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“You know why. Dale and I are hotheaded enough without bringing my father into it. We think it’s best left among our generation for now.”
Donny nods. “I can’t fault your logic.”
“So are you in?”
“How about you, Callie?” Donny says to me.
“I…think this is a family thing.”
“Baby, you are family.”
“I doubt Dale is bringing Ashley along tonight.”
“I suppose you’re probably right. That means I can’t see you tonight, though.”
“It’s okay. Rory and I have a lot of things to talk about. Plus, we were thinking about going into Grand Junction to adopt dogs at the shelter this weekend. Maybe we can do it tonight instead.”
“Good enough.” Donny nods. “Count me in, then. Text me where to meet you and Dale. Why the hell didn’t he come to me with this?”
“He’s in the city, meeting with vendors all day. He’ll be home by seven.” Brock stands. “Good to see you both.” He leaves the office.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Donny says.
“What part of it?”
“The fact that Brock wants to leave his dad out of it. That can only mean one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s worried. He and Dale both. They’re worried we’re going to find something that will either implicate our fathers or send them on a rampage.”
I bite my lip. “Donny, you need to deal with your own family stuff. This Pat Lamone crap is small potatoes compared to what is going on with you.”
“There are no small potatoes, baby. We can get through all of this. Let’s go for a quick lunch, and then I’ll visit that fucking asshole Lamone.”
I nod.
Donny has everything under control.
I wish I felt the same.
CHAPTER TWENTY
DONNY
Five minutes. That’s all the time it took to find out that Pat Lamone is renting a room on the east side of town. Instead of calling him, I decided to see him in person. The house is owned by a widow, Carmelita Mayer. Her husband, Jensen Mayer, passed away a few years ago, and she rents out the rooms in her small house to help pay the mortgage he left her with.
I rap on the door quickly. A dog begins barking, a high shrill bark. Probably a small dog.
Then the door opens, and Mrs. Mayer shoos the dog out of her way. “Mr. Steel. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Mrs. Mayer. I’m sorry to bother you in the middle of the day, but I understand you have a new tenant in one of your rooms. Pat Lamone?”
“Yes, I don’t think he’s here right now.”
“Do you know where I might find him?”
“I know he’s working at the Snow Creek Inn.”
