Dead Is So Last Year (9 page)

"Pining for him? True, but I don't think we should say anything to her when she calls."

"What if he answers the phone?"

"We'll have to make sure that doesn't happen," Rose said. "Just until we can investigate him."

Poppy looked appalled. "Investigate our own father?"

"Investigate the man who
might be
our father," I said. "He could be a DoppelDad, remember? He said he doesn't recall how he was abducted, but I read his mind and found out that he
does
have memories of it. Why would he keep that knowledge from us?"

"Maybe to protect us," Poppy said.

"We can't just walk up to him and start asking questions," Rose said. "If he's a phony, he's not just going to confess to it."

"True," I replied. "But it's natural that we'd be curious about where he's been."

"We need to look for a sign that he's a fake," Rose said.

"Like what?" Poppy asked.

"Sugar," I said. "Remember, at the council meeting they said that doppelgangers love sugar."

"Dad has a sweet tooth," Rose pointed out. "That's going to make it tougher to figure out if this guy's real or not."

"I don't remember that," I said stubbornly.

"Well, he used to, anyway," she replied, with a shrug. "People do change, but don't you remember how Mom would always buy him chocolate from that little place on the boardwalk? He loved chocolate, just like you."

I hadn't remembered, not until now. What else had I forgotten in the years since I'd seen my father?

"We should concentrate on finding out more about him," I said. "Grandma's keeping him occupied for now, but I'll try to keep an eye on him and see if he lets anything slip."

"You're the youngest. Why do you get Dad?" Poppy asked.

"Because I'm the one he approached. That means he thinks I'm the weakest link."

"Or maybe it really is Dad and he just missed you."

"We can't think that way, not yet."
Not even as much as l want to think that way.
"Not until we have proof that he could be our father."

Just then there was a knock on the door. I looked at my watch. "Oh no," I said. "It's probably Ryan. We have a date tonight."

"Obviously, you can't go now," Poppy said, nodding in the direction of Dad.

"Tell him you're sick," Rose said.

"I don't like lying to my boyfriend," I protested.

"It's a white lie," Rose said softly. "If Ryan finds out Dad is here, he'll tell his dad, who will tell the whole council, who will come over here and take him away to see if he's a doppelganger. I think we should try to see if we can figure this out on our own first, don't you?"

I nodded, recalling how upset Deputy Doppelganger had looked in the holding cell this morning. I didn't want my dad—if he was—to be there unless it was absolutely necessary. Finally I answered the door, only opening it a crack.

"Hey," Ryan said hesitantly when he saw me still wearing my food-splattered apron from work. "Are you okay? Did you forget we have plans tonight?"

"No, I was going to call you. I'm not feeling too well. I think I'm just going to relax at home tonight."

"Oh," Ryan said. "Well, do you need some company? Can I come in?"

"You'd better not," I said. "I wouldn't want you to catch anything. So ... I'll call you when I feel better, okay?"

Ryan stuck his foot in the door to prevent me from closing it. "Is there something wrong, Daisy?"

My face flushed bright red. I was a terrible liar. "No, I told you, I'm just sick."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with your dad, would it? My dad told me that he—or his doppelganger—was spotted in town today. He's not
here,
is he?"

I glanced back at the couch, where Poppy and Rose were shaking their heads and mouthing
no, no, no.

"No, of course not," I said to Ryan.

I was glad that Dad was still out in the backyard with Grandma, where Ryan couldn't hear or see him.

"Well ... okay," Ryan said reluctantly. "You will call me or my dad if you see the guy, right?"

I nodded, and faked a few coughs for good measure.

"Get some rest," he said, then leaned over to kiss my forehead.

When I shut the door, Poppy cried, "That was close!"

I hated lying to Ryan. "Now I really do feel sick."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The next morning
over a breakfast of strawberry waffles, which I cooked, Dad made the suggestion that Grandma Giordano stay with us during the "adjustment phase."

"I've been gone a long time," he said. "I'm practically a stranger to you all. And I'll need a hand in the kitchen."

Grandma Giordano snorted. "Rafe, you know as well as I do that you're a better cook than I am. And Daisy takes after you. She does most of the cooking, anyway."

"Yes, well, I'm a little rusty in the kitchen," he said. "I was held against my will for so long."

"Held where?" Poppy chimed in.

"I don't know," he replied. He shuddered and a strange look came into his eyes. "It was cold and dark, but there were trees and shrubs all around me."

Rose and I exchanged glances. Dad had disappeared while he was doing research in some forest. The description fit. Maybe we did have our father back.

