Page 141 of Sins or Secrets
I stumbled over something that could be important.
It’s a meeting Jackson Fairchild had with a guy that looks shifty as fuck.One of my guys followed him and took pictures.When I ran the man’s image through facial recognition he popped as a drug dealer.A drug dealer meeting up with a politician is definitely noteworthy.I just don’t know what they were up to as it didn’t seem like they were talking shop in relation to drugs.
So maybe it was something else.This man seems to have his fingers in many pies.Something will turn up eventually.With the way I work, I don’t doubt that I’ll find something soon.
Footsteps echo on the floorboards and I lift my head to see dad walking down the corridor toward my office.In his hands is a takeaway bag from my favorite Chinese restaurant.
“Dad,” I say as he comes in.
“Thought I’d have a super late dinner with my son tonight.”
“And you bought Chinese food?You don’t like it though.” I chuckle.
“Tonight’s an exception. When you said you were working late I thought I’d stop by.”
“This is nice.”
“Can you spare the time?”
“Of course.”
“Good, I got everything in there.Chicken chow mein, barbeque ribs and fried rice.”
“Thanks. You went all out.”
“I thought you might need a good break with some good food.And that you might need to talk while we eat.”
During the celebration of Quinn the other night I noticed Dad looking at me, like he was checking to see if I was alright.
There was a phone call yesterday and today.I should have preempted the visit.
I expect Ethan next but he’s been busy too and he’ll be the type to allow me time for things to sink in.He’ll probably also suspect that I might not be ready to talk yet.
It’s different with my father though.
“That sounds good. Thanks Dad.”
I clear a space on my desk so he can lay out the food.Moments later, Dad sits in the chair opposite me and we tuck into the feast.
Dad looks like he’s doing his best to enjoy the food.I think tonight he probably is.What he doesn’t like is the blend of different flavors.He’s more of a steak or roast beef kind of guy.He hardly even eats chicken.
“Food alright Dad?” I chuckle as he starts on a rib.
“Yeah. This isn’t bad. I like the ribs more than the chicken.”
“Of course you do.”
He laughs and as he sets the carton back on the table I know he’s going to try and ease me into talking.
“So, how are things?” he always starts the conversation in that way when he’s not sure what to expect from me.Tentative and with extreme caution.
“Okay,” I reply.
“Really?”
“No, but they have to be.” That’s the truth.
“I guessed that was the case.Son, talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”
