Jessica had no idea. She had never considered asking about Fayiz’s family. Yet another thoughtless failure to add to her list.
Danny continued. “So I’m standing there, talking to this man, a good man, who doesn’t know where his family is. And I own a business where my team and I have been busting ass building software for the government to catch bad guys, but at its core, its purpose is to find people. I have to see if we can find somebody.”
“Mm-hmm. That would be helpful. I think this is great, but what—I mean, why... why are you trying to help? You said you didn’t want me to be involved, and now you and your company? And Conor?”
“I’ve been a prick,” Danny said bluntly but confidently. He wrapped his arms around her, reminding her of the icy barbs she’d collected standing outside. She wanted to stay in his embrace until his warmth permeated every cell in her body. He obliged.
“Just be careful, okay?” Danny finally untangled his arms and looked her in the eye. “I also need to tell you that I spoke with my Defense contact a while ago. It turns out the company we lost our contract to, they worked some back doors. There were some campaign contributions. It had nothing to do with Amina, you, or Syria. I was out of bounds. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.” She grabbed his hands, still warmer than hers, and laced her fingers through his. “That night in Baltimore...”
Danny’s head tilted, nonthreatening, nonjudging.
Their eyes didn’t break contact even while Jessica described the three men, her terror, and her dreams. Jessica only broke eye contact when she started crying. The fear, guilt, and shame ran down her face. “I’m so sorry, Danny. I should have told you, but—”
“No buts. I understand why you didn’t tell me. It’s all in the past. We don’t need to dwell on it.”
“No, I should have told you. And after I didn’t tell you, I should have talked to you about what was going on. I—we—can’t let ourselves get to that place of parallel living. We have to talk. As long as we’re talking, I know we’ll be okay. We may say some things we regret or that come out the wrong way, but it’s better than silence.”
Once again, Danny wrapped his strong, warm arms around Jessica. She tilted her head up to see two glistening blue eyes just before they closed and the embrace tightened.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The last words Jessica heard from Danny before she fell asleep replayed in her mind when she opened her eyes to the darkness of early morning. “I don’t want to go to sleep tonight because I’m afraid I’ll let go of you.”
Her right arm was now draped over his chest, their bare legs tangled together. She hated to move, wondering how long he had held her close after she’d drifted away.
She tilted her head back and found him gazing peacefully down at her. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He kissed her softly on the lips then pulled her in close and tight. “I wish I didn’t have to go to work, but I do,” Danny whispered.
“It’s probably for the best. I feel like I just came out of a fog. I’ll be able to take a fresh look at everything today. Amina’s interview is in a week and a half, and I need to get her prepped and any final paperwork together.”
Danny stretched his way out of bed, and she silently thanked him for bypassing his morning exercise routine. “I’ll be home for dinner tonight. Be sure to make something good.” He winked then hollered when Jessica batted him with a pillow. “How about I bring something home?”
A Monday morning blur followed. None of the kids woke on time, and all of them were out the door without so much as a “see ya.” Conor acted as though no heat was on, but she would talk to Danny about it that night, and they would handle it together.
DANNY, HOME EARLY FOR the first time since before Thanksgiving, pulled Jessica’s attention away from the laundry piled in front of her in the family room.
“I brought Italian Market for dinner.” He placed paper to-go bags on the counter. “The kids all home?”
She affirmed and noted the restaurant bags were rumpled in just the right way to indicate that Danny had picked up some wine to go with the lasagna. They would probably need it after talking with Conor.
“I meant to tell you something last night,” she said. “But, well, we got a little distracted.”
“You’re right. We did.” His grin gave Jessica the flutters, but she pushed them aside.
“Yesterday, at the restaurant, when I was handing Conor his phone, a text popped up. Something like ‘the heat is on, delete your texts, no photos.’ I don’t know who sent it. It looked like it was part of a group chat.”
“Okay...” He tilted his head, as if waiting for the punchline.
“Okay? Someone was asking the group to delete all of their texts and photos because the ‘heat’ was on.” Jessica hoped to see some kind of glimmer in Danny’s eyes that would indicate she wasn’t making crazy leaps of logic. “He was busy on his phone the whole ride home. I want to know what happened, what the heat is, and what’s in the photos.”
“What’s your concern?”
“He was out with three of his friends Saturday night—three friends we don’t even know. He hasn’t been social in such a long time, and as you well know, he hasn’t exactly been a golden boy for the past year. I totally dropped the ball on finding out who these new friends are. He goes out, comes in super early—isn’t that odd for a teenager? And then we don’t see him the rest of the night? Is it totally implausible that he snuck back out to join up with the guys? Or they did something so bad they had to split up early?”
Danny didn’t look at her as though she were an alarmist, but he didn’t look concerned, either. “Let’s ask him.”
“Conor, can I see your phone?” Danny’s blank face didn’t betray any suspicions or accusations. For all their son knew, his dad could have been simply asking to see what brand of case Conor had.
Conor had walked into the kitchen to grab a bite before dinner but immediately switched from food mode to defense mode. “No. Why?” He didn’t move.
