Page 33 of Twin Threats In Austin
“What about your mom?” she asked.
“She left before Dad died,” he said. He didn’t normally talk about the past with anyone. It was a little too easy to talk to Rochelle. That made her more dangerous than felons with guns. His body could take the hits.
Could his heart?
Chapter Twelve
“I’m sorry to hear that, Camden.” Rochelle couldn’t imagine growing up without her parents. Her time with them had been too short, for sure, but she was grateful for every minute spent together.
“It’s fine,” he said. “The tricky part is that we recently learned that she’s been talking to our grandfather.” He made a face.
“Does that blow your mind?”
“Well, yeah, wouldn’t it blow yours?” he asked. Before she could answer, he continued, “I haven’t heard from her since I was a kid. Too young to have much more than a couple of distant memories. But I grew up wondering what the hell I’d done wrong to make my own mother run off.”
Her heart ached for him when he put it like that. “That’s awful, Camden. There are no words.” She paused long enough to take another bite of food. “So she just left without warning, and you never heard from her again?”
“Yes,” he said.
Wow. Rochelle could scarcely fathom a parent abandoning their young child. Or what kind of circumstances would make someone to that to something so defenseless.
“And you have a brother and a sister, right?” she asked.
“That’s right,” he said, shaking his head.
“Did she ever say why she left?” Rochelle asked.
“Why would I ever speak to the woman?”
Rochelle realized she’d walked into defensive territory with Camden. “Believe me when I say there’s no excuse for turningyour back on your children. But I think I’d always wonder about it if I didn’t give her the chance to explain herself.”
“Yeah? That’s where the two of us are different,” he said with a coldness in his voice she hadn’t heard before. He had every right to be upset.
“You aren’t the least bit curious about her?” she asked.
“I can’t deny that I’ve had the occasional fleeting question or two while I’m getting a physical and the nurse or doctor asks about family history,” he admitted.
“You never asked your grandparents?”
“Nah,” he said. “No real reason to and I didn’t want them to think they weren’t enough.”
“What if your mother had been calling to check on her children all these years?” she asked. “Would that change your impression of her?”
His full armor came up. “Why would I care?”
“Point taken,” she said. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“Are you finished eating?” he asked. Not exactly a subtle hint, considering her food wrappers were empty.
“Sure,” she said softly. “We should head to the Laundromat.”
With a curt nod, he stood up and then stacked his tray on top of hers before taking both to the garbage. A sign above the trash read: Your Mother Doesn’t Live Here. Clean Your Own Table.
She followed after grabbing the empty drinks, and wondered what the tip jar at the cash register had been for. They’d stood at a cash register to give their order much like every fast-food chain she’d ever patronized. They’d picked up their order when their name had been called. And they’d bussed their own table when they were finished eating. Last she checked, tips were for service. Maybe she should slide herself a couple of bucks instead.
The thought amused her, which was much needed after the serious conversation with Camden and the reality of diving back into the investigation.
Since the Laundromat was close and they would arrive within the office hours listed, she didn’t see the need to call ahead. If the owner wasn’t there, she could get his number and they could drop by his or her home. Surprise visits often revealed how much someone already knew. When they expected you, they had information. Or were guilty of something. Because most honest people reached out to law enforcement to offer information or help if their establishment was at the center of a criminal case.
