Cal. This is on me. I was the adult back then.”
“No argument. I’ll talk to Donny. He’ll understand.”
I leave and walk the few steps to Donny’s and my room, when the door bursts open.
“Callie!” His eyes are circles. “Come on. You’ve got to help me.”
Chapter Forty-One
Donny
“What? What is it? Is it your dad?” Callie nearly screams.
“No, no. Dad’s fine. I… God, I’m such a moron. Come on.” I grab her arms and nearly drag her toward the elevators. I push the down button. Would the stairs be quicker? We’re ten flights up. “Come on!” I push the button incessantly.
Finally, an elevator opens. I rush in, Callie behind me.
“Donny,” she says. “What’s wrong?”
“I just lost a valuable piece of evidence,” I say. “It literally blew away.”
“What?”
“It’s a long story, Cal. Fuck it all. Just come on. I need your help.”
“You want me to get Rory?”
“Yeah, actually. That’d be great. Tell her to meet us outside the hotel right under where our rooms are.”
She taps on her phone while I berate myself further. If I hadn’t been so weirded out about the possibility of anthrax.
If…
If…
If…
My phone buzzes. Dale. “What?” I say, sounding more cross than I mean to.
“I was looking at the coordinates,” he says.
“The coordinates?” A wave of calm settles over me. I laugh. I laugh like a maniac. “I sent you a photo. Of the document.”
“Uh…yeah. You did. I figured you wanted me to—”
“Dale, I swear to God if you were in this elevator with me right now, I’d plant one right on your mouth.”
“Dude, you’re freaking me out here.”
Relief swarms through me. “Man, you know I hate drugs, but right now I could swallow a whole bottle of downers. I’m on edge, man. Fucking on edge. I almost risked my career, and now, because I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, I nearly cost us everything.”
“Slow down, Don. What the hell happened?”
Callie’s eyes widen as she listens to me tell the story of the paper flying away with the wind. How I was so freaked out I forgot I’d shot a photo of the damned thing.
“Easy,” Dale says when I finally pause. “You need a break from all this.”
“No shit.”
“Let it go, man. Don’t carry the weight of all this on your shoulders. That’s a big brother’s job.”
“Stop protecting me, damn it.”
“Touché. Try to enjoy the rest of your stay in Denver. You need to relax. Book a massage or something.”
I eye Callie. “I don’t want a massage, but I know what I do want.”
“I don’t need the details, dude. But take the time. We’ll jump on this Monday. Do you want me to bring Uncle Joe and Brock in on the new info?”
My stomach jolts. Do I? “I don’t know, Dale.”
“You still having second thoughts about them?”
“Not about Brock.”
“I hear you, but if we bring Brock in, there’s no leaving out Uncle Joe.”
“I know.” I inhale deeply. “Let me think about it. Can this wait until tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but I’m going to check out these coordinates.”
“I should be with you.”
“Don, come on. You need this time. Take it. Have some fun with your woman. You’re wound up, man. I’ve never seen you like this. It’s like you’re…me.”
A chuckle erupts from my throat, even though what Dale said is far from amusing. In fact, it’s so apt it’s frightening.
“All of this… It’s bringing back a lot of things I prefer not to dwell on.”
“I know, Don. I know.”
“Sometimes…”
I jolt as the elevator doors open.
And the past unfurls before my eyes.
The doorbell.
Dale and I are latchkey kids. That’s what we’re called at school. We were in daycare until Dale turned ten. Daycare was okay, but I was always happy when Mommy came to pick us up in the evening. Then we’d go home, and we’d watch TV while she made supper.
But one night was different. Mommy sat us down and talked to us very seriously.
