The Truth About Family

by Kimberly Van Meter

  They arrived at Colin’s truck and Danni volunteered to get the sweatshirt.

  “Thanks,” she said, feeling suddenly awkward. She hugged herself for warmth. “I’ll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I just threw it in there last weekend for a fishing trip that never actually materialized.” Danni hollered that she found it and Colin turned to her. “Listen,” he said, his voice rushed as if he didn’t want Danni to hear what he had to say. “I just want to thank you again for keeping Danni safe. Right now I’m on her hit list and I was afraid she might do something rash just to get back at me.” He placed a hand on her arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Thanks.”

  She swallowed hard in the hopes of untwisting her tongue but all she could manage was a short nod. The flesh on her arm tingled with warmth and if she hadn’t witnessed him dropping his hand she would’ve sworn they were still touching.

  “She’s a great kid,” she said, hoping he realized the compliment was a reflection of his parenting skills.

  “Yeah, she is,” he acknowledged but his smile was sad.

  “I just wish…”

  Colin stopped as Danni appeared with a bundle in her hands and Erin was almost desperate to hear what he’d been ready to say.

  “Here’s the sweatshirt, Erin,” Danni said, tossing the garment her way. “It doesn’t stink so it must be clean.”

  Erin raised the sweatshirt to her nose and gave it an assessing sniff. Colin rolled his eyes and she smiled. “All clear. Thanks, I appreciate the loaner. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”

  “No rush. I know where to find you.”

  It was an innocent statement but it sent her heart to racing. Don’t be ridiculous, she gave herself a stiff reprimand before acknowledging his words with a quick nod. “I’ll see you later, then.”

  She held out her hand to Danni and thanked her for helping her find some great shots. The beaming smile she received in return caused something to blossom in her chest that was not unwelcome but she wasn’t sure what to do with it. She gave a short wave and hurried back to the festival, deliberately squelching the attraction to Colin Barrett that continued to grow the more she came into contact with him. Hanging out with his daughter certainly hadn’t helped in that department, but she sensed a kindred soul in the young girl, creating a pull that was hard to ignore.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KNOWING THAT ERIN was the one who’d found Danni had sent Colin’s mind moving in strange directions. When he’d come upon them, Erin was showing Danni the mechanism of her camera. The rapt attention on his daughter’s face had illuminated a dark place in his heart. The picture of the two, heads almost touching, sent a wistful yearning twisting through his body that nearly stole his breath away. He hadn’t realized that he was ready for someone to come into their lives but seeing Erin perched next to his daughter awakened a desire he’d long thought dead.

  He risked a quick look at Danni in the darkness and breathed a silent prayer of gratitude that none of the horrifying scenarios his mind had obligingly provided had actually come to fruition. He returned his attention to the road, content to let the lecture that was coming to her die on his lips. There’d been enough excitement for one night.

  “How do you know Erin?”

  Surprise over the fact that his daughter had initiated conversation momentarily took him off guard. When he realized the window between them might slam shut with too pregnant of a pause, he recovered to offer the safest answer he could think of within such a short time frame. “I’m investigating her father’s accident, the one on Old Copper.”

  “I know. That’s the one that Ms. Walker died in.”

  He nodded gravely, the sad tone of Danni’s voice tugging at his heart. “Well, Ms. Walker was Erin’s aunt.”

  “I know, she told me.”

  He was embarrassed to admit that he wished Erin had been as forthcoming with personal information with him as she had Danni, but he knew confiding in a preteen was wholly different than opening up to an adult.

  “Did she tell you where she’s from?”

  “No, but she told me she works for a really big magazine. That’s what she was doing at the festival. Do you know where she’s from?”

  “Well, she’s from here but she lives in San Francisco now.”

  “Figures.” Danni snorted. “Nobody with that kind of talent would hang around this dull place if they didn’t have to.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he countered, frowning. “There are plenty of talented people who chose to stay.”