“Hand it over. Now.” Danny’s sharpened tone shocked both Conor and Jessica. Maybe she would get to play good cop for a change.
Conor glared at Danny but relented, passing his phone as if he were surrendering a pistol.
Danny pressed the home button. “What’s the password?”
“Why? What are you looking for?”
“Just tell me the password, Conor. You know I can get into this phone if I want to. I don’t care what Apple tells you.”
Jessica considered writing the password down as Conor reluctantly recited the numbers, but she knew the code would change within a minute after Conor got his phone back.
“Can you tell me why you’re violating my privacy rights?” Conor’s indignation seemed to be a last-ditch effort to regain control of a situation he knew he couldn’t escape.
Just then, Mikey skipped into the room, stopping abruptly upon seeing the standoff. Jessica shooed him away, and he backed out on his tiptoes, grimacing for his brother.
“Don’t go all ACLU on us, Conor,” Danny said. “You have no rights under this roof.”
“Give me a break,” Conor mumbled under his breath, resigned but still resistant.
“I hope we don’t have to. What did you do Saturday night?”
“What? You know I went out with the guys and came home at ten. I was early. Jeez.”
Jessica pulled out a chair and sat. This dynamic between Danny and Conor fascinated her, and she wondered how Danny had viewed her in prior encounters when she was the one on the offensive against their older son.
“What did you guys do?”
“Just hung out. I got bored, so I came home.”
As much as she enjoyed being a bystander, Jessica couldn’t make Danny carry their side of the confrontation alone. She had raised the alarm, after all. “We just want to know what you guys did while you were out. Playing video games? Poker? Watching TV? We’re just curious. We’re not trying to g
et anyone in trouble.”
“Just hanging out. I don’t know.” Conor also didn’t know where to direct his eyes. Anywhere but his parents’ faces, it seemed. They moved from the laundry to the floor to a crab-festival print on the wall.
Danny rubbed his chin with his free hand. “Then why would you get a text on Sunday morning, telling you to delete all of your texts and photos because the heat was on?”
Conor froze. He looked from Jessica to Danny and back with startled eyes then returned to indignant form. “Why were you checking my texts? That’s not cool.” With his hands flinching by his sides and his jaw swiveling, Conor couldn’t mask his agitation with feigned teenage indifference any longer. “That’s not cool.”
Jessica sighed. “We weren’t checking your texts, Conor. It popped up when I had your phone at the restaurant. You handed me the phone, remember?”
“Here’s the deal, son,” Danny said. “You are going to tell us what was going on that night. Then you are going to tell us what was in the texts and photos.”
Conor tapped his right hand against his thigh in a syncopated rhythm, his eyes flickering back and forth between his parents. “Nothing was going on. Feel free to frisk my phone.” He gestured toward the device in Danny’s hand. “No texts, no photos. Nothing to see here, folks.”
Danny shook his head. “Conor, I’m not stupid. I know you would have deleted any incriminating texts or pictures by now. But I also know that I can access all of that stuff. I’m not the FBI, but well, let’s face it. I’m better than the FBI. Don’t you think it’s better if you just tell us now?”
Conor closed his eyes and tilted his head up toward the ceiling, letting out a muted but extended grunt. His fists clenched, and he gave in. “Fine. We were at Lucas’s, and we were playing Xbox, and his parents were gone, and his brother showed up with some weed. Everyone was, you know, just goofing around.” He stared at the ground and put his hands in his back pockets.
“Did you try the pot?” Jessica tried to keep the tone conciliatory, straining at the unfamiliar role of good cop.
At first, Conor didn’t respond, then he gave a slight nod.
“And then you drove,” Danny said, shaking his head in disappointment.
Conor’s nod was smaller this time.
“Why did you come home early?” Jessica asked.
“Zach, that’s Lucas’s brother, his friends showed up, and they were getting, I don’t know, they were kind of crazy. I just wanted to get out of there. So I came home.”
Jessica wanted to plant her hands on Conor’s shoulders to steady him. His fidgeting was making her nervous. “Did you go back out after you went to bed?”
Conor’s head jerked up, and he looked at Jessica squarely. “What? No. Why would I go back out? Why are you asking that?”
“Just curious,” Jessica murmured.
The fidgeting had stopped, and Conor’s eyes glistened the same as they had last month when he’d asked if he could help with Amina’s case and the same as they had ten years ago when he’d told her how much he loved their new puppy. The sincerity in her son’s eyes told her he was telling the truth.
Danny took back over. “So, who’s the heat? And what was in the pictures?”
“I guess after I left, Zach’s friend brought out some more shit. Sorry, I mean stuff, like drugs or whatever, and it got stupid. Lucas’s parents started asking questions in the morning. He was already in trouble and didn’t want to get completely grounded.” Conor kicked at an invisible rock on the floor. “Those guys are idiots.”
Jessica stood and reached for Danny’s hand.
“I just thought we were going to play Halo,” Conor mumbled with a slight whine that reminded Jessica of a time he had gotten a green gumball instead of the red gumball he’d wanted out of the machine at the mall.
Jessica stifled a laugh, drawing a cautionary hand squeeze from Danny.
