Page 31 of Overexposed

“You know how she is.” Another cough escaped him, and then another.

The sound wracked him and it carried even if he covered the mouthpiece on our old landline phone. It was plugged in and parked right next to him. He also had a cell phone, but he liked the big phone.

“Sorry,” he said, sounding winded and weary. “Needed a drink. Hate the cough, but sometimes, it’s just easier to get the unpleasant stuff out of the way. Especially if it’s not gonna hurt anything in the long run.”

He had a point.

Dad always had a point.

“Tell you what,” I said. “You had a big day today, but I’ll see if I can swing around tomorrow with the pizzaifMom says you had a good night and your numbers are good. I don’t mind tangling with her so you can cheat, but I don’t want to bring you anything that’ll hurt you either.”

He grunted. That could be code for Mom was right there or he didn’t like the offer. Or maybe both.

“Deal?” I said, staring through the broken window into my car. Sometimes, it was better to get the unpleasant stuff out of the way. Especially if it wouldn’t hurt anything in the long run. Words to live by.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Deal. But you’re going to get a good report about me.”

“I’d like that,” I said, smiling. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Dad.”

“Shutterbug?”

So close.

“Yes?”

“You’re okay, right? You’re doing okay?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” I promised him, lying with a straight face. The silence that followed my statement demanded that I fill it in. It was how Dad got me to talk when I was a teenager. The day I’d figured that out, I could have kicked myself.

I counted to sixty in my head, but before I got to fifty, he said, “Good. I worry about you.”

“I know, Dad. Just worry about you tonight.” Then he let me go and I exhaled a long breath.

Better to just get the unpleasant stuff out of the way. The words niggled into the back of my mind and jarred loose a fact that I’d been steadfastly ignoring since leaving the Harrison house earlier.

“It might work,” I said to myself before I moved to clean the glass out of the driver’s seat. It was a damn mess, but I didn’t want to sit in it to drive. “It might not,” I countered like I was really having this argument but I started the car anyway.

Instead of the police station or home, I headed back to the Harrison household. Seven Harrison wanted something from me.

It was a card I could play.

chapter

thirteen

Seven

It was nearly lunchtime when Jerry finally left. He planned to meet with Ollie and the lawyer before they went down to the police station. Gem fucked off to work after giving me a dirty look, like I’d been the one to make his little fuck buddy leave.

Clearly, she wanted an out and she took it. One of the cleaners stuck her head into the library.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Harrison,” the girl said. I couldn’t remember her name, but she was one of the younger cleaners. I was pretty sure she’d only started here a month ago. Not more than two months.

I shook off that meandering thought. It really didn’t matter except I couldn’t recall her name, if I’d ever been given it. Rather than make her feel bad, I just went for a neutral, “Yes?”

“I usually take care of the library right about now, but I don’t want to interrupt you.”

A couple of more caustic remarks popped into my head.Like you’re interrupting me right now and you’re implying you want me to decide what you should do if you aren’t cleaning in here.Still, I swallowed the responses and shook my head.

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