Parting Shot

Fifty-two

Albert Gaffney was slumped on the couch watching NCIS on the TV when his wife came in and sat down on the recliner.

“It’s late,” Constance said.

“How is he?” Gaffney said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“He ate most of the soup. And a tuna sandwich.”

“Well, that’s something,” he said.

“Isn’t this a repeat?” she asked, glancing at the set.

“I think so, but I’m not really concentrating on it. Where’s Monica?”

“She’s in her room, listening to music.”

“Hmm.”

“Albert,” she said.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the screen, as though mesmerized by it.

“Albert, turn that off,” she said gently.

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her. He seemed to be weighing her request. Finally, he picked up the remote and clicked it off.

“What?”

“We... we need to talk about things.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. Everything’s done. The car’s clean. The garage has been hosed down. It’s all been taken care off. All you have to do, Maureen, is keep your mouth shut. If you keep your mouth shut, we’ll be fine.”

“It wasn’t... He wasn’t the one.”

Albert stared at her.

“They’re looking for that Calder man.”

“I know. I talked to Duckworth.”

“So... that means it probably wasn’t the man who... That man. He’s not the one.”

“He’s the one,” Albert said. His jaw tightened. “And even if he wasn’t the one who put those words on Brian’s back, he still hurt him. So... there’s that.”

He hit the button to turn the TV back on.

“Albert.”

He sighed, killed the TV again. “What now?”

“The police will be asking questions. They’ll be coming back.”

“No one saw me. No one saw me at the dump, either. No one saw anything.”

“There’s Brian,” she said.

“What do you mean? He’s home now. He’s going to be okay.” He gave her half a sneer. “You got what you wanted. He’s back with us.”

Constance looked at him, wondered what Albert had become. She’d never feared him before, but she did now.

“The police will be coming to talk to Brian,” she said. “When Frommer’s wife reports him missing, if she hasn’t already, she’ll probably tell them about the fight he had with Brian. They’ll want to question him.”

Albert shook his head slowly. “It’ll be okay. Brian was in the hospital all through the time that Frommer was missing. He has witnesses. It will be okay.” He paused. Worry crept across his face. “Unless...”

“Unless what?”

Albert rose and left the room without saying anything else. He went upstairs and lightly rapped on the door to his son’s room.

“Yes?”

He pushed the door open. Brian was in bed, his head on the pillow. He had his bedside lamp on and was reading a Sin City graphic novel.

“Got a sec?” Albert asked.

Brian put his book face down on the covers. “Sure.”

Albert came in and sat on the edge of the bed. “It’s good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be here. I think I might give up my apartment.”

“Well, get yourself well and then you can think about that. It might be the right thing to do.”

“The hospital gave me some pills. They’re kind of helping with the pain.”

“Good. That’s good. Look, there’s something we need to discuss.”

“Okay.”

“When I was driving around and found you, you told me about Ron Frommer, what he did to you.”

Brian nodded.

“Who else did you tell?”

“I didn’t tell anyone. Remember, I was afraid of getting him in trouble, in case he took it out on Jessica.”

“That’s right. So you didn’t tell them at the hospital?”

“No.”

“You didn’t tell the police?”

“No.”

Albert nodded. “Okay. It’s possible, there’s a chance, that the police might want to talk to you about him.”

“Did you tell them? Dad, I told you not to.”

“No, no, I didn’t do that. But if Jessica were to tell them about the two of you, then the police might come talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. But only if she told them. Why would she do that? She’s not going to want to get him into trouble.”

“Well, she might,” Albert said. “You see, if anything were to happen to Ron, they’d want to talk to anyone who’d gotten into an argument with him in the last few days.”

Brian looked puzzled. “I don’t understand. Am I in trouble?”

“No. How could you be? You were in the hospital. If something happened to Ron, well, you couldn’t have had anything to do with it.” He paused. “But there’s one thing I need you to remember, in case anyone ever asks you any questions about him.”

“What’s that?”

“You never, ever told me his name. You never, ever told me where he lived.”

Brian’s look of puzzlement grew. “But I did.”

“No,” his father said firmly. “You did not.”

Brian let this sink in for a few moments. “Okay,” he said, finally. “I never did.”

Albert smiled. “That’s good. And no matter how many times someone might ask you the question, it’s always no. You never told me.”

Brian’s head slowly went up and down. “Right.”

Albert patted his son’s blanket-covered thigh. “That’s good, son. That’s good. Now, you get better, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And when you’re better, we’re going to see what we can do about your back. Right?”

Brian nodded.

Albert stood and walked to the door. As he was slipping into the hall, about to close the door, Brian said, “Dad?”

“Yes, son?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Brian.”