by Karen Kelley
“Get a place in the country. I’ll probably retire from paramedicine. You know as well as I do that when you’re on a call, you can’t let your emotions get the better of you. You learn to shut your emotions off, but sometimes it’s hard to turn them back on.”
“You learn how to stop feeling,” I said without thinking. I think that’s the way I had survived after my father was sent to prison. I taught myself not to feel.
“It can get lonely, no matter how many people you have around you.”
Unfortunately, I knew exactly what he was talking about.
For the rest of the drive, we spoke about things that weren’t quite so personal. I was fine with that. Except by the time we arrived, I was starting to get nervous again. Layne explained to the guard at the gate what I wanted to do and after checking our ID’s, he waved us through. After my father died, my mother didn’t have his body brought home. They told her if no one claimed the body, he would be buried in the prison graveyard.
Layne pulled into the parking area the guard directed us to, and we went inside the air-conditioned building.
The man behind the desk looked up. “Can I help you?”
I explained why we were there, then waited as he went through the files.
“What did you say his name was?”
I gave it to him again, along with the date he passed away.
“Nolan Murphy,” he repeated his name.
He began to shake his head. “I’m sorry ma’am, but I don’t have any record of a Nolan Murphy.”
“But he has to be listed. My mother said she didn’t claim the body.”
“We have all the records of the inmates. Let me just double check them.” After a few minutes, he was still shaking his head. “No ma’am, we have never had anyone at this prison by that name. Are you sure it was this prison?”
“Yes, I’m positive. This is the one my mother said he was sent to.”
“I can do a statewide search to see if he’s ever been in the prison system. If he has, that will tell us what prison your father was in. As you said, it was a long time ago, and you were very young.”
“Yes, please,” I said.
He got on the phone with someone and told them the situation, then looked up at me. “They’re checking.” He continued talking on the phone for a few minutes and then thanked whoever was on the other end and hung up. “I’m sorry about your father, but I can tell you with certainty that as far as our records show, we’ve never had a Nolan Murphy in the prison system.”
I couldn’t speak. I wasn’t sure I could even walk. My heart felt as if it was splintering into thousands of tiny pieces. Over and over my mother’s words sounded in my head.
I told you that your father was worthless, but no, you thought the sun rose and set with him. He was a bastard. I’m fucking glad he’s dead, but I’m more glad that you know the truth about him! He was tried and convicted!
Except he hadn’t been a convict.
I vaguely heard Layne thank the man, then lead me back to his pickup. I automatically fastened my seatbelt and after Layne got inside, I turned to look at him.
“She lied to me. My father was never in prison. But what happened to him?”
“We’ll find him,” Layne said.
Cold chills ran up and down my body. “Is he even dead?” I whispered.
Chapter 13
Fiera
We left the prison. My brain felt as if it had turned to mush. I wasn’t sure how far we’d traveled, but I felt as if I was in a daze.
I glanced around when Layne pulled off at a roadside park and turned the ignition off. He got out and walked to my side of the pickup, opening the door. I hesitated, then got out.
The roadside park was up on a hill looking down on thick cedar and mesquite trees. The awnings over the concrete tables were in the shape of oil derricks. We were the only ones there. It was peaceful and quiet. The opposite of what I was feeling. I walked over to one of the tables, then sat on top of it before looking at Layne. He still hadn’t said anything. I was pretty sure he was waiting for me to speak.
“Why would my mother lie to me?” I asked, even knowing Layne wouldn’t have the answers any more than I did.
He came over, hands resting on either side of my legs. “Maybe she was jealous. You said the relationship between them wasn’t good, but you said your father doted on you.”
“Still, why would she tell me he was in prison and that he’d died there? She could’ve just said he’d been killed.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Did she tell anyone else that he went to prison?”
“Of course she did.”
“Are you sure? Or did she just tell you?”
I closed my eyes, trying to think back. I’d only been ten years old. It was difficult to recall everything she’d said. The one thing I did remember was that she hadn’t been sad.
“After she told me he died in prison, we moved to a different city. I heard her tell people she was a widow, but never how my father had died. When I was a little older, I just figured she was ashamed.” Pain ripped through me, tearing at my insides. “I was ashamed, too. We didn’t talk about him.”
“If he’d been killed any other way, you would have put him on a pedestal. From what you’ve told me about your mother, I don’t think she would’ve wanted you to do that. Is it possible that she wanted you to hate him as much as she’d hated him?”
“That all sounds plausible, but it still doesn’t solve the question of where he is.” I could think of only one reason he wouldn’t want to be in contact with me. “Maybe he found another family and decided he didn’t want the one he already had. To my mother, that would’ve made him dead.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it. You said he loved you very much. He would’ve at least stayed in contact with you.”
I pushed off the table, Layne stepped back as I came to my feet. I hugged my middle as I walked to the edge of the awning. “I thought he loved me. Maybe I was wrong.”
