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Mentally prepping himself for whatever lay inside, Marc exited the car and strode up the walkway.
A young woman with faint purple shadows in the hollows beneath her eyes opened the door as he approached the porch. “Agent Davis?”
“Yes.” He closed the distance between them and extended his hand. “Ms. Butler, I assume.”
“Yes. Please come in.”
He followed her into a tiny foyer, and an older teen rose from a chair in the living room on the right to join them.
Marc shook his hand as Laura introduced her brother.
“Mom’s in the bedroom with Dad. The hospice nurse will be here soon, and our pastor is coming by too.” Laura pulled out a tissue and swiped it under her nose. “Sorry. It’s been a stressful night. Can I get you something to drink after your long drive?”
“No thanks. I stopped for breakfast and coffee on the road.”
“Then let me take you back. Dad declined overnight, andhe’s sleeping more and more, but he’s still lucid when he’s awake.”
She led him down a short hall to the last room on the left.
As she pushed the half-closed door open, a pale woman with grief-filled eyes and dark hair in need of brushing rose from her vigil beside the hospital-style bed, blocking Marc’s view of the face that went with the sheet-covered form next to her.
“Mom, this is Agent Davis.” Laura kept her volume low as she motioned her mother into the hall.
After a brief hesitation, the woman swiveled back to the bed and leaned down. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Joe.”
If Butler responded, it was audible only to his wife.
As she crossed to the door, Laura backed up to allow her to join them.
“Thank you for coming. I think Joe’s been hanging on just to talk to you.” The man’s wife extended her hand, and Marc took it.
Tremors coursed through her icy fingers.
“It was an easy decision, in light of the information your daughter shared with me.”
“Do you know what it’s all about?” The older woman’s puzzled expression suggested she was clueless about the reason for his summons.
“The information has meaning for me, but I have no idea what your husband knows about it—or how he knows about it.”
“If it convinced you to make this long drive on short notice, it must be important.”
“It could be. I’m hoping it is.”
“Mom.” Laura touched her arm. “I should take Agent Davis in.”
“Yes, of course. I didn’t mean to delay you. I’m not thinking very straight. Thank God Laura has handled most of the details.She’s been a rock.” The woman touched her daughter’s cheek, gratitude and love displacing the grief in her eyes for a brief instant. “I’ll wait in the kitchen until you’re finished.” She edged around Laura and continued down the hall.
Laura turned toward him. “Dad asked that we give the two of you space to have a private conversation. After I introduce you, I’ll join Mom in the kitchen until you’re finished.” Her brow crinkled. “We’re all baffled by this whole thing. I hope whatever Dad has to say makes your trip worthwhile.”
So did he.
“Only one way to find out.”
She took his cue and entered the room.
He followed and got his first clear view of Joseph Butler—or the wasted body that was left after his battle with the cancer that was about to take his life.
His frame was skeletal beneath the sheet. His sunken eyes were closed, his cheeks hollow, his skull bald save for a few patchy spots of hair that must have survived chemo, his skin an unnatural yellowish hue. His bony hands lay unmoving beside him.
