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“I want to know too. So don’t ask me what I’d do next. What do you want to do next?”

I started to pace. How could I prove what really happened at Deadwater Lake if I couldn’t trust the one person who was there to remember?

Dad got quiet. On my third pacing pass, he lobbed another question at me out of the blue.

“She didn’t want you to come back here, did she?” he asked.

I froze. He said nothing when I came home from the airport, nor when he showed up at the office. We’d had our coffee side by side in relative silence. He didn’t need to explain further what he meant.

“She misses me,” I said. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. She thinks I’m manipulating you.”

“Did she call you?” I asked. “You know what? Don’t tell me. Don’t put me in the middle. I make my own decisions.”

He laughed. “She thinks you’re just like me. But no, she didn’t call. She didn’t have to. Mercy, I’m sorry. You got a raw deal when you were born into this mess between us. If I’ve never told you, I’m sorry. It’s true we did the best we could. But it doesn’t matter, does it?”

I sat back down across from him. “Thanks. But we don’t have to relitigate the past.”

“Someday, it’s going to be all I have left, Mercy.”

I reached for his hand. I wanted to ask him not to talk like that. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t true.

“She’s right, you know. The worst part is I know it. I’m not being fair to you by asking you to stay here.”

“Stop,” I said.

“If you want to go back to Florida, I won’t ...”

“Stop! Dad, I’ll tell you what I told her. I’m here because I choose to be. And if I ever choose not to be, you’ll be the first to know.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Thank you. I’m not stupid. I know I need you. I know I’m starting to need you more and more.”

It was the perfect time to bring up the car. But something made me hesitate. He seemed so vulnerable. I didn’t have the heart to deal another blow. Not yet. But I wouldn’t let him deny it anymore either.

“You’re right,” I said. “You do. I said I wanted to stay. That’s true, but I need something from you too. If this is going to continue to work.”

“Anything,” he blurted. Then fear came into his eyes as he realized what he’d just agreed to.

“We need to make an appointment to see Dr. Ricci again. Now. Not six months from now. We need to see if your medication is working or needs to be changed. You promised me you’d listen to me on that a year ago. You have to honor that. Let me make the appointment. Okay? Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

He didn’t answer for the longest time. When he did, his eyes glistened. If he cried, I knew it would unravel me on the spot.

He didn’t cry. Instead, he just set his jaw into a hard line. “Okay,” he said. “Make the damn appointment.”

“Good,” I said, relief flooding me.

I let go of his hand and turned back to the whiteboard. “Now, you asked me what I’d do next. I think it’s time for me to visit the crime scene. I want to try to see things through Dan Holland’s eyes. Maybe through Derrek Sidney’s eyes as well.”

Dad slapped his hands against his thighs and got to his feet. “Good answer,” he said. “That’s what I’d do too. In fact, I already got a hold of Art Drummond. I’ve known him for years. All I have to do is make the call and he’ll meet us out at Deadwater Lake. How about first thing in the morning?”

Chapter

Ten

“You sure he’s up to this?” I said under my breath. Rafe Drummond looked at his grandfather and smiled.

“He can hear you,” Rafe said. He extended his hand to help his ninety-year-old grandfather, Art Drummond, climb into his small pontoon boat. Rafe told me he’d built the thing himself. I found it hard to believe Art could actually see. His eyes looked clouded over with cataracts. But he jumped in that boat with surprising agility.