Danny nodded toward the doorway. “You can go up to your room.”
Conor eyed the phone in Danny’s hand then looked up at Danny’s face. He paused then turned to walk out of the room. “I’m really sorry.” He didn’t turn around.
Jessica waited until she heard the last creak on the stairs before turning back to Danny. “I can’t believe I’m so relieved to learn that our son only tried pot last night, not to mention grateful for our creaky, old house. I forgot that Conor couldn’t have snuck out without triggering the Gracie alarm.”
Danny spun the phone on the counter. “So, what do we do with Conor?”
“Let’s let it sit for a little while. I don’t want to make a decision when I’m all worked up from the vandalism and hearing about the pot.”
Danny’s face lit up. “I’m impressed, hon. Reasonable and devious all at the same time. We’ll let him squirm while he wonders what we’re going to do.”
JESSICA watched Danny from under the comforter as he set out his clothes for the next morning. “Conor was unusually chatty tonight at dinner. I’m impressed he made a showing, though he does love lasagna.”
Danny hung a tie on the rack. “Yes, I noticed. Maybe we just hold off on meting out a punishment and enjoy the nervous chatter.”
“I think we should give him a pass,” Jessica said. “Just this once.”
Danny raised his eyebrows. “Really? I’d expect to hear myself say that but not you.”
“We know he’s going to make mistakes. Watching him over the past several weeks, I can see that he’s improving. I mean, aside from the trying-drugs thing. But that’s normal. He’s a teen. You know what’s not normal? He opened up to a stranger, who probably felt very uncomfortable at our table. He recognized that he could do something to help her protect all she had left of her family. And he even helped me with figuring out some technology and research things so I could do my job.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“You’re reminding me that all this time I’ve been sulking about the whole Amina thing, I’ve been missing out on your life.”
She smiled. “I’ve been here, honey. You see my life every day.”
“No, really. Tell me about what’s been going on. What’s happening with that H&C program? We’ve never even talked about it. What is it?” The room went dark as Danny flipped the light switch.
“It’s a training program for former lawyers who want to go back into law. It’s called ReCross.”
He stood by the bed, adjusting his clock alarm. “Clever name.”
“It was probably Bronwyn’s idea. Ha!” She covered her mouth in shock. “Oh my God, I sound like my mom. Please don’t let me do that.” She grabbed Danny’s arm in exaggerated pleading, pulling him fully onto the bed before snuggling into him. “It’s been great to reconnect with Bronwyn. I really cut that whole life away when I left the firm. Anyway, if they accept you into the program, you do the training, and then maybe you get a job.”
Danny brushed the hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Is this something you want to do?”
Jessica searched his face for an indication of what he meant, but the darkness hid everything but the familiar curve of his jaw. Did he want her to maintain the status quo, holding down the fort? Did he think she wasn’t up for such a challenge but was willing to humor her?
“I don’t know. I think so. What do you think about it?”
“I think you should go for it if it’s what you want to do.”
“But it would upend everything around here. The kids are used to my availability.”
“The kids can adapt to anything, Jessica. Conor drives, and they can all take on more responsibility. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. You just decide what you want to do first.” He sounded sincere, and he was right about the kids. Maybe she wasn’t actually worried about it not being right for the kids.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Amina stood just far enough away from their regular table to make it clear that she didn’t plan on sitting today.
“Is everything okay? Did s
omething else happen?” Jessica reflexively checked her phone to see if she’d missed a text.
“This. Us. Here.” Amina seemed to be at a loss for words, despite her fluency.
“Here? You don’t want to meet at the coffee shop anymore? That’s no problem. You tell me where.”
Amina closed her eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”
“Please, sit. Let’s talk about it.” Jessica pushed the other chair away from the table with her foot.
Amina waved off the chair and clutched her bag. “I’ve been thinking... about everything. My cousin, he will not say this, but I believe I’m the reason for what happened. I am in the restaurant in hijab. I am the Syrian. He and Sama were punished because of me.”
Amina’s statements could have been true. Jessica had no idea one way or the other but didn’t care. “First of all, you are not allowed to blame yourself. Period. End of story. I’m sure Fayiz and Sama are happy to keep you with them for as long as you need.”
Amina sighed. “I know you’re right. They’re good people. They will help me. And that’s the problem with them and with you. I need to do this on my own. Because otherwise, I will cause more problems.”
“I don’t follow.”
“When I left Syria, my father thought it was right that I come to America. I did not. But Mohammed was gone, and I—” Amina bit her lip, her chin quivering. “I was pregnant.”
“You never told me that.” The paperwork hadn’t mentioned any baby.
“I only thought of me when I left. That is what I did wrong. I should have thought of Mohammed, my family, my friends. But I came to America, and bad things have followed. I was punished, and Mohammed, too. I lost my baby, his baby, shortly after I arrived.”
Jessica’s head was spinning. “Amina, I am so sorry. But you were not punished. There is no punishment going on here. I think you’re just getting nervous about the interview, and the whole restaurant thing was scary.” The espresso machine hissed, reminding Jessica they weren’t alone in the shop.
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