start eliminating Billy’s people?
“Think about it,” he said. “And before you choose, think about where your future truly lies.”
C HAPTER 7
C olin’s truck was back in front of Morgan’s. So was a black Ford sedan, crookedly parked, sporting municipal plates. An inspector from the building department, maybe. The health department.
Or the police.
Inside, the room felt watchful, like everyone was holding their breath. Charlie was somberly polishing glassware at the far end of the room. In the booths lining the wall, the customers kept their heads down and conversations low. Colin stood at the window, pivoting to follow my movements as I entered.
“Everything go okay?” he asked. I nodded, focused on the bar where my father stood with two men I didn’t recognize. Judging from their smug demeanor and lack of clipboards, I was pretty sure they weren’t the health department.
“You can look all you want,” my father said, leaning against his push broom. “Nothing to hide.”
“Really, Jack? You were in a hurry to come back here. Twelve years in Terre Haute and your first stop is your old job? Your old boss? Seems like maybe you haven’t changed.”
“I’ve changed,” he said evenly. “But I have a family to support. If a man wants to take care of his wife and child, you can’t hold that against him.”
The two men exchanged glances, and one of them scoffed. “You’re saying you’ve learned your lesson? That’s great to hear. A valuable contributor to society. We need more of those. You won’t mind if we come visit now and again, will you? Make sure you aren’t forgetting?”
The other cop called to Charlie. “I like my Scotch on the rocks. Two cubes. Might as well start remembering.”
Charlie sent him a look that would blister paint, and turned back to his polishing.
The second cop chuckled and turned around, catching sight of me. “This your girl, Jack? We’ve seen her around before. You knew Joseph Kowalski.”
Slowly, my father straightened, shifting his weight like he was about to pounce. He lifted the broom slightly, adjusting his grip on the wooden handle. But it was the look in his eyes—splintering rage and absolute determination—that had the two cops stepping back. I did, too, bumping up against Colin.
“Come on,” he said, mouth at my ear. With the slightest pressure, he nudged me toward the door, but I stood my ground, transfixed by the sight of my father’s transformation into something ruthless and deadly.
“No,” my father said simply.
“No?” The cops exchanged glances, part puzzlement, part nervous humor.
“No. Do not talk to my daughter. Do not go near my daughter. She does not exist for you.”
Just then, Billy stormed up. “What the sweet hell is this?” He raked a glance over the cops. “You have a warrant?”
“Came in for a talk. Nobody invited us to Friday’s party.”
“No one here wants to talk to you. Either show me a warrant or get out of my bar.”
“Sure. We’ll stop by another time, Jack, just to catch up. Make sure you’re adjusting to life outside.”
“Maybe a bunch of other times,” the other cop chimed in.
They walked, the shorter of the two men pausing to meet my eyes. Colin’s hand tightened on my arm, but we were all silent as they ambled out.
When the door had swung shut behind them, Colin spun me around to face him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Confused, more than anything. I wondered if they worked with Jenny. If they knew about our arrangement.
Billy and my father were deep in conversation at the bar, glancing at me every few minutes. “What did they want?” I asked.
“They’re warning your dad. He’s the weak link in the chain, and everybody knows it.”
My father and Billy approached. The murderous look in my dad’s eyes was gone, replaced by a wearier, more familiar one. The sound of idle chatter and clinking glasses resumed.
“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” my dad said.
“Guess
“Think about it,” he said. “And before you choose, think about where your future truly lies.”
C HAPTER 7
C olin’s truck was back in front of Morgan’s. So was a black Ford sedan, crookedly parked, sporting municipal plates. An inspector from the building department, maybe. The health department.
Or the police.
Inside, the room felt watchful, like everyone was holding their breath. Charlie was somberly polishing glassware at the far end of the room. In the booths lining the wall, the customers kept their heads down and conversations low. Colin stood at the window, pivoting to follow my movements as I entered.
“Everything go okay?” he asked. I nodded, focused on the bar where my father stood with two men I didn’t recognize. Judging from their smug demeanor and lack of clipboards, I was pretty sure they weren’t the health department.
“You can look all you want,” my father said, leaning against his push broom. “Nothing to hide.”
“Really, Jack? You were in a hurry to come back here. Twelve years in Terre Haute and your first stop is your old job? Your old boss? Seems like maybe you haven’t changed.”
“I’ve changed,” he said evenly. “But I have a family to support. If a man wants to take care of his wife and child, you can’t hold that against him.”
The two men exchanged glances, and one of them scoffed. “You’re saying you’ve learned your lesson? That’s great to hear. A valuable contributor to society. We need more of those. You won’t mind if we come visit now and again, will you? Make sure you aren’t forgetting?”
The other cop called to Charlie. “I like my Scotch on the rocks. Two cubes. Might as well start remembering.”
Charlie sent him a look that would blister paint, and turned back to his polishing.
The second cop chuckled and turned around, catching sight of me. “This your girl, Jack? We’ve seen her around before. You knew Joseph Kowalski.”
Slowly, my father straightened, shifting his weight like he was about to pounce. He lifted the broom slightly, adjusting his grip on the wooden handle. But it was the look in his eyes—splintering rage and absolute determination—that had the two cops stepping back. I did, too, bumping up against Colin.
“Come on,” he said, mouth at my ear. With the slightest pressure, he nudged me toward the door, but I stood my ground, transfixed by the sight of my father’s transformation into something ruthless and deadly.
“No,” my father said simply.
“No?” The cops exchanged glances, part puzzlement, part nervous humor.
“No. Do not talk to my daughter. Do not go near my daughter. She does not exist for you.”
Just then, Billy stormed up. “What the sweet hell is this?” He raked a glance over the cops. “You have a warrant?”
“Came in for a talk. Nobody invited us to Friday’s party.”
“No one here wants to talk to you. Either show me a warrant or get out of my bar.”
“Sure. We’ll stop by another time, Jack, just to catch up. Make sure you’re adjusting to life outside.”
“Maybe a bunch of other times,” the other cop chimed in.
They walked, the shorter of the two men pausing to meet my eyes. Colin’s hand tightened on my arm, but we were all silent as they ambled out.
When the door had swung shut behind them, Colin spun me around to face him. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Confused, more than anything. I wondered if they worked with Jenny. If they knew about our arrangement.
Billy and my father were deep in conversation at the bar, glancing at me every few minutes. “What did they want?” I asked.
“They’re warning your dad. He’s the weak link in the chain, and everybody knows it.”
My father and Billy approached. The murderous look in my dad’s eyes was gone, replaced by a wearier, more familiar one. The sound of idle chatter and clinking glasses resumed.
“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” my dad said.
“Guess
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