I Know a Secret

Twenty-four

Daddy is on the phone, his voice quiet and urgent.

“A woman’s been calling here, asking about you,” he says.

“Is it the same woman who called before?” I ask.

“No, this is a different woman. Claims she’s a detective with Boston PD. Says it’s urgent you get in touch with her because she’s worried about your safety.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I checked around. Found out Boston PD does have a Detective Rizzoli who works in homicide. But you never know. You can never be too careful, baby. I didn’t tell her a thing.”

“Thank you, Daddy. If she calls again, don’t talk to her.”

Over the phone I hear him coughing, the same stubborn cough he’s had for months. I used to tell him that the damn cigarettes would kill him someday, and to stop me from nagging about it, he finally quit smoking, but the cough hasn’t gone away. It’s settled into his chest, and I hear the rattle of wet mucus. It’s been far too long since I’ve visited. We both agreed I should stay away, because someone might be watching his house, but this cough worries me. He’s the only one I really trust, and I don’t know what I’ll do without him.

“Daddy?”

“I’m all right, kitten,” he wheezes. “I just want to keep my baby safe. Something has to be done about him.”

“There’s nothing I can do.”

“But I can,” he says quietly.

I pause, listening to my father’s noisy breathing, and I consider what it is he’s offering. My father does not make idle promises. He says exactly what he means.

“You know I’d do anything for you, Holly. Anything.”

“I know, Daddy. We just have to be careful, and everything will be fine.”

But everything is not fine, I think, as I hang up. Detective Rizzoli is looking for me, and I’m astonished by the speed with which she’s connected me to the others. But she can’t possibly know the whole story, and she never will.

Because I will never tell.

And neither will he.