Page 32 of Paternal Instincts
“In Pickering, but I’ve been apartment hunting locally. More jobs in the area. I’m staying with a buddy at the moment.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“John Christie. He lives out in the Flemingdon Park area. Has an extra room and lets me crash there when I need to.”
Jordyn had the iPad, so I wrote the information in a small notebook I carried around for emergencies. We could compile our data later. Flynn shared the address when I asked and offered his friend’s phone number.
“Tuesday evening, around the dinner hour, where were you at?”
Flynn’s gaze shifted inward, eyes flicking back and forth. “Um… I was on the road, I believe. I went home to get more clothes and such.”
“And what time was that at?”
Frowning, Flynn scratched the back of his neck. “I left Johnny’s around five, I think. Traffic was hell, so it was definitely rush hour. It took me about an hour to get home. I was in the apartment for… forty-five minutes or so, maybe longer. Got back to Johnny’s around eight. He was still at work. It’s typical. The guy works insane hours.”
“Did you stop anywhere? For gas? Food? Booze?”
“No.”
“Did you talk to anyone while you were at your place in Pickering? Landlord? Neighbor?”
“No.” Flynn’s forehead creased, and he dashed another look at his brother. Most people at this stage of an interview felt we were accusing them, and poor Flynn was no different. “Why is this important? Am I a suspect?”
“No. Standard questions.” I shifted the conversation before he grew too defensive. “How often do you visit your brother?”
“Whenever I can. He’s a busy man.” Flynn squeezed his brother’s knee, earning a wet smile from Nixon.
“And how would you describe your relationship?”
“Solid.” Nixon nodded, agreeing. “We’re best friends. He’s always had my back.”
“Do you have a good relationship with your niece and nephew?”
“Definitely. They’re great kids. I love them to death.”
“Do you have children?”
I hit a sore spot. Flynn’s expression turned stony as he exhaled a pinched breath and cracked his knuckles. “No. It wasn’t the life I was gifted. Proposed to a girl once, but she had other things in mind. If you want a family and success, you have to be like my brother. Levelheaded.Focused. Goal-oriented. I’m the opposite of those things. Always have been. Ask my parents. They’ll write you a book of Flynn’s flaws.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Nixon said, frowning at his brother.
“It’s true.” He patted Nixon’s cheek. “Look at you with your fancy business, loyal wife, and two-point-five children.” Flynn smiled, but it didn’t take the sting out of his words. “It wasn’t meant for me. It’s okay. I’ve made peace with it.”
I kept an eye on both men as I asked the next question. “Do you ever resent your brother his life?”
“Hell no.” Flynn answered without hesitation, dropping his hand back to Nixon’s knee. “I’m so fucking proud of him.” He gave his brother’s leg another shake.
“You mentioned your parents. How would you describe your relationship with them?”
Flynn chuffed and moved his hand to his lap, threading his fingers together and hitting me with a less-than-authentic smile. “Nonexistent.”
“Why is that?”
Flynn seemed to consider for a long moment before shrugging. “I didn’t follow the Davis plan.”
“What’s the Davis plan?”
A sad smile filled his face. “High grades. University degree. Prominent job in society. I was a rebellious teen and a disruptive young adult who refused to focus on his future or do as he was told. A stain on their family name. I indulged in drugs and alcohol to excess, and they couldn’t tolerate my choices, so they basically disowned me.”