After just a few days, we'd already started to get into a rhythm. Dad would get up early and run to the Donut Hole for a box of donuts. We'd read the paper together, take long walks, and watch television. He laughed insanely at episodes of
The Simpsons,
but he'd always liked that show. He even did a mean Homer impression.

But we hadn't yet cooked a meal together. He'd barely stepped foot in the kitchen. I missed the old days when he'd teach me how to prepare special dishes for the family.

So that morning, I said, "Dad, why don't we make breakfast for the whole family tomorrow? Just you and me, like the old days?" It sounded like I was pleading with him.

"I have a better idea," he said. "Why don't I take you all to breakfast?"

I was disappointed that we wouldn't be spending time in the kitchen, but I nodded in agreement.

When Poppy got up, we all headed to Slim's and found a table in the back. I said hello to a couple of regulars.

Penny Edwards was there, but she ignored me. Her attention was focused on my father. I could practically see the gossip spreading. How would I explain this to Ryan? He still thought I was homesick.

Flo was working, as usual, but to my surprise, Natalie was there helping out. "I was bored waiting for Slim," Natalie announced. "I hope you don't mind that I'm your server."

"Not at all," my father said. "How could I resist such a gorgeous girl?"

Poppy made an
eww
face behind his back. I had to agree with her. Natalie wasn't much older than Rose, and for a minute, it had sounded like Dad was flirting with her. There's nothing more unattractive than some middle-aged guy hitting on a coed.

Or at least that's what
I
thought. But throughout breakfast, my father's attentions to Natalie grew more intense. I squirmed in my seat, but Grandma Giordano seemed oblivious.

"Rafe, what are your plans for the rest of the summer? Are you going to Italy to fetch your wife home?"

I glanced over to gauge Dad's response, but his eyes were firmly planted on Natalie.

Natalie returned with our breakfast. My father leaned in to her as she set down his enormous cinnamon roll, stack of pancakes, and apple juice. "You smell wonderful," he murmured.

Ick!
I nudged Rose under the table. She cleared her throat. "Uh, Dad, what are your plans?"

"I wouldn't want to interfere with your mother's work," he finally replied. "Not when there are so many lovely distractions here in Nightshade."

Penny's eyes nearly bulged from her skull and she whipped out her cell phone and started texting quickly.

Things seemed to settle down, at least until it was time to pay the bill. "Mama, I'm afraid I've forgotten my wallet. Could you...?"

"Of course," Grandma said, without blinking an eye. She paid the tab and left a healthy tip.

Instead of joining us at the door, Dad stood by the table. When Natalie came by, he reached out and grabbed her around the waist. He said something too low for us to hear, but from the deep blush that appeared on Natalie's face, I was glad I was out of earshot.

She tried to extricate herself, but my father only wrapped her tighter. A minute later, in front of confused onlookers, a
kiss the cook
apron appeared out of nowhere and knocked my father down.

Some of the customers may have been baffled, but I knew it was a very angry Slim. As I helped my father to his feet, I had to repress the urge to knock him down again myself.

Were the rumors true? Was my father a womanizer who had abandoned his wife and children? Was his story of an abduction merely an excuse?

I couldn't deny the fact that he had been going out at night after Poppy, Rose, Grandma, and I had gone to bed. More than once, I was awakened at about two
A.M.
by the sound of his fumbling footsteps as he made his way upstairs.

Then I had a thought. Our dad may have hidden his true self from his family, but surely his friends knew what he was up to. His closest friend at the time he'd disappeared was also his research partner—Sam's dad. Maybe it was time to reunite old friends and see if any skeletons tumbled out of the closet. And I didn't mean Skull.

I called Sam that night, to make arrangements for the two of them to meet up.

"Daisy, that's fantastic! You finally have your dad back," she said.

"I'm not sure," I said, and then spent the next half hour hashing over all my fears with her.

"Maybe you're just scared," she said. "After all, even if it wasn't his fault, he did abandon you. I mean, it
felt
like he abandoned you all those years, right?"

"You could be right," I said. "I'll give him a chance."

Before we hung up, I added, "And Sam ... please don't mention this to Sean. I don't want him telling Ryan."

"What? Why?"

"I just ... need some time to figure things out," I said. "Okay." Sam sighed. "My lips are sealed. You two and your secrets."

My mind was too full of thoughts of my dad to interpret that comment. We made plans to meet for coffee at the university that afternoon.

I wandered into the living room. "Dad, would you like to hang out with my friend Samantha and her dad?"

"Do I know her?"

