To Love and to Perish - By Lisa Bork Page 0,55
Danny.”
“You know where he is?”
“No. Is he missing?”
“Yes.” I filled Cory in on the football game and the arrest. He wasn’t surprised to hear about Mr. Phillips. In fact, he confirmed my suspicions.
“He’s in a holding cell next to Brennan.”
“Brennan called you?”
“He heard the officer call Mr. Phillips by his name. He knew he had to be Danny’s father from the scar on his neck and the tattoo.”
The scar on Mr. Phillips’ neck looked as though someone had tried to slice it open and finish him off. According to Danny, he’d gotten attacked in prison, the very reason he never, ever wanted to go back there. The tattoo, a heart with a sword running through it and a blacked-out scroll beneath it, was a remnant of a love gone bad. The man had an unhappy past, losing his wife and then her sister, his second love, to untimely deaths. He might have given up stealing cars if not for the fact that he couldn’t read and had no other significant income prospects. Of course, Ray said that was no excuse. I had to agree, albeit unwillingly.
“Brennan didn’t see Ray, so he asked to make a phone call. He wanted to be sure you knew Mr. Phillips was there.”
I knew all right. “Did Brennan say anything about his case?”
“Actually, he said a lot, but you don’t want to hear about it now. It can wait.”
“Tell me. It will take my mind off Danny.” And Ray. “Was he angry at you for looking through his things?”
“He didn’t say.”
“What did he say?”
“His argument with Wayne wasn’t about him being gay. They all found that out right after senior prom night, when Monica expected fireworks and Brennan didn’t deliver. She dumped him and started dating Wayne, who had a reputation for delivering.”
“Really?” I sat up. “Interesting.”
“It gets better. Wayne dated a lot of girls in high school, except for Monica and her friend Elizabeth. It made Brennan sick to think of him with Monica. She was special to Brennan, even if they weren’t right for each other.”
“And?”
“Brennan tried to tell her what kind of guy Wayne was. She didn’t care. Wayne was the right kind of guy compared to Brennan. So after graduation, Wayne, Monica, and Elizabeth were the three Musketeers. Brennan didn’t really talk to them again until Monica called to invite him to go with them to the five-year reunion. He said he was so surprised to hear from her that he said ‘yes’ without thinking. When Wayne couldn’t ride with them, he was relieved.”
“Does he think that’s what they argued about at the reunion? How Wayne moved in on Monica?”
“He doesn’t remember, but that’s his guess.”
“Did he say anything about his argument with James Gleason?”
“Only that James still thought he was driving drunk and didn’t care enough about Monica.”
“Did he tell you anything else?”
“Not really. He ran out of time.”
“You must be thrilled that he called.”
“I would be if he had really wanted to talk to me. He just called me to get the message to you and Ray.”
“But he confided in you. He answered the question you asked him that night you had dinner at his house. That’s a good sign, Cory.”
“I guess so. Listen, do you want me to help you look for Danny?”
“No thanks. Ray’s got the department helping him now. I’m going to stay here and wait.”
“Call me as soon as you hear anything, no matter what time.”
I promised and disconnected. Feeling chilled, I headed into our bedroom to get a sweater. I flicked the light switch and walked into the closet. Chunks of mud covered the carpeted floor. “What the—?”
The biggest pile of mud lay in front of my dresses, which hung to the floor, hiding the wall behind. I shoved them aside and gasped.
“Danny.”
He still had on his grass-stained and muddy uniform, his face a film of dirt. His gaze remained trained on the floor, refusing to acknowledge me.
I held out my arms. “Danny, come here, buddy. I was so worried about you.”
He blinked.
“Danny, we’ll work it out. It’ll be okay. We’ll take care of your dad, I promise.” I wiggled my outstretched fingers. “Come on, it’s okay.”
He fell into my arms, nearly knocking me over. His body shuddered. Great sobs burst from his boney chest. “I want my dad. I want my dad.”
I pulled him tight and rubbed his back, remembering those words. Danny had said them almost a year ago, the night he came to live with us. I thought we’d come a