Chasing the Skip (18 page)

“I let him go,” I said quietly.

“You what?”

“I let him go.”

Dad took in a sharp breath, and I wanted to stop talking right there, but I kept going.

“I let him out of the cuffs with the keys from your pocket. That’s how he got away. But I didn’t think you’d wake up, and I didn’t think about the gun. I didn’t know what was going to happen.”

I couldn’t see Dad’s face in the dark. “That was a damn dangerous thing to do,” he said quietly. “Skips aren’t safe people. I don’t get why you don’t understand that.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I had to gasp for air. “I do now,” I said, thinking about the look on Ian’s face as he pointed the gun at me. He’d have shot me to get away. If it came down to his freedom or my life, there was no question.

“Hell of a price to pay to figure that out,” Dad said. “I could have lost you.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

Dad reached across the table and put his hand on my arm. “Come on, now,” Dad said. “We can talk about it later, once we’re all safe.”

We sat there for a minute, me sniffling, him resting his hand on my snotty sleeve. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s just get it done.”

*   *   *

By the time we were ready to go, Dad had Ian double chained to the floor so tight, he couldn’t even sit up straight. Ian tried to catch my eye, but I didn’t look at him.

I huddled in the front, not letting my back touch the seat. I couldn’t be that close to Ian, even though I knew Dad had chained him good.

As we took the long drive back to Denver, the drizzle of the last few days turned to snow. Even the early-morning traffic grew thick as we merged onto I-76.

Dad kept his eyes on the road and his hands on the wheel. I wished I could sleep, but I still felt too shaky, like Ian might attack me from behind.

I reached over to switch on the radio just to distract myself. Dad caught my hand and shook his head at me. “Not now,” he said. I couldn’t blame him for being careful.

*   *   *

When we pulled up to the jail, Dad made me get out of the truck first, probably so I’d be farther away if he had any trouble with Ian after he unchained him. I stood by the trailer as Dad pulled Ian out the door, and an officer came out to meet us, swapping Dad’s chains for his.

I expected Ian to say something as they took him in, but he didn’t even look in my direction. He walked toward the jail with his shoulders back and his chin up. And then the doors swung closed, and he was gone.

Snowflakes dusted my hair, and I tried to pass the shaking off as a shiver. Being around Ian had been a rush, but now the rush had turned frightening.

“Let’s go,” Dad said, pulling open my door. I climbed into the truck, and he got in on the other side, pulling out of the parking lot and leaving Ian behind.

When Dad pulled back onto the freeway, I stared out the window. “Aren’t we going to sleep?” I asked.

Dad shook his head. “I’ve got to go take care of the rental car first.” He pulled a pack of sunflower seeds out of the glove box and offered me some. I shook my head, and he set them in his lap, tossing a few into his mouth. “Plus, the mechanic up there will have the parts to replace the rotors. The pads were a temporary fix.”

I’d forgotten about the damage. “Okay,” I said. That meant several more hours in the car. “Don’t you need to get paid, too?”

“I’ll take care of Cal tomorrow.”

I folded myself against the passenger door, shivering. I finally had a story that was worth writing about. Too bad I’d never be able to bring myself to write it.

As I wrapped my arms around me, I felt as if there was still someone else in the car with us. This time, though, it wasn’t Ian or Stan or Alison. It was fear, hanging in the air like a ghostly presence.

“What are you going to do with me?” I asked, watching the windshield wipers flip back and forth. The predawn light cast a golden sheen across the raindrops as they slipped off the glass and onto the hood.

“What do you mean?” Dad asked.

“Aren’t you going to punish me?” I leaned back hard against the seat, as if pressing myself in would keep Dad from dropping me off with some foster family.

Dad sighed. “Let’s start with breakfast.”

He pulled into a gas station and came out with a box of doughnuts and two cups of coffee. He set the drink tray on the seat between us, and neither of us touched it until he’d pulled off at a rest stop off I-25. The sun was just rising, but all I could see of it was a golden glow through the cover of clouds and the swirl of snow.