  Except for whatever reasons, Erin hadn’t been one of them. Colin couldn’t help but wonder what might have been if they’d met when he moved here years ago. Realizing he was wandering into dangerous territory, he forced a chuckle. “But you’re probably right in Erin’s case. Granite Hills must seem dull in comparison to the life she leads in San Francisco.”

  “That’s the understatement of the year,” she said, the derision in her young voice hard to miss. “She’s a big-time magazine photographer who travels all around the world taking pictures of famous people and places. She told me she took a picture of Johnny Depp for a special Oscars issue but it wasn’t half as cool as shooting some famous mountain in Tanzania.”

  “Mount Kilimanjaro?” He guessed and she snapped her fingers in recognition.

  “Yeah, that’s it.” She slumped in her seat. “So, why would she want to stay here? Nothing exciting ever happens in this tiny place. I’ll bet we’re not even on the map.”

  “We’re on the map,” he assured her but was rewarded with a heavy sigh. “So, you think Erin’s pretty cool, huh?”

  “She’s the coolest person in Granite Hills, that’s for sure,” Danni said, letting her gaze fall to the passing scenery out her window.

  I would agree, he answered silently as they pulled onto their street. He wished he’d made some excuse to go around the block a few times just to keep Danni talking. This was the first time she’d opened up to him since the big blow-up and he was reluctant to sever the moment. But their driveway was soon in sight and he knew his opportunity had passed.

  “Here we are,” he announced unnecessarily as he put the truck into Park, wondering if this were a start to a grudging truce between them. “Danni…” he began, stopping her as she moved to open the door. She waited, watching him warily.

  “What?”

  “I…nothing. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

  She swallowed then gave the slightest of nods to indicate that she’d heard him. Two seconds later she was out of the car and heading toward the front door.

  Colin leaned back against the headrest, hating the ache in his chest at the rift between them. He tried not making a habit of playing the what-if game but he’d do anything right about now to rewrite the moment Danni had found that damn death certificate. A part of him wanted to just sit down and spill the whole sad story but the knowledge of how much the truth would hurt held him in check. If she were to know the whole truth would she forgive him? Would she understand? His thoughts turned to Erin. What would she think if she knew? Would she condemn him as Danni had? Too many questions. Not enough answers. Sighing, he grabbed the keys and locked up.

  ERIN PULLED UP TO THE CABIN she’d spent half her childhood trying to escape and fought the urge to turn around. Much like Caroline’s house, the cabin wasn’t much to look at, but unlike the rambling farmhouse, her father’s cabin had started out that way. It was basically a two-bedroom shack with barely enough square footage to support the bedroom space. Looking back, Erin was surprised her father had thought to put in indoor plumbing.

  Coming face-to-face with yet another piece of her childhood made the gooseflesh pop along her forearms. Her gaze roamed the mud-slicked yard where an abandoned chicken coop leaned dispiritedly against a sturdy elm. The entire place seemed dejected and forgotten. Much like she’d been.

  Shaking her head at the useless direction of her thoughts, she jerked the door ope
n and got out. Colin was bound to show up any minute and she wanted to get this over with.

  The snow had stopped but the air was so cold any hint of moisture would freeze instantly. Shivering, Erin wound her woolen scarf tighter around her neck and slipped her shaking hands into the lined leather gloves that were all but useless in this type of weather. As her breath plumed in frosty curls before her, she vowed to pick up a pair of North Face gloves while she was still here and made her way toward the front door. Careful to avoid the worst of the icy mud puddles, she climbed the steps to the porch and let herself in.

  The dim interior was dank and cold. The practical side in her immediately questioned the roof’s integrity. An image of her father shivering under a thin blanket, listening to the steady drip of water invading the small cabin, filled her mind and an unexpected pang of worry pierced her chest. Shrugging it off, she reminded herself that her father’s comfort level was none of her concern. It wasn’t as if he’d cared much about her comfort when she’d been young, left alone frozen and starving so that he could go on a bender.