I stiffened when Layne walked up behind me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me against him. Some of the coldness inside me thawed. I knew it was only temporary. Layne was only acting like a friend. Eventually, he too would leave. Then I’d be alone again. But that was okay. I knew where I stood when I was alone.
I drew in a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. I’m ready to leave.” I stepped out of his arms and faced him. He was shaking his head.
“There’s got to be a reason. If your father is still alive, then we’ll find him.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to be found?” I raised my chin, refusing to let my emotions overwhelm me.
“Then we’ll deal with that together. You’re not alone in this.”
He pulled me back into his arms, slid his fingers into my hair, and lowered his lips to mine. His kiss was gentle and didn’t demand anything from me. For a moment, I lost myself in his touch. He ended the kiss, then leaned his forehead against mine.
“Together, right?” he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak the words because deep down I knew he would leave me, too. My mind was already using safety measures to put distance between us. Just like when I was on an ambulance call. The barriers would come up so that I didn’t think or feel about the person I was treating. For just a little while, I think Layne had started to break past the walls I’d erected, but just for a little while.
Once we were on the road again, he began to talk. “I know a great private investigator we can hire.”
I set a little straighter in the seat. “I can’t afford a private investigator.” I studied him for a moment. “And I’m not going to let you pay for one.”
“Do you want to find your father?”
I thought about his words for a moment. I closed my eyes and pictured my father. He’d always been happy. Had it all been a lie? I knew if I didn’t find out the truth, it would haunt me the rest of my life. “Yes, I want to find him.” I squared my shoulders. “But I swear, I�
��m going to pay you back every penny.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay, then. It’s settled.”
He didn’t wait for me to change my mind and called his friend as we drove home. Jeremy was in-between cases and was glad to help Layne find my father. He was going to meet us at my apartment as soon as we got back.
I was screaming on the inside, even though I knew I looked calm on the outside. What if I didn’t want to know the truth? What if my father had decided he didn’t want to be in our lives? What if one day he told my mother that he was leaving? They’d always fought. She would have been angry enough to tell me he died in prison. She’d want to destroy any love I felt for him because of his betrayal of her. I rubbed a hand across my forehead, trying to relieve the tension that was building.
“Stop guessing about what happened to him. Or why he didn’t contact you in all these years. Wait until Jeremy finds out exactly what actually happened.”
I met his gaze across the seat. I finally nodded. “I’ll try.” That was easier said than done, though.
We stopped once and grabbed some fast food. I didn’t think I would be able to eat, but I found I was hungry. Usually, when I was nervous, I couldn’t eat. Maybe I was just tired of worrying and wondering.
The drive back seemed to take forever, and at the same time, it didn’t seem to take long at all. I knew Jeremy would be asking a lot of questions that I didn’t want to answer, but it would be the only way he could find my father. Maybe Layne was afraid that I’d go back inside my shell, I wasn’t sure, but he called Jeremy when we were about ten minutes out so that he would be there shortly after we arrived.
Once we were there, I began to pace the floor. I could feel the tension starting to build inside me again. Some part of me hoped he didn’t show, but I had a feeling he would. Layne was his friend. That’s what real friends did. They helped each other. Now Layne was my friend. That scared the hell out of me. What if he started to see the real me and decided that he didn’t like what he saw?
When the doorbell rang, I jumped. Layne answered it. Jeremy was older than I thought he would be. Early fifties maybe. He had a touch of gray at the temples. He was tall, and he had a slight paunch.
“Hey Layne, it’s been too long. How’ve you been doing?”
They shook hands.
“Just trying to stay out of trouble.”
“You? Stay out of trouble? I wouldn’t think that would be possible.”
Layne smiled and turned toward me. “This is Fiera. Come on in and have a seat. I’ll let her explain everything to you.”
As he sat in the chair, Layne walked over and took my hand, leading me toward the sofa, as if he thought I would run away. I wanted to bolt, I might have, except I wanted to know what had happened to my father more.
I looked between the two men. “Where do I start?”
“Start the night your father disappeared from your life. Were your parents fighting?” Jeremy asked.
“Close your eyes and try to think back,” Layne told me.
My mouth was so dry that I could barely swallow, but I knew I had to relive the past once more. “I was so excited to see him that morning. He wasn’t expected back until the next day, but he’d wanted to surprise us. ”
“What was your mother doing?” Jeremy asked.
It happened so many years ago that it was hard to remember, but I knew Jeremy needed more information to go on if he was going to find my father, or at least discover what happened to him. “I think she was mad at him. She wore her mean look. Her lips were compressed into a fine line, and her eyes were narrowed. My father asked her if he’d upset her plans for that night, and she said something about him upsetting her life. Mom said she’d never wanted this. That she felt old.”
It was funny how the mind worked. Some things would get all tangled up, but then come untangled when you least expected. My father had seemed overly cheerful. I think it was to cover up the fact that my mother wasn’t with us when we went out to eat that night. I think he covered up a lot.
