Best Crime Stories of the Year Volume 4 by Otto Penzler

Author:