  A knock from behind jerked her back to the present. She turned and motioned for Colin to enter.

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  Define “long,” she wanted to quip. Two seconds was too long in this dump. “No,” she answered, turning to survey the room. “So, what are we looking for?”

  The sound of Colin’s booted footsteps followed until he was standing beside her. “Anything that looks out of place.”

  Erin made a rude noise. She wouldn’t have a clue as to what was normal in her father’s life. The only out-of-place thing she could immediately identify was herself. She tried stifling her sense of frustration but a little seeped out in the tone of her voice. “Could you be a bit more specific? I’m not accustomed to digging around in other people’s stuff.”

  To his credit, instead of ruffling at her openly derisive comment, as she would have done if the situation had been reversed, he gestured toward the small desk against the living room wall, directly beneath the window. “Start there. Look for papers that may have been rifled through or anything that looks like it’s missing something,” he said.

  Like my manners. Erin almost sent a guilty look skyward just in case Caroline was watching—no, frowning—from her perch in heaven and made a mental note to be less touchy. It was a wonder the man wanted to spend more than five minutes in her company. She’d done nothing but snap at him since she’d laid eyes on him. Well, some of it was warranted, she shot back, wondering who in the hell she was arguing with. Great, she thought as she grimly surveyed the desk and its scattered contents, by the time she left this place she’d be certifiable.

  Her fingers moved in useless circles around the desk. She couldn’t help Colin. Her father was a stranger to her. She didn’t even know what he did for money these days. When she was a kid he used to haul lumber, then when the lumber mill went out of business he delivered wood during the winter months and did odd jobs during the summer. But surely, he was too old to be doing that now?

  Erin turned the small desk lamp on, bathing the surface in a weak glow, and sat down. A calendar, some receipts and a few pencils were all that she could see. Pulling the calendar toward her, she read the few appointments he’d marked down. Aside from a star on each Tuesday of the week, the calendar was bare. Except, she noted, the week of her father’s accident, there was a star on the day previous. Monday. Why? Her inability to come up with an answer made her toss the calendar back to its place. “You find anything?” she asked, turning away from the desk.

  Colin emerged from the kitchen area, looking equally frustrated. “No. How about you?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, how about the drawers? Did you check those, too?”

  “Um, no.” She risked an embarrassed laugh. “Guess I won’t be quitting my day job anytime soon.”

  He flashed an unexpected grin, and she found herself smiling back, surprised by the appearance of a dimple in his left cheek. Sweet…

  An odd pang of longing caused her to turn abruptly and jerk the first drawer open. Pencils, pens and a box of matches slid to the front with the force of her action. Annoyed at herself for acting like an idiot, she gently closed the drawer and proceeded to the second. Unlike the first, this one didn’t open so easily. It felt weighted down. Gripping the handle with both hands, she pulled the drawer open with a mighty heave. The contents spilled out as she dropped the drawer to the ground and stared.

  Magazines.

  “You find something?” she heard Colin say over her shoulder but she couldn’t find her voice to answer. Dozens of American Photographic stared back at her. Ripping her gloves from her hands so she could get a better grasp, she flipped through the magazines, searching for the publication dates. Her eyes widened. They were numbered sequentially from the first to the last of the year. Confusion and an inability to accept what she was seeing gripped her mind and the one in her hand slipped from her fingers. American Photographic wasn’t available in Granite Hills, which meant he would’ve had to drive to Ontonagon, the largest city in the county, to get them. A picture of Charlie’s beat-up truck rumbling toward civilization floored her.

  Impossible. As much as her father loved to drink, he’d still hated the twenty minutes it had taken to drive to the pub. And she was supposed to believe that her father drove an hour to buy magazines she knew he’d never read? It was possible—though not probable—that he ordered a subscription. But as far as she knew, her father had never in his life opened a checking account. He preferred the security of cold, hard cash. It was easy to spend and easier to hide.

  “You got something?”

