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Joy, Burke’s office manager, was waiting at the entry, tapping her fingers on the arm of her wheelchair when Gabe and Molly arrived. Her smile was professional, her demeanor polite but firm. “Burke’s waiting in the conference room. The Houston crowd is pushing for answers, but he told them he was waiting for you. So hurry on up before the Texans revolt.”
This is it, Gabe thought while following Molly into a conference room with a large table where Burke waited, looking none too patient. This is when I find out who Xavier was to my dad.
Gabe stopped short.
There he was. Xavier Morrow. A twenty-two-year-old Black man. The friend that my father never told me about. The friend that my father gave a lot of money to.
Xavier looked exhausted but appeared to be holding up okay. He was flanked on his left by his mother, who looked just like the photo he and Burke had found that morning.
Just this morning? Time really does fly when you’re having fun.Or running from hit men. Whatever.
On Xavier’s right was a Latino man who looked to be about the same age. Carlos, probably. On Carlos’s other side was a slightly older man who looked enough like Carlos that to assume they were brothers was a safe bet. He’d be Manny.
On Cicely Morrow’s left was a woman who appeared to be around sixty, also Black. This would be the minivan’s driver, Willa Mae. She had narrowed her eyes at Gabe the moment he’d walked in. Not in a mean way, but in an I-see-you-so-don’t-try-anything way.
Molly made a beeline for a nearby platter of sandwiches. She put together two plates and carried them to the table. “Gabe?”
He realized that he’d been standing there. Gaping like a fool. He joined them at the table, taking the seat directly across from Xavier. Drawing a breath, he reached his hand across the table. “Xavier. I’m Gabe Hebert. Rocky’s son.”
Xavier shook his hand, his grip firm. “I know. He told me all about you. Showed me your pictures. You look just like him.”
Ignoring the plate that Molly slid in front of him, Gabe kept his gaze locked with Xavier’s. “I’m afraid to say that he didn’t tell me about you. I just learned that you exist this morning.”
“How?” Cicely Morrow asked sharply. “Rocky always swore that no one could connect us. If he didn’t tell you himself, how did you find us?”
“That would be because of me, ma’am,” Molly said. “I’m Molly Sutton. I talked to you on the phone today. I work for Burke, and Gabe came to us yesterday, concerned about the circumstances of his father’s death. I was checking into Rocky’s financials and found a check he’d written to you six years ago. After that, the same amount was deposited monthly into an account called John Alan Industries.”
Cicely sighed. “I worried about that check for a long time. I’d almost forgotten about it.”
Xavier was frowning. “What do you mean, the circumstances of Rocky’s death?”
Gabe swallowed. “He didn’t commit suicide.”
Xavier’s whole body sagged, his eyes growing shiny with tears. “I didn’t think he would. I didn’t think he could. That means he was...” His voice broke. “Murdered?”
“We think so,” Gabe replied, amazed that his voice was steady. Inside he was a shaking mess. “I need to know, Xavier. How are you connected to my father?”
Xavier blinked, sending a tear down each of his cheeks. “He saved my life. In Katrina. I was five.”
Carlos leaned forward, clearly interested. “And that’s all we know. So spill, man. I’m dying over here.”
Xavier sputtered what might have been a laugh. “Okay, hermano. Okay.” He folded his hands on the table in front of him and looked Gabe straight in the eye. “My mother—my birth mother—died in the flood. I don’t remember my birth father.” He straightened his spine. “My last memory of my birth mother was when she pushed me through the hole she’d chopped in the attic roof. I was safe, but she wasn’t. I remember her hands, clutching at the air, trying to grab for the roof, to pull herself up. But she couldn’t. She drowned.”
Gabe’s throat closed, and beside him, Molly gasped softly. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“Very sorry,” Gabe echoed hoarsely. Relief that his father had not cheated on his mother was eclipsed with sorrow for the horror a five-year-old Xavier had experienced while witnessing his mother’s death. “You must have been so scared.”
Xavier nodded. “Yeah. I was. I sat there for a while. I thought it was hours, because I was five years old. Might have been an hour. Hard to say. Other people were on their roofs, too. Help was coming, they told me. I just wanted my mother.”
This was all new information for everyone at the table, except for Cicely Morrow. She laid her hand over Xavier’s folded ones in silent support. The others—Carlos, Manny, Willa Mae, and even Burke—looked stricken. A glance from the corner of his eye revealed Molly wiping her eyes.
“Was my father the help that was coming?” Gabe asked.
“Yes. They came in rowboats and motorboats. Your dad was in one of the motorboats. I could see them coming down the street, which was flooded over the one-story houses by this point. Our house was one story, but it had a steep roof. That’s where I was. And that’s when I saw the white lady in the house next door. It was two stories, and she was in the upstairs bedroom. She was packing a suitcase.”
Gabe held his breath, waiting, afraid of what he believed was coming.
“And then?” Burke prompted softly.
