Sam stopped with a plate halfway to the bottom rack. He hadn’t seen that coming. “So?”
She ducked her head. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
He heard the tears in her voice and quickly set the plate down. “What’s going on?”
“Really, I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”
“I’ll agree with that.” He used his knuckle to raise her head. Tears glistened in her eyes. “But something else is going on. What is it?” Tears leaked onto her cheek, and he brushed them away. “Is it Ryan?”
“No. Maybe.”
He pulled her to his chest. “I’m sorry this is happening. You deserve better than this. Ryan deserved better. We’re going to get his killer.”
“I keep thinking if I could just talk to my brother again, there is so much I would tell him, but most of all that I loved him. I’ll never be able to do that.” She pulled away from him, and for a few minutes they were silent as she washed and he dried. “I’ve heard your dad has become a Christian.”
Sure, he has. To be a believer one had to admit they were wrong and ask God for forgiveness. People like his dad never admitted they’d committed any wrong. “I don’t want to talk about him,” he said.
With a sigh, she nodded and finished loading the dishwasher in silence. “There’s something I should have already told you.”
“If it’s about him, I don’t want to hear it.”
“He has cancer,” she said.
Sam absorbed the information. “I hate to hear anyone has cancer, but it doesn’t change the way I feel or what he did.”
“I get that, but there’s something else you need to know before it happens.” She took a breath. “I’ve heard your mom is going to let him come home so she can take care of him.”
“Mom would never do that.”
“She told her Sunday school class that’s what she planned to do. Her class is going to help with meals.”
The betrayal almost knocked his legs out from under him. He clenched his jaw so tight pain radiated down his neck. Sam made a point of checking his watch. “It’s getting late, and I better go home.”
“Don’t hold on to your anger, Sam. It’ll only hurt you.”
She hadn’t lived with his father. She hadn’t been called stupid and irresponsible. She hadn’t borne the welts on her back from his father’s leather belt. “I have a few things I need to do tonight. Do you know what time you want to take the cat to the vet tomorrow?”
His face burned under her scrutiny. “Whenever I can get an appointment.”
“I’ll call you in the morning,” he said.
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I’m taking the morning off. Brooke can handle the day shift by herself.”
A few minutes later, Sam sat in his SUV staring up at her windows. Emma meant well, but she didn’t understand. He took out his phone and sent her a text.
Sorry for the way I acted. Make it up to you tomorrow.
He held his breath, waiting for her reply.
That’s okay. I shouldn’t have tried to push you into something you didn’t want to do. See you tomorrow. xoxo
Feeling better, he started his SUV. It wasn’t that late, and he had time enough to check out the Hideaway. Once he checked Google for the name of the owner, he drove to the sports bar out on Highway 61 that featured wide-screen TVs and dancing. Judging by the packed parking lot, business was good. Once Sam was inside the building, he paused to let his eyes adjust to the dim light. He doubted his lungs would adjust to the cigarette smoke. Sam ambled to the bar and nodded to the bartender wiping the counter.
“What’ll it be?” he asked, tossing the cloth on a counter behind him.
“Is Charlie Shaw in?” Sam asked.
The bartender looked him up and down. “You a cop? ’Cause we don’t serve minors in here.”
“Nope.” Sam was glad he wasn’t wearing his uniform and gun.
“What do you want with Mr. Shaw?”
“I knew him when I lived here a few years back, and now that I’m home again, thought I’d touch base.”
“Then you should have recognized him when you came in.”
Sam shot the bartender a puzzled look, and the man nodded toward the door. Sam turned. A couple danced to slow music on the floor, but beyond them a short, squat man with an almost nonexistent neck sat at the first table inside the building. Sam didn’t remember the owner resembling a bullfrog. “Didn’t say I knew