by Jo Crow
“Is there any other topic you’re dying to stick your nose in, or are you willing to leave police work to the police?” Detective Elkins didn’t give me an inch to work with. In one sentence, he let it be known the conversation was over. It didn’t matter—I’d already gotten what I needed from him. A single slip of the tongue had told me more than he would have ever admitted.
Gino Hunt had been investigated by the police, and his name was embroiled in the reopened investigation.
“I have nothing more to ask,” I said.
“Then you’ll forgive me if I end the call prematurely. There’s a lot of work to be done, and I’m not getting to it entertaining calls from you.”
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping you,” I fired back with mild sarcasm of my own, unable to keep it at bay. The stress of the situation was already getting to me. Detective Elkins’s sour behavior only made the situation worse. “Thank you, detective. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, McNair.”
I took the phone from my ear and looked down at the screen. In little more than a minute, I’d learned I could be on the right track—but I also knew I was nowhere near the truth.
Not yet.
But finding out who Gino Hunt was, and what exactly it was he did—how he was connected to my father—at least gave me something to work with.
It was closing in on six thirty. Summer nights meant late sunsets, but I wanted to pursue this all the way, and I knew I’d be driving into the night. Amanda was expecting me, and James would be starting to miss me. Since he’d been born, we’d never been separated for long.
That night, though, I needed him to be strong for just a little longer. With his anti-seizure medication working its way through his system, his wakeful hours would be bleary at best. I doubted he’d even notice I was gone.
I made a new call. As it rang, I pinned my mobile to my ear with my shoulder and smoothed my hands over the steering wheel. I had a charger hooked up to an adapter in my 12-volt outlet, so I didn’t need to worry my phone would die. I could make the drive to Charlotte and back as long as Amanda agreed to look after James.
The call connected before long. Amanda greeted me, cheerful. “Hey, girl. What’s going on?”
“Hey.” I sat back, placing a hand on my phone while I laid the other one on my thigh. “How has James been for you today?”
“Good. He’s been sleepy. Little dude’s tuckered out. I had to wake him up a few times to make sure he got water and something to eat. I understand now why the doctors want him to nibble throughout the day. I’m pretty sure he couldn’t stay awake long enough to get down a full meal.”
I sucked in a breath and led into my next question. “Since he hasn’t been a handful, I don’t mind asking… Could you do me another huge favor?”
“You’re not going to ask me to go out with Samuel, are you?” The playful, upward inflection to Amanda’s words spoke of humor, but there was a little tick of something I couldn’t quite distinguish that muddied the sound. “He’s been snooping around me like a dog looking for a bone… I guess he is looking for a bone, but if he is, he’s barking up the wrong tree.”
It was a good thing I was parked—I slapped a hand over my mouth and snorted with laughter. “Amanda!”
“Hey, come on now. Like that’s the worst thing I’ve ever said.” I heard the wink even though I couldn’t see it. “So, if you’re laughing like that, I’m guessing it’s not Samuel you’re calling about. What’s going on? I’m just pulling your chain, you know.”
“I know.” Amanda never failed to brighten my mood. Despite the tension, I smiled. “I’ve got to run a few extra errands today I wasn’t planning on. Is it okay if James stays with you for a bit longer—say, four or so extra hours? I know it’s pushing pickup time really late…”
“Oh, you’re fine. He’ll sleep through it, anyway.” Amanda laughed. “I just got him to eat something a little while ago and settled him in with some cartoons. The last time I checked in on him, his head was rolling forward like he was about to fall asleep right on the couch. He keeps snapping out of it, but it’s one hundred percent adorable. You did a good job making this one, even if it’s the drugs causing his sleepiness. He’s way too cute to handle.”
I imagined the scene clearly because it was one I so often saw. James, eager to stay awake, fighting against his body’s commands. Sometimes it was in the car when we drove home after any of the hundreds of doctor visits we’d been to. Sometimes it was on the couch of our tiny apartment back home in California we’d had to give up. But best of all, it was when he was already in bed, off his medication, when I was reading him a story he didn’t want to stop listening to.
I felt no guilt leaving him with her for a little longer. I’d carry him to the car, and he’d nestle against my shoulder and whisper disjointed sentences in my ear. All would be forgiven come morning.
Hopefully, we’d be much safer come morning, too.
“Thanks.” If I was going to do this, I needed to get going. It wouldn’t be long before I lost daylight. “I’ve got to let you go so I can get those errands started. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Stay safe,” Amanda chirped. “We’ll be here waiting for you to get back.”
“See you soon!”
I let out a relieved sigh and hooked my phone up to its windshield mount, then plugged in the charger. I pulled the address for Hunt Industries from the website and plugged it into my GPS app, then surveyed the route ahead. State highways, mostly. At that time of the day, I’d be dealing with a little rush-hour traffic, but nowhere near Hickory Hills was going to be congested. As far as I was concerned, it was going to be a smooth drive.
As I crept out of town, taking to the highway that bound it to the next small town along the way, a chilling sense of liberation came over me. Here, without the judgmental eyes of the townsfolk or Detective Elkins’s hateful stare, I was at liberty to be myself.
