The Row(33)

And how will she react when she finds out that I didn’t obey?

My fingers rub across the cracking leather on my door. The car had been Daddy’s before he went to prison, and it had been beautiful. Now, eleven years later, we’re all significantly more run down than we were then.

I look at the road before me and am overcome by anxiety. Polunsky is coming up fast on my left. Despite my distractions, it would be hard to miss. It’s built like a fortress. I’d wanted to come up with a plan for how to handle this visit on my drive over, but I’m still not prepared, and I’m already here. The sight of the prison only reminds me that I have no idea how to get the answers I need from Daddy.

When I pull into the parking lot, I wait there for a minute, breathing heavily. I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting there before my phone dings.

Unwelcome Conspirator: I’m worried. Are you sure you’re ready for this?

I glance at myself in the rearview mirror. Forcing my gritted teeth into something a little less like a grimace, I whisper the answer into an empty car. “I have to be.”

*

When the guard brings him in, Daddy looks surprised to see me. It’s possible that, after last time, he expected I’d never come back again. That thought breaks me a little inside, and when he meets my eyes I look away, memories of the last visit still painful and confusing. How am I supposed to see him now? Who is he? Who does he want me to believe him to be?

When the guard removes Daddy’s cuffs, I stand back and study everything in the room except him. I bite one of my nails and then head for the table to take a seat.

“Riley?”

I whip my head up, surprised he’s speaking before the guard leaves.

Daddy holds his arms out for the hug we always share at the beginning of my visits. His eyes don’t seem to hide anything. They’re unguarded and show me nothing but gratitude and an unspoken plea for me to love him like I always have—to imagine him the same way now as ever. It’s something I can’t fully give. Not yet.

His words are far simpler. “I’m so glad you came.”

My gaze holds his and I’m surprised to see him look away first. Then I answer. “Of course.” I walk over and put my arms around him like I’ve done a million times. He kisses the top of my head. I hold on tight, scared to let go. Scared that if I release him, everything will change, even when we both know it already has.

When I try to pull back, he won’t let go. His voice is so low I can barely hear it. “Thank you.”

Confusion fills me and I push with my hand firm against his chest. I feel anger deep within me and I’m not even sure exactly why I’m mad, just that I am. I want him to grovel and apologize and say he’s sorry for what he said, to take it all back, to tell me he was lying when he confessed and explain why he would do such an awful thing until I can’t possibly doubt him anymore.

But he doesn’t do all of that the instant the guard closes the door—and I hate him a little for it.

“How are you, Riley?” Daddy watches me with pensive stillness.

“I’m not good.” I lean back, putting some distance between us. “You heard about the new murder?”

“Yes.” Color flushes his cheeks in a way I haven’t seen in a long time. He looks more alive, hopeful. “Masters was here for a couple of hours this morning. We can’t file any motions until the police finish their preliminary investigation. If they concede that this newest murder opens the door for the possibility that it isn’t just a copycat, they’ll have to reconsider giving me an extension at the very least.”

I frown, momentarily putting aside our many other issues at the prospect of some solid trial information. “How long could the investigation take?”

“Depends. It could be days or months until—”

“Months?” I interrupt in shock. “You only have twenty days left.”

“Believe me, I know, but it actually plays to our advantage that Vega is still working in Houston. He’s the chief now, so they might not assign him the case. But if they do, I think it would be a good thing. He knows the details better than anyone else. He can make that call faster than a new detective would be able to.” Daddy looks nervous now and I find myself analyzing every word he says, every tic. Hearing him speak the name Vega sends me into an entirely different train of thought. What would Daddy think if he knew that I’ve met Jordan, and that we’ve spent time together, and what I’ve told him?

I clear my throat and then mutter, “I guess it’s lucky that Chief Vega is already assigned to the case.”

He lifts his eyes to mine, his gaze abruptly piercing, and I recognize my mistake an instant too late. “Where did you hear that?”

I blink twice before scrambling together a response. “I heard someone mention it on the radio when I was out running errands earlier.”

He nods, seeming to accept my answer, but I catch Daddy watching me closer than before. I decide to change the subject away from Vega.

“How will they be able to tell it isn’t a copycat?” I ask, gathering my courage to bring up the last visit.

“There are always details from cases like these that are withheld from the media. A copycat would get some of the details right, but not others.” Daddy takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second before looking down at where his fingers clasp together on the table in front of him. “At this point, we just hope that every detail is the same. That way they can’t rule out the possibility that I am innocent. That this new victim was murdered by the same killer as the others they’ve believed I killed.”