Melt (Steel Brothers Saga #4)(36)

“You look great yourself. Not a gray hair on that head of yours.”

“Good genes. This red hair comes from my mother’s side. She’s Irish. She’s sixty-five and still only has a few strands of gray.”

“Well, you look great.” I had no idea what else to say.

He regarded his watch. “I have to go.” He took another sip of his coffee and then placed the lid on it. “I’m thrilled I ran into you. It will be nice to know someone around town. Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

I bit my lip. Dinner? Was he proposing a date? I wasn’t sure.

“We can talk about Grand Junction, Valleycrest, and anything else interesting around here.”

What would be the harm in that? “Sure, I’d like that. I’m done tonight by six. You want to meet somewhere?”

“Do you have your card handy with an address on it? I’ll just pick you up there.”

I pulled the card out of my laptop case and handed it to him. “Okay, if you’re sure you don’t mind. See you at six.”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I’m looking forward to it.”





Chapter Seventeen





Jonah




I finally got a text from Bryce the next morning before lunch. It said only, “We’re home.”

I called. No answer.

So I drove over. Half an hour later, I arrived at the mayor’s house in Snow Creek. I knocked on the door.

Bryce’s mom, Evelyn Simpson, answered the door. “Oh, hello, Joe.”

“Hi, Evelyn. I came to see Bryce. Is Henry okay?”

Evelyn looked pale and fatigued. “He’s fine. Evidently he had a chill. Last night he was crying and crying, and his lips started to turn blue. We were worried that he was suffering from lack of oxygen, and it was after hours so we ran to Grand Junction to the emergency room. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“So he’s okay?”

“By the time we got to the hospital, he was starting to look better. His temperature was below normal. Nobody seemed to know what caused it. The ER doctor said it was probably a virus. But that confuses me. I always thought viruses were supposed to make your temperature go up, not down.”

“I certainly don’t know.”

“He seems to be fine now. We stayed there a while, ended up being gone all night. Just got back a little while ago.”

“Where’s Bryce?”

Evelyn held the door open for me. “He and his dad are in with the baby. Come on in.”

His dad. My skin tightened around me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to see Tom Simpson.

I walked into the house, following the sound of the baby’s cries. “Bryce?” I said, standing in the door of what appeared to be a makeshift nursery.

Tom Simpson was holding little Henry, rocking him in a recliner. Bryce was putting medicine into a syringe.

“Hey, Joe.”

I cleared my throat, trying not to look at Tom. “I hear you guys had quite a night.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls or texts. I was freaked.”

“No problem, man. I understand. How’s Henry?”

“He’s got a fever now. It was the strangest thing. I seriously thought he was dying.”

“Wow.”

“I can’t even describe how scared I was. You don’t have kids, so I’m not sure you’d understand anyway.”

I thought I’d understand just fine, but I didn’t want to upset Bryce. “What happened?”

“Last night his lips and nail beds turned blue, and every book on raising a kid says that’s a big danger sign. My mom and I totally freaked. Only Dad remained calm.” He looked over at Tom. “You’ll never know how much I appreciate that, Dad. You sure know how to keep your head in a crisis.”

Tom smiled slightly. An eerie feeling swept through me. Remaining calm in a crisis would be a great characteristic…for a criminal. A psychopath.

Bryce handed the filled syringe to Tom.

“Here you go, buddy,” Tom said, putting the syringe to Henry’s lips. “Come on. Take your medicine.”

Tom finally got the medicine in Henry’s mouth, although some of it dribbled down his chin. He wiped it up with a towel and handed Henry back to Bryce. “I ought to get into the office. I haven’t had any sleep, but there are a few things that can’t wait.” He turned to me and held out his hand. “Always good to see you, Joe.”

I flinched a little. I had to shake his hand. Hell, I’d shaken it hundreds of times before. I’d grown up with this guy. He was the father of my best friend. So I forced my arm out and took his hand.

Again, a strange sensation surged through me, like ice-cold water trickling over my neck and chest. My stomach churned.

He conveyed something to me in that handshake, whether he knew it or not, and whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

I felt one million times better when Tom left the room. I cringed, thinking of him holding Henry, taking care of him. I had to find out where Tom’s birthmark was. And I had to find some way to tell Bryce about my suspicions.

How the hell did I tell my friend that I thought his father was a child molester? A sick criminal? It was as bad as finding out my own uncle had taken part. In fact, worse. From what I knew, Larry hadn’t been the one who chopped up and disposed of the bodies. If what I suspected was true, Tom Simpson had not only abused and disposed of random kids, he also did it to his own nephew, Luke Walker.