A Good Man Gone (Mercy Watts Mysteries) (40 page)

“Hey, Claire,” I said. “I’m trying to get ahold of my parents, but they’re not answering.”
 

“Hi, Mercy. Let me see. That’s right. Your dad’s chasing a child molester in Jeff City and your mom’s testifying in front of the grand jury in Cleveland. Do you want to leave a message in case they get in touch?”

“Will Dad be back tonight?”
 

“I doubt it. If he gets the guy, he’ll follow the arrest through.”

“What about Mom? We’re supposed to leave in two days.”
 

“She’s flying back tomorrow, assuming the indictment goes through. Why? Is something wrong?”
 

Is something wrong? Not exactly.

“No. Everything’s fine. But you’ve been going through Dad’s files reorganizing, right?” I asked.

“Yes. They were a mess.”
 

“Did you perhaps find anything about our house? Maybe some notes?”
 

Claire got cagey. “What are you looking for?”
 

“Nothing in particular, just what was going on around the time The Girls gave it to us.”
 

“You’ll have to be more specific.”
 

Groan.
 

“What was Dad working on back then?” I asked.

“He was a police detective.”

“I know. He kept every single notebook he used during his career. I just want to know what he was working on.”
 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you,” said Claire.

“Why the heck not?”
 

“I signed a confidentiality agreement.”
 

“I’m his kid. I think you can tell me what cases he was working on before I was born.”
 

“I can’t. The agreement was very specific. You’re mentioned by name.”
 

“Dad had you sign an agreement not to tell me stuff? Seriously?”

“I can’t tell anyone else either, if that makes you feel better,” said Claire.
 

“It doesn’t.”

“Before you go, I have a message from your mom.”

Groan.

“You have to go shopping for appropriate cruise wear today. She’s tired of your procrastination. Sheila at Forever Summer is expecting you.”

“What in the world is appropriate cruise wear?”

“I have a list for you.”
 

Great. More dresses that fall apart.

“Never mind. I’ll figure it out.” I hung up and started up my ancient truck. The engine roared in a most satisfying way and the familiar vibrations rumbled through my generous rump, but I didn’t know exactly where to go from there. My parents were hiding something and Claire knew what it was. That just sucked.

A.W. Hartoin is the author of the Mercy Watts mystery series and the Away From Whipplethorn fantasy series. She lives in Colorado with her husband, two children, and six bad chickens.