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“Who?” I tap my checkbook.
He glances down. “My clients are confidential. No amount of money can change that.”
“Everyone has a price, Mr. Dane. Even those who are discreet, professional, and affordable.”
He chuckles, picks up the check, examines it for a moment. “Not everyone. I really love my job. And I have a license I’m not willing to lose.”
“Then what the hell are we doing here? You could have just told me this over the phone, saved us both the time.”
Pinching his lips together, Jackson reaches inside his back pocket and pulls out another one of his business cards, sliding it across the table. “What we’re doing here is allowing me to complete the job I was hired for.”
I look at him, waiting for clarification with chills running down my spine. Jesus, does he want me to beg for it? “What kind of cryptic pronouncement is that?”
“You have a sibling. Someone wanted me to contact you. That’s all, really.”
Shock nudges me. “A sibling?”
“Half sibling, to clarify.”
I wouldn’t have been able to predict this outcome if given a million chances to guess. “So, what … a brother? Sister?”
“Mmmm,” he mumbles, bobbing his head. “I’m not at liberty to say. There’s a number on the back of that card. When you’re ready to meet them, call that number and set it up.”
As he gets up from the table, my mind is a spinning top of thoughts.
“Whoa, wait. If I have a sibling who went to the trouble of hiring you to locate me, how do they know for sureI’mtheir sister?”
He flips his sunglasses down over his face and walks off. I don’t stop him. I know this is all I’m going to get. I wonder how long it would have taken him to catch me at home. At least I got this information in a public park, not on my own turf.
I flip the card over and see a local number. I dial it and it rings once before I end the call, nervous and shaking.
I’ve got a brother or sister out there. Who’s looking for me.Lookedfor me and found me.
I start walking back to my car, wondering which parent we share. If it’s my mom she must have had them before I was born. I’m pretty sure I would remember her being pregnant. Unless I was still a baby, which is a possibility.
If the common DNA thread is Daddy, then does he know? If so, I’ll be sick. I’m already sick. What if he does know and he goes to visit them every time he leaves town? And why wouldn’t he just tell me I have a brother or sister? He could be the one who hired Jackson. The two of them could be collaborating this whole thing.
No. That can’t be. Daddy wouldn’t need to hire a P.I. to help someone find me. And the more I think about it, I realize … Jackson never actually said he was hired to find me. Someone hired him tocontactme.
Like they’ve known their entire life that I exist. Maybe I’m overthinking this, picking apart every single word he said.
On the drive home I call Rigger. He’ll know what to do, or what to say to calm these frayed edges of mine down. He can let me know if I should arrange a meeting because right now I don’t know what to do. Not with me feeling like I could be on the cusp of finding King.
When Rigger doesn’t answer I leave a message to call me, that it’s urgent. And next on my list is Daddy, but even he isn’t answering. It’s like everyone is secretly conspiring to avoid me or pop some massive surprise on me with a lot of questions that can’t be answered right away, if ever.
In the meantime, all I can do is play the waiting game.
And that’s not a game I’ve ever been good at.
This night calls for a stiff drink. And maybe a bowl of ice cream big enough to induce a coma or diabetes, one. I stop by the store on the way home and pick up everything I need to make that happen.
Once back at my place, I toss some salad lettuce on a plate so I can feel like I ate something remotely healthy. But everyone knows salad is what you make when you’re too bummed to make anything else.
I also bite the bullet and send Daddy a message.
Call me when you get a chance. It’s important.
Once that’s sent, I start filling a bowl with Rocky Road. Ritz comes puttering around, begging for ice cream like he always does.