Dad brushed the snow off the top of one of the tables, and we both sat down. The slab of cold concrete leached all the heat from my legs, and I sipped my coffee to get warm.

“I think you should know,” Dad said, “that I’ve decided I’m not taking bounty work anymore.”

“What? You can’t quit your job. What will you do?”

“Cal offered me a job a while back, working as a bondsman. He’s been saying for years that I’m too soft to chase skips. I never go for the big money. I bring them in, sure, but I always pick the soft ones. Always until now.”

“Ian wasn’t soft.”

“I know. And Cal was right. I shouldn’t have taken the job with you along. Ian had a record of violence. That’s how they caught him—he beat up one of the guys who fenced his cars. That guy ratted him out, but they couldn’t make the assault charges stick.”

My cheeks burned. Reality sure was kicking me in the ass.

“Why did you take the job, then?” I asked.

“Money,” Dad said. “The bounty on him is enough to get us an apartment while I get set up with Cal. I’ve scouted some in Denver already, set some appointments up. Of course, now some of the money will have to go to fixing this mess, but I still think we can manage.”

It took a second for that to sink in. I’d been so pissed that Dad dragged me along on his bounty hunts that it hadn’t even occurred to me that maybe he’d try to get out of it. And all along, he was trying to get his life to be more stable. For me.

“I don’t deserve that. Not after what I did.”

“Maybe not,” Dad said. “I don’t deserve another chance after being such a failure of a father. Maybe we should both be glad that life doesn’t always give you what you deserve.”

“But you like your job. It’s not fair for you to have to quit because of me.”

“You’re almost sixteen. In two years, you’ll be off to college, and I can go back on the road if I want.”

I left the college fight for another time. “What about Mom? She’s still out there—and she might need help. I can’t give up on her.”

“There’s something else I have to tell you. Something I should have told you a while back.”

I looked at him. Somehow I knew this wasn’t good news. “What?” I asked.

“I got a message from your mom right before I came to pick you up at Grandma’s. She told me she’d taken off for California and that stuff was going so well out there, she wasn’t coming back for a while. She wanted me to go pick you up—said it was my turn to be your parent.”

His turn. Like I was a part-time job and she was asking to switch shifts.

So that’s why he refused to look for her. It wasn’t about her constitutional rights at all. He already knew she didn’t want me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ve been trying to get hold of her since,” Dad said. “I figured if I could reach her, I could change her mind. She called me on a pay phone the first time, so I had a hard time tracking her down. I didn’t want to tell you that she wasn’t coming back. Not unless I had to.”

“You lied. You told me you weren’t looking for her.”

“I know. I didn’t want you to get your hopes up. So I made the phone calls when you were at the library. You didn’t make it easy, though, always going on about how she might have gotten kidnapped.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to process this.

Little snowflakes melted on my cheeks. I probably should have cried then, but I was still running on the shock of last night. Six hours of sleep in two full days meant the dial on my emotions was stuck on low. “So did you find her?”

Dad reached into his breast pocket and pulled out one of his business cards and handed it to me. “I made some calls,” he said. “Had a PI friend who owed me a favor. He called me last night with this number.”

I looked down at the card, and scrawled in Dad’s handwriting was a ten-digit phone number. “She’s staying with her friend Denis. We tracked them down through that dating website she was on.”

“I know about him,” I said. “I found a bunch of messages she sent him before she disappeared. He lives in San Diego.”

Dad took a long swig of his coffee. “Good work.”

“Did you call her yet?”

“No. I’ve been trying to decide what to say. But maybe I haven’t called because it’s your call to make.”

“You should have told me,” I said. “I deserved to know about the message.”

“You’re probably right,” Dad said. “But I really thought she’d change her mind and you’d never have to know.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

Dad sighed. “Because I don’t know what else to do. I’m trying, Ricki, but I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

That confession startled me even more than the news that he’d heard from Mom. I knew Dad didn’t know what he was doing, but for the first time I realized that he was aware of it.

“I’m kind of bad at being your daughter, too,” I said. “So I guess we’re even.”

“That’s a hell of a thing to be even at. Maybe we can work on it.”

