She frowned at that piece of news. "Why would he leave?"
"Because you accused him of murdering his mother."
"That's not what happened, Darcy. Is that what Mom said?"
"Pretty much, in between her wild sobs."
"I simply asked Dad about the fast-food bag in Natasha's car the night she died. The food was not eaten, and by all accounts Natasha was a health nut. The only times she went to get that kind of food was when she was with Dad. It was their thing to do. She'd pick him up from practice or school and they'd get a burger. It made me wonder if she was supposed to meet Dad that night or if he was in the car and he left before he ate, before she was killed."
"She shot herself up with heroin. How was she killed?"
"I don't know exactly, but it's possible someone else injected her."
"It's possible?" Darcy screeched. "You're accusing Dad of terrible things on some incredibly ridiculous possibility?"
"It's not ridiculous, Darcy."
"Then why didn't the police ask these questions? Why are you the only one who is coming up with new ideas?"
"I don't know. The police report is far too short for what should have been a much more thorough investigation."
Darcy blew out a breath and got up and paced around the small sitting area. "Why are you obsessed with this? Is it just about making the movie? About your big break?"
"It's not about that at all anymore. Yes, I did think of it that way in the beginning, but I originally got involved because Grandpa asked me to. Now, I want to do it for Natasha."
"Natasha? You act like you know her."
"I feel like I'm starting to. She's becoming clear in my mind, while other people are becoming blurrier, like Dad, and even Mom. Their resistance is…weird."
"It's not weird. Dad hated his mother. She abandoned him. I don't know about this story with the burgers, but he told me he rarely saw her after she left. And she was a terrible mother." Darcy sat back down, an odd light in her eyes. "Although there was this one time…"
"What?" she asked curiously.
"I was about fifteen. I was late for curfew and I went around the backyard to sneak in and Dad was sitting on the deck. It was two in the morning, and he was drinking. I was shocked because he never drank. But he had a half bottle of Scotch next to him. When he saw me, he just blinked at me. It was so strange. He asked me if Mom was looking for him, and he didn't seem to realize that I was just getting home. I said no, that I had seen him outside and wondered if he was okay. He said it was a bad night. It was the night his mom died."
She leaned forward, even more interested in the story now. "Seriously?"
Darcy nodded. "I played along. I was thinking more about how I was going to get into the house than what he was saying, but his words were so strange they stuck with me."
"What did he say?"
"He said he made a terrible mistake, because he was young and stupid and selfish. He hoped I never knew what that felt like. I asked him what the mistake was, but he didn't answer. He just took another drink and looked out at the pool. I went into the house. The next morning, he acted like nothing had happened. He never said anything about our conversation, and I didn't want to bring it up, so that was that. I never saw him like that again. And I don't think he ever mentioned Grandma's death again, either."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I thought you'd rat me out if you knew I broke curfew."
"I wouldn't have done that. You were the one who always told on me. I never got you in trouble."
"Because I rarely did anything against the rules, whereas you did just about everything."
"Well, you broke curfew at least once," she reminded her.
"Tim's car broke down."
She gave her sister a doubtful look. "Really? That's your story? You weren't making out and lost track of time?"
"Whatever."
Like her father, Darcy hated to be caught in a negative light.
"You and Dad are a lot alike," Maya said. "You both hide your weaknesses. You're always afraid someone will think badly of you."
"I'm happy to be like him. He's a good man. He's successful. He's a great husband and father. And now he's hurting, because of you. You