  She risked a look at Colin, hoping he couldn’t sense the thundering in her heart from the confusion she was sure was in her eyes. “My magazines,” she answered, hating the soft, vulnerable quality to her voice. She cleared her throat. “I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything. It was just unexpected.”

  “How many?” he asked, ignoring her attempt to brush him off.

  “Twelve,” she said, amazed the words didn’t get stuck in her throat. If she and her father had shared a normal relationship, the discovery of the magazines wouldn’t have been out of place in the least. But their relationship was anything but normal. Didn’t they hate each other?

  “Well, if he has every single issue for the past year, he probably has more hidden somewhere. Any idea where he might stash them?”

  His logic was in direct opposition to what she thought she knew of her father. But she couldn’t deny the proof staring back at her.

  “Erin?”

  His gentle prodding drew her gaze. She licked lips that felt cold and dry, and focused on the question. “The hall closet, maybe…” she answered, slowly rising. “That’s the only place I can think of. None of the bedrooms have closets.”

  Closing the distance between the desk and the hall, she opened the narrow door and flipped the light. There, stacked neat as a pin, were three piles of magazines, all bearing the American Photographic label. Confusion and something less easily defined sapped the strength from her legs. Dropping to her knees, she ignored the sudden pain ricocheting up her leg, and thumbed through the stack closest to her.

  Another year. Every single issue accounted for.

  Rocking back on her heels, she barely noticed when Colin dropped down to crouch beside her.

  “One I might understand. That’s easily enough explained…but all of them?” She turned to him. “From the looks of these stacks, he’s kept every single issue since I came aboard American Photographic. That was five years ago. Why? Why would he do that?”

  “He’s your father,” he answered, as if that were all the explanation needed. When she continued to stare at him as if he’d just spoken in a different language, he continued, “My parents have a garage full of my high school sport trophies and even old homework assignments. Hell, I’ve kept nearly everything Danni’s ever made. It’s just what parents do.”

>   That’s what normal parents do. Not hers. Her father hadn’t even attended her high school graduation, or any other milestone in her life for that matter. Why would he start now? It was on the tip of her tongue to say just that, but she couldn’t bear to see pity reflecting from Colin’s eyes. Or anyone’s, for that matter.

  “Right.” Rising, she pushed away from the closet and closed the door. “I was just surprised, is all. I never knew my father was much for magazine reading. I didn’t even think he knew where I worked,” she murmured, despite her decision to keep quiet. Colin looked ready to comment but Erin changed the subject. “So, did you find anything of value to your investigation?”

  His mouth twisted and she knew he didn’t want to let the subject go, but he did. Immensely grateful, she swallowed hard and gave him her full attention.

  “Unfortunately, no,” he said, his hands coming to rest on his hips, one poised right above his holstered Glock 40. “Seems your dad didn’t leave much of a bread-crumb trail for me to follow.”

  She smiled in spite of the lingering shock. “You don’t know how pleased he’d be to hear that. He values his privacy.”

  Like father, like daughter, Colin added silently. Moving away from the closet, he surveyed the rest of the small room. Talk about spartan living. There wasn’t much to look at. A ratty old sofa, the desk and a scarred, wooden end table with thick legs were all that he could see. There wasn’t even a television. Or a phone, he realized with a start. Who didn’t have phones nowadays? He sighed. “Well, seems we’ve hit a big zero with this part of the house. Mind if we check the bedrooms?”

  Erin paused and Colin could swear she was mentally preparing herself for the answer. The porcelain cast of her skin took on a deathly pallor but she nodded. “Go ahead,” she said, striving for a nonchalance he didn’t buy for a minute.

  The false bravery tugged at his heart and reminded him of Danni. The urge to pull her to his chest and shelter her against whatever bad memories this place held for her was stronger than it should have been. Somehow the urge felt more primal than just the basic need to protect every cop feels for victims or, in this case, the victim’s family. Frustration at the inexplicable feelings she evoked in him roughened his voice. “You can wait out here.”