Whoever Gino Hunt was, and whatever his involvement with my father, could lead me a step closer to figuring out what had happened back then.
He’d help me discover who my parents were.
Who I was.
I’d followed an academic career in psychology looking for that answer—wondering why I acted the way I did, why I had the murky dreams and blackout periods I’d experienced. I’d always been the odd one out, no matter how hard I tried to fit in. Outlandish behavior, compulsion, and issues with authority… I couldn’t remember how it had started, or when, but I knew it had shaded my life and darkened my future. But now, as I looked into the past, I realized there were other details that needed to be explored.
Who would want to kill my parents?
Who would put their remains on the estate?
If the police weren’t interested in finding out the answer—if they were so quick to blame me for crimes I didn’t commit—then I needed to figure that out on my own.
It was going to be a long drive through the twilight, but I knew it was a necessary one. I needed this.
And whether the townsfolk thought so or not, Hickory Hills needed this, too.
11
The roads between Hickory Hills and Charlotte were heavily forested and sleepy. Pink bled across the horizon as the sun set and by the time I left the quiet state highways for the roads running into Charlotte, it had darkened to bright reds and oranges that lit up the clouds for one last show before night set in.
Hunt Industries was located in an industrial section on the outskirts of town, and as I made my way down pothole pocked roads and past looming square warehouses with smokestacks that towered sky-high and belched gray clouds toward the heavens, I began to wonder what it was I was doing here. It was clear Gino Hunt operated a manufacturing plant.
It didn’t make sense. Was it business—connected to the factory? He’d visited my father regularly over several months, yet never once did my father record any of the details about Gino’s visits.
The voice in my head dragged me back to my senses
and sealed my resolve. Even if this was a dead-end, it was a worthwhile endeavor. Gino may have information that would help with the murder investigation.
At the end of the double-wide road leading past grimy factories was a narrow two-way street running perpendicular to my location. My GPS directed me down it. By the look of the map, it seemed to be headed toward town.
The factories became fewer and further between. Smaller shops dotted the landscape, some strung together like strip malls, some stand-alone. All of them dealt with niche items. Car batteries. Autobody shops. Bulk supply stores. Landscaping fronts…
And there, among them, was Hunt Industries.
A line of poorly painted parking spaces was drawn in front of the row of shops. I pulled into one of the spaces and squinted up at the sign above Hunt Industries’ front doors. I’d been mistaken. Hunt Industries wasn’t the corporation my father had been doing business with—Hunt Investigations was.
As I watched, a light inside the establishment flicked off. I unbuckled and exited the car, worried I’d lost my chance. As I hurried for the door, it opened, and a man in his early forties stepped out. Stubble lined his jaw and upper lip, almost long enough to call a beard. In the dying daylight, his buzzed blond hair looked almost white. He wore a simple button-down shirt and a pair of slacks—office casual—but the half-smoked, unlit cigarette behind his ear spoke of independence from corporate life.
So did the keys in his hand.
As I approached, he locked the door and rattled the handle to make sure it was locked. Without turning, he spoke. “We’re closed.”
I wasn’t going to let that be the end of me. “I just need a second of your time, just a little information—”
“Doesn’t matter if it’s a lot or a little. First of all, information doesn’t come free, or I’d be out of the job. Second of all, we’re closed. I’m not taking on anymore clients.”
I stood a little taller, shoulders back and head held high. Gino Hunt, if that was who stood before me, was gruff but he seemed abrupt rather than violent, and I decided it was worth a risk. “I’m not looking to hire you. I wanted to ask you why you were seeing Richard McNair ten years ago.”
Gino’s hand had been on the door handle but, when I spoke, it dropped to his side. After a moment’s hesitation, he drew in a long, aggravated breath and shook his head. “Who are you to ask?”
“His daughter.”
A seagull cawed from overhead, circling high above the parking lot to bid farewell to daylight. The wind rustled my pant legs, and I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. We were in the midst of summer, but the moment chilled me.
“McNair, huh?” He turned to face me for the first time, squinting against the sunlight. I noticed the worry lines in the corners of his lips and eyes. He knitted his brows together, amplifying the lines in his forehead, then shook his head. “Who says I saw your father at all?”
“He recorded meetings with Gino Hunt right before he disappeared, and I need to know why that was. Did he hire you? Did it have any connection to my father’s disappearance?”
Gino raised a hand to his face and rubbed his eyes, exasperated. “Listen, Miss McNair. I have no proof you are who you say you are, other than your word. Besides, I’ll tell you for the third time, we’re closed. I don’t know if you’ll believe it or not, but when I leave the office, I stop being a private investigator and start being a normal guy. Business is kept strictly for business hours, got it?”
“My life is in danger.”
“An emergency, then?” Gino pocketed his keys, taking the chance to slip his hands into his pockets. He met my gaze. From his pockets he drew a scrap of paper and a pen. Using his palm as a makeshift surface, he began to write. “Tell you what? If you’re really so concerned, tomorrow you can make your way to see me while I’m on the job. I’m not going to be in the office, so coming back here won’t do you any good.”
He handed me the scrap of paper. An address was written across it in chicken scratch.