I turned the business card over in my hand. I wanted to believe Mom would hear my voice and realize she’d made a terrible mistake. But Dad was already planning to get an apartment in Denver, to fix things up so I could stay with him.

I needed to call Mom now. This couldn’t wait. “Can I use your phone?”

Dad handed me the cell phone. “You can use it right now if you want.”

I pinched the card between my fingers, as if by holding on to the card I could make Mom answer the phone, make us be okay.

I stood up from the table. I didn’t want him listening in. Dad looked up at me as I walked away, leaving footprints in the snow. “Ricki,” he said, “I know I haven’t been a model father, but I won’t walk out on you. You have my word on that.”

I wasn’t sure I could bring myself to believe that. I didn’t deserve that kind of a promise, not after what I’d done. But maybe Dad was right. Life didn’t always give us the things we deserved. Sometimes that sucked, but sometimes it was a lucky thing.

“Thanks,” I said. I walked around the far side of the restrooms and huddled under the eaves. I punched the numbers from the card into the phone, listening to the ring on the other end.

Rest stop outside Denver, Colorado.

Seconds into phone call: 3.

Distance from Dad: 10 yards.

18

“Hello?” Mom said. Hearing her voice took me so much by surprise that I thought I’d pee my pants.

“Mommy? Mom?”

“Ricki baby?” Mom said. “Where’d you get this number?”

Not
Are you okay?
Not
How have you been?
Not
I am so sorry. Where’d you get this number?
The relief I’d felt at hearing Mom’s voice hardened.

“Dad found it,” I said. “What happened? Where have you been?”

“Oh, honey, things have been so crazy. I’m sorry. I should have called, but I knew you’d be safe with Grandma and that your dad would take care of you.”

“It’s been a month, Mom. Do you realize it’s been a month?”

“I know, sweetie. I was going to call tomorrow. I promise I was. Just as soon as things calmed down.”

“Right,” I said. “Well, Dad said you told him you weren’t coming back. That it was his turn to take care of me.”

“Have you been staying at his place?” she asked. “Is he feeding you okay?”

She’d dodged the question. “He’s driving me around in his travel trailer chasing after fugitives. It’s pretty awful, actually.”

“Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I’d have come home if I knew.”

“If you were going to come home, why did you tell Dad you didn’t want me anymore?” My voice was edging on hysterical, but I couldn’t help it.

Mom’s voice sharpened a bit. “Don’t be like that.”

“What do you mean, don’t be like that?
You
walked out on
me
.”

“That’s not fair, honey.”

I didn’t want to fight now. We could fight later, once we had things all sorted out. The important thing now was to get us back together.

“Dad can drive me to where you are,” I said. “So you won’t have to come get me.”

Mom was quiet for a moment. “Aw, honey … honey, I’d love to, but I can’t right now.”

“What do you mean, you can’t? I said Dad would bring me. You don’t even have to do anything.”

“You remember Denis? The man I met online? Well, I’m staying at his place, and it’s small, only one bedroom. We’d be living on top of each other, sweetie, and Denis and I are still figuring out our relationship. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to you, living in a place like this.”

“Then come home, Mom.”

“I’m sorry, honey. But things with Denis are going so well. And you know what a hard time I’ve had finding a decent guy. I can’t walk out on him when things are finally starting to work out for me. You understand?”

I understood. I’d heard her. Her needs came first, my needs came second, and I hated myself for being surprised.

“That’s fine, Mom,” I said. “Look, I’ve got to go.”

“I’ll call you soon, okay? See if Dad will take you back to Grandma’s. It’s not fair for you to have to live in a trailer like that.”

“Dad’s getting an apartment in Denver,” I said. “I’m going to stay there with him.” At the moment that felt worlds better than living in an apartment with her and
Denis
, the man she’d known a month whose needs took precedence over mine.

“That’s good, honey. It’s only for a little while. And then we’ll get set up with a bigger place, and I’ll send for you.”

That was the sort of thing you told a three-year-old who wanted a cookie you knew she’d forget about. In a little while. Bullshit.