Page 99 of A River of Crows

Sloan took a drink of her own beer. “You should talk.”

Ridge gave a shallow sigh. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but—”

“Shh!” Sloan grabbed the remote and turned up the volume as the news played footage of their father walking out of prison. Felicity and Anna ran, wrapping their arms around him. Kyle, Brad, and their families close behind.

“Wow.” Ridge moved closer, sitting on the coffee table. “Dad has gray hair.”

Sloan folded her legs up beside her. “And grandkids.”

Ridge stared transfixed as the reporter spoke. “Jay Hadfield was released today after spending almost twenty years in prison for the murder of his son, Ridge Hadfield, back in 1988. Jay, a Vietnam Veteran, was Texas’s first, and perhaps most famous, use of the PTSD defense, claiming he killed his son in a dissociative flashback. The jury ultimately convicted Jay Hadfield of manslaughter. The body of Ridge Hadfield was never found.”

Ridge scrubbed his hands over his face. “What a trip.”

“During the investigation into the child’s death,” the reporter continued, “it was discovered that Jay Hadfield had a secret. He had two families. A wife and three children living in Tyler and a long-time girlfriend in Mallowater who had two children with Hadfield. Neither family had any knowledge of the other. Today, when Jay Hadfield was released, only his legal wife and their three children were present. Ridge’s mother, Caroline Radel, could not be reached for comment, but our records show she has spent most of her life in various mental hospitals and living facilities.”

Ridge turned back to Sloan. “They tried to call Mom?”

“I unplugged the house phone right after I came home,” Sloan said.

“Such a fascinating case,” the balding reporter back at the news desk said. “This is the second time in recent weeks that Mallowater has made the news.”

“You’re right, Ralph,” the chipper woman sitting on his right said. “Recently, former Mallowater resident Eddie Daughtry was arrested for the murder of Logan Pruitt after another of his alleged victims, Dylan Lawrence, came forward.”

“Geez.” Ridge shook his head. “Talk about the news hitting close to home.”

“Yeah.” Sloan muted the TV. “Thus, the beers.”

“May need something harder.”

Sloan unfolded herself from the couch. “On it.” She emerged from the kitchen with two gin and tonics, and a bag of Chex Mix. “Slumber party?”

“Hell yeah.” Ridge took one of the drinks and sat back on the couch. “Man, that never stops being weird. Hearing about my death.”

“I bet,” Sloan said.

Ridge kicked his shoes off. “Seeing Dad is the weirdest of all. To say I have mixed feelings about him right now would be an understatement.”

“Yeah.” Sloan took her first sip, and the gin burned her throat. “Dad didn’t abuse me, Ridge.”

“I believe you. Nothing adds up. Mom told me he hit her a lot, but wouldn’t we have known?” I mean, I never even heard them fight.”

“The only time he was violent was during the flashbacks,” Sloan said. “He wasn’t faking that.”

“How can you be sure?” Ridge asked.

“Oh, come on, Ridge. You were there. You saw his eyes. He was out of it. You heard him all the times he’d wake up screaming. Don’t try to justify what Mom did.” Sloan ran her fingers through her hair. “Why did she do this? Why did she lie to you to frame Dad?”

“A crow never forgets,” Ridge said. “I bet she found out about Anna. Remember how distant and strange she got? Remember the night with the pantry? I think she used me to make him pay.”

“Surely not,” Sloan said, but she couldn’t exactly put it past her mother. “You should ask Libby if you’re right.”

Ridge leaned against the couch. “I plan to call her tomorrow. I just hope she’ll be honest with me.”

Sloan downed the rest of her drink. “What about Dad? Do you want to see him?”

“Yes and no. I’m so mad at him about the other family, yet I’ve got all these good memories of him, too. One day at Hastings, I came across that Randy Travis album he loved, The Storms of Life. I bought it and listened to it over and over. It was the closest to home I ever felt.”

“It was the same for me with Keith Whitley.” Sloan jumped up. “I brought down Dad’s old tapes in the attic. Let me see if the Randy Travis one is in there.”

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