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Chapter 13
Blake
“What have you found?” I ask Howe when he sits in front of me again. “Talk to me.”
“I found James Ford,” Howe says. “He left quite a trail, so it wasn’t hard once you gave me that address.”
At the mention of my dad’s name, I stiffen.
“A trail?” I asked. I dread what he might be telling me—nothing my dad leaves behind can be good and after his history with violence… I shudder to think what he might have done.
“A long string of debt, mainly. A few nights in jail for belligerence, drinking too much, that kind of thing.”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. It’s ridiculous that my first thought is he might have killed someone. But that’s what growing up with a father who fell too deep into the bottle and instead of clawing his way out, ruined everything around him.
“And Lynn?” I ask softly.
The PI shakes his head. “I haven’t found her yet.”
“How haven’t you found one but not the other?” I ask, confused. “They were married.”
“Well…” Howe looks unsure of himself before he bows his head. “I’m sorry to say, but James Ford passed away a couple of years ago.”
“What?” I stare at Howe, trying to figure out the words he’s saying.
“He died of lung cancer in a hospital in Houston.”
“And Lynn Ford is nowhere to be found?”
“The last time anyone saw or heard of her was at the funeral, as far as I can tell,” the PI says. “But I’ll keep looking.”
“You do that,” I say in a clipped voice.
Howe stands. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he adds.
“Thanks,” I say. “Remember, not a word about this. To anyone.”
“I’ll keep it quiet, don’t you worry,” Howe says.
I don’t want my PI to talk. I don’t want him running around to the press about finding my parents—I don’t want anyone to know I was looking for them at all.
Austin Howe doesn’t know anything about my parents and my history with them, other than that, we lost contact and I’m trying to find them. That he knows they’re my parents is already too much information. But I didn’t have a choice—if I wanted him to find them, I had to be open with him about at least some of it.
I made him sign an NDA and if any of this leaks to the press and I can trace it back to him, I’ll sue him for everything he has. Austin Howe isn’t stupid; he knows a man like me can ruin him for the rest of his life.
The problem is that even if I do that, if the info is out, it’s out. No court case can take back what the public will know by then.
No, I won’t think about that. No use worrying about something that hasn’t happened and might never happen.
I want to find my mom to make things right. I left her that night, thirty years ago. I wasn’t wrong for what I did, but I’m still plagued by guilt.
And I want to find my dad so that I can know where the son of a bitch is hiding.
I don’t know what my plan was when I found him. I don’t know if I wanted revenge, or to forgive him, or to avoid him for good.
Now, that doesn’t matter. He’s gone.
The son of a bitch is dead.
