Page 125 of A Lesson for Laurel

His phone rang in his hand and he noticed it was Abe so he went behind the garage and answered.

“I shut the door all the way,” Abe said when he answered. “I always do. Otherwise it slams against the house and chips the damn siding. I got sick of replacing it.”

“You locked your back door, right?” he said quietly.

“Yes,” Abe said. “Always. What kind of question is that?”

“I was walking up the back stairs and noticed the door is open a crack.”

“Fuck,” Abe said. “Someone must be in the house.”

“I’ll check it out,” he said.

“Call the police,” Abe said. “Or I’m doing it right now. Don’t go in. Stay where you are.”

Easton wanted to go in and protect the home he’d grown up in, but the last thing he needed to do was put himself in danger.

He waited where he was to see if someone came out. He didn’t hear anything going on in the house.

After a few minutes, he couldn’t wait another minute and started to climb the stairs again. He nudged the back door open. There was a baseball bat right in the mudroom by the door and he picked it up, then moved into the kitchen.

He heard a noise in the front of the house close to the office he’d worked in and made his way there.

There was mumbling and some cursing and then a creaking noise as if someone was removing a nail somewhere.

He turned the corner and saw a man on the floor with the throw rug folded back. The guy was trying to open what looked to be something cut into the floor. He’d never seen that before. There were always rugs over the wood floors.

He had a flashback of the guy in front of him. Even the side profile.

“Dad?”

His father lifted his head. “Easton. What are you doing here?”

“What the hell are you doing breaking into Abe’s house?”

“I didn’t break into anything,” his father said. “I have a key.”

“What?” he asked. “No way Abe would give you a key. Nor would Uncle Kurt.”

“I used to live here,” his father said. “When you were a kid I’d stay here when your mother kicked me out. I had a key.”

He couldn’t believe his uncle never changed the locks. “I don’t buy it.”

“Fine,” his father said, shifting back. Age hadn’t been kind to the man who was balding and had loose clothing on as if he’d lost weight recently. “I had one made years ago when I was visiting you. I need money. Your uncle always left cash hidden here. I saw him do it once.”

“And you think Abe does it?” he asked. He was positive Abe would have told him if that was the case. His cousin had a safe hidden inside in a nook in the bedroom closet.

“I do,” his father said. “I’ll get out of here and no one will know.”

“You think I’m going to let you break into Abe’s house and steal from him? Not likely.”

His father stood up. He was just a shell of a man that he remembered. He couldn’t even remember the last time he saw, let alone talked to his father.

“Your mother is ill. We need the money.”

“I’ve never believed anything you’ve said before and I’m not going to do it now.”

Easton didn’t even know if his mother was alive. It was more likely they both needed another fix and that was why they were sick.

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