“My mother wasn’t home when we got back. He seemed agitated. Dad and I watched a movie, then I got ready for bed. He tucked me in…” My words faltered. I drew in a deep breath and continued. “He said he would always love me and then he sang an Irish lullaby. He did that when he was home. Sleep little angel, and I won’t let the fairies carry you away…” my words trailed off. I opened my eyes and looked at them. “It was just a silly little song.”
“Did you ever hear them fight?” Jeremy asked.
“There were voices later that night. My mother screamed at him. I remember pulling the pillow over my head. The car started. I ran to the window as he was pulling away. Something inside me wanted to call him back, but I knew it was too late. He wouldn’t hear me. Still, I ran to the front door, but my mother stopped me before I could run outside. She told me he wasn’t worth running after. Then when I started crying, she scolded me and told me not to worry, he’d be back. He always came back, but she said it in a way that made me think she didn’t want him to.” I looked between the two men. Something seemed to pass between them. I couldn’t read their expressions, but there was a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. “Do you think my mother had something to do with my father not coming home?”
“I don’t like to jump to conclusions,” Jeremy said. “I don’t suppose you have a picture of your father, do you?”
“I do.” I stood and went to the bedroom closet, reaching to the far back corner and getting the album. I hugged it close for a moment, as if I was hugging my father. All these years, I thought he’d left of his own accord, but it might’ve been something far more sinister. For just a brief moment, when I discovered he hadn’t died in prison, I’d thought I might get one more chance to see him. It didn’t matter why he’d left. Right now, I felt as if all my hopes had been dashed.
I caught back the sob that threatened to escape. No, I wouldn’t break down. I was always strong. Able to hold my emotions in check. I would do it now, as well. I took a deep breath and left the bedroom. Once I was sitting on the sofa again, I opened the album and turned to the last page. There we were. The three of us. I carefully removed the picture and handed it to Jeremy.
He looked at it, then up at me. “Is your mother still living?”
I shook my head. “We began to move around a lot. We lived in quite a few towns. She began going out a lot—dates, parties. I remember her telling me I was old enough to stay by myself. She died when I was twelve.”
He glanced at the picture again. “She was a beautiful woman. She doesn’t look that old. How did she die?”
It was as if I were two people. The one inside me crying, and the calm one on the outside. “I came home from school. She was in bed. The needle was still in her arm.”
Layne squeezed my hand.
“You never heard anything from your father?” Jeremy asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. I didn’t have any relatives who wanted me, or that the state could find, so I was sent to foster homes.”
Jeremy got some more information from me: my mother’s full name, date of birth, where she was born.
“I think I have enough to get started.” Jeremy came to his feet. “I’ll make a copy of this picture, then get it back to you. As soon as I find out something, I’ll be in touch.”
Layne and I stood. “Thank you for your help,” I told him.
“I’ll do my best,” Jeremy said.
Layne walked him to the door and they spoke for a moment before Jeremy left, then Layne returned to me.
“Jeremy is damn good at his job. If anyone can find out what happened to your father, it will be him.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m afraid of. Sometimes it’s better not to dig up the past.”
“But that’s not what you want, is it? You need to know what happened to your father. Good or bad.”
He pulled me to the sofa and we sat beside each other, one arm p
ulling me against him. With a sigh, I rested my head against his chest.
“Tell me about your parents?” I asked. “What were they like when you were growing up?” I didn’t want to think about my past, but I knew the void had to be filled right now. As if Layne sensed that need in me, he began to tell me about them.
My eyes drifted closed as exhaustion washed over me. My head rested against his chest, and I could hear the steady rhythm of his heart. It was soothing, and I could feel myself begin to relax.
I wouldn’t think about my past. Not right now. I’d let it slip away again.
I wasn’t sure what time it was when I opened my eyes next. There was a pillow under my head, and when I pushed up on one elbow, I saw that I was in bed with a light blanket covering me. I vaguely remembered Layne carrying me to my bed and telling me not to worry about anything.
I didn’t want to trust him, but I found I was doing exactly that. Crazy I know. It wasn’t in me to trust someone. Especially someone I hadn’t known very long.
I came to my feet and walked to the bathroom. I assumed Layne had gone back to his apartment. I was feeling grungy. I quickly stripped and stepped into the shower, beneath the cooling spray. By the time I finished, I felt somewhat human. I glanced at the time. It wasn’t that late, only nine o’clock at night. Still, I pulled on a gown. I didn’t plan on going back out.
As soon as I opened my bedroom door, I knew I wasn’t alone. Someone was moving around my kitchen. I pulled my robe together and tied it.
Layne had his back to me and was working at the counter. I watched him for a few moments. For some reason, it felt right having him move about my kitchen. A sudden memory crossed my mind. My father had loved to cook. I think with him it was more out of necessity. My mother’s specialty was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. But my father had been a decent cook.
Layne suddenly turned, then smiled. God, the man had one crazy ass smile. It made my insides turn to mush. I quickly cleared my throat. “What are you doing?” I walked closer.