"Yes, Samantha Devereaux and her father." I watched him carefully, but he didn't even flinch when he heard the name. Curious, since Sam's dad had been working on research with my father and had published their findings to great acclaim since his disappearance.

When it was time to go meet Samantha and Mr. Devereaux, I drove, since my dad said his nerves were still shaky from captivity. As we headed to the campus, Dad stared out the carwindow, turning to get a better look at a woman walking her dog down Main Street.

"Dad!" I groaned.

I was glad there wasn't much eye candy on campus. We were meeting Sam and her father at the food court, and I went to order the coffee while we waited for them. It wasn't long before I saw them coming.

Mr. Devereaux was a distinguished-looking man who many people said looked like George Clooney. All I saw was prematurely gray hair and a nice smile, but whatever.

The small place that he and Sam lived in near the university was a far cry from their former palatial home, but they seemed happier. Sam's mom lived in San Francisco and did occasional fly-by parenting. I don't think Sam had visited her once this summer.

Mr. Devereaux took one look at DoppelDad and nearly fainted. "Rafe?"

"Spenser, how are you?" My heart skipped a beat when Dad called Sam's dad by his first name, but then I realized that if he was a phony, it would have been easy enough to find out Sam's dad's first name by looking it up in the campus directory.

Dad and Mr. Devereaux chatted amiably, but after about an hour, my father stopped trying to hide his boredom. I wanted to smack him for being so rude.

In desperation, Mr. Devereaux turned the conversation to work.

" There have been great strides in cloning in the last few years," he said. "A researcher in San Diego claims to have even cloned humans."

My father looked at his watch. "I'd love to stay and talk shop," he said. "But I have an appointment."

"Let's get together soon," Mr. Devereaux replied.

"I'm not sure that's possible," my dad said. "The ladies, you know." He winked and my stomach curdled. "Now, Daisy, don't look like that. You know your old dad is only joking."

While my dad stood impatiently by the exit, I had a brief word with Sam's dad.

"There is absolutely no way that man is your father," he said. "Not unless he's had a psychotic episode. Your father would never even look at another woman. This man is trying to ruin your father's reputation."

"Why would he do that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea, Daisy, but please be careful," he replied. "And call us if you need anything."

I tried to pretend that the news didn't hurt, and looked at my watch. "Okay, well thanks for meeting us, anyway," I said."Maybe I have time to stop by and see Rose at Dr. Franken's lab. She knew Dad, too, so it might be worth getting her opinion."

Mr. Devereaux looked alarmed. "Dr. Franken?"

"Didn't Samantha tell you? My sister Rose is working for her this summer. She was a friend of my father's."

"No," Mr. Devereaux said, "my daughter did not mention that fact to me." He gave Samantha a stern look. Samantha looked confused.

I didn't blame her.

"What's wrong with Dr. Franken?" I asked.

Mr. Devereaux considered how to begin. "I'm not sure what's
wrong
with her," he said delicately, "but she wasn't friends with your father. They were colleagues, but the best description would have been friendly rivals. They certainly weren't close. Your father didn't trust her."

I was surprised by this information. Now I wondered why she would have even hired Rose. My sister was brilliant, but there are juniors and seniors who would kill to work with the doctor. My head was swimming, but all I said was, "Oh. Maybe I shouldn't stop by the lab after all."

Sam swept me into a hug. "He's watching," she said. "So don't react."

I said goodbye and walked back, steeling myself to smile at my fake father.

"That Samantha is quite an attractive young woman, all grown up now."

I looked at him with loathing, realizing I was actually glad he wasn't my real father.

"I remember when the two of you used to play with your dolls. What was her name? Ah, yes, Dolores."

I never played with dolls. I did have a stuffed animal I'd named Dolores.

This man was definitely not my father, but he seemed to have some of my father's memories. Now I was more confused than ever. He didn't seem like the man I used to know, but neither did he seem like a complete stranger. I didn't know what to think. So I pressed him with more questions.

"Have you talked to Mom yet?"

He hesitated, then said, "Not yet."

"Why not?" I know the idea was to keep them apart, but suddenly I was angry all over again on her behalf. "She is your wife, after all."

"It's been a long time, Daisy," he said. "I wasn't sure if she..." He looked at his feet.

I tried not to, but I felt a little sorry for him.

Still, I was convinced that he couldn't be my dad. What kind of person wasn't looking forward to his own wife's return? A phony, part of me said, but the other part knew that if the rumors were true, maybe my dad would be happy to have his freedom.

It couldn't be put off any longer. I needed to call Mom.