“Meet me tomorrow at that address any time before five, and we can have a little chat about Richard McNair and your life being in danger. But remember, when the time comes I walk out the door, I am off the clock.”
“Got it.” I clutched the paper tightly in my palm. It wasn’t the exact reception I’d been hoping for, but I still considered it a step in the right direction. “I’ll be there.”
“You’d better be.” Gino huffed a laugh. He took the cigarette from behind his ear and slid it between his lips. When he next spoke, he spoke around it. “It’s not every day I break client confidentiality for a pretty face. Don’t make me regret my choice.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but the strange attempt at flirtation threw me off. Taken aback, all I could do was nod.
Gino laughed the same dry, scathing laugh as before, then stepped past me to unlock his car.
He was nothing more than taillights on the horizon by the time I’d pulled myself together enough to make my next move. I realized if I was going to get back to Charlotte tomorrow, I’d need to get my ducks in a row. Between working on the documentary with Samuel and the film crew and looking after James, time was limited. But I wasn’t about to give up. Not when I was beginning to catch my first glimpses of the truth.
“Hey, girl. What’s happening?” Amanda answered my call almost as soon as I placed it. “Everything going okay with those errands?”
“Yeah. Kind of.” I wondered how to best frame the question without coming across as too demanding. Amanda had gone out of her way to be there for me, and I didn’t want her to feel as though I was taking advantage of her. “Before I get into it, has James been okay? Has anything come up?”
“Nope.” I heard Amanda’s smile through her tone. “He’s been a perfect, sleepy little angel. After you last called, I checked in on him to find him asleep, so I put him to bed. Looks like he’s out for the night.”
I breathed out a sigh of relief and let go of the pressure. I had to trust everything would be okay. Amanda had the situation under control. “It turns out I showed up a little too late to get done what I needed to get done, so I have to come back tomorrow.”
“Showed up too late? Where are you?”
“I’m in Charlotte.”
“Some errand.” Amanda whistled low. “So you need to drive all the way back tomorrow morning? I’ve got something going on tomorrow night, so I can’t watch James in the afternoon, otherwise you know I would.”
Shit.
“That’s okay. You’ve been such a big help already.”
“But you know what? When do you need to be in Charlotte?” Amanda clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “I don’t have to be out of the house until the afternoon. I could keep James overnight if you wanted, and you could come pick him up tomorrow before two. Would that work for you? It might be best if you waited to drive back by daylight, anyway. You know what mountain roads are like.”
I did. It may have been a decade since I’d traveled these roads, but as long as I lived I’d never forget the way they twisted and turned through the mountains. Without streetlights, the sharp turns were treacherous at night, and twilight. Night had fallen in the short drive between Hunt Investigations and the nearest commercial parking lot I could find.
“You wouldn’t mind if I stayed?” I asked hesitantly. “You’ll be okay with James?”
“Yup. Taking care of Sleeping Beauty’s not exactly hard work. If you’d left me a kid high on Pixy Stix, we might have some words—but like this? He’s no problem at all.” Amanda paused and clucked her tongue, thinking. “What about his medication, though? You said you have him on anti-seizure meds, right? I’ve got plenty of diapers, but I don’t exactly have prescription medicine around the house.”
“He’s only just started it again today; it’s fine if he misses a single dose because they won’t have begun working through his system. I’m not going to be long—maybe just a few hours late for his morning dose. The thing you need to look out f
or is if he seizes in his sleep—sometimes he’ll lose control of his throat or his face, and he could choke. I know I might be asking too much, so please say if it’s not possible, but would you be able to sleep close to him—keep him by you—just in case? It’s rare, but it does happen, according to the side effects on the medication literature.”
“Got it. I’ve had experience with kids with different medical issues through my work with CPS, so I think I can handle a seizure.”
“It’s such a relief to my mind to hear you say that. You know the drill, then: stay with him. Tell him he’s going to be okay. Rub his back. Try to make him feel comfortable… should be over quickly.”
I hoped I wouldn’t be eating those words later.
“Gotcha. Call me in the morning when you’re on your way back and I’ll have coffee going, okay?” Amanda paused. “I’m going to start unwinding for bed. Take care of yourself tonight.”
“Thanks. And thanks again for looking after James. I knew coming back here was going to be difficult, but I think I overestimated how much I could do on my own.”
“You’re fine. Don’t worry about it.” Amanda hummed, then redirected the topic of conversation. “Before you go, there is one more thing I want to check in on just in case. If you end up running late, or if he has an accident, or if we need anything from the house, which one are you staying at—a staff house, right?—and is there a way I can get inside?”
“Oh! Yeah, for sure. It’d actually be really helpful if you could swing over and pick up some of his clothes for tomorrow—only if he wakes up, I guess. Best to let him sleep for as long as he’s out.” I let my head fall back against the headrest, doing my best to recall the details around the house. “We’re staying in one of the staff houses behind the gate. I think it’s number 27, but I usually recognize it as the house with the tree by the driveway with a trunk that’s split into two separate trees. By the side door is a huge blue plastic pot with a leafy plant. If you lift the pot, there’s a spare key for the front door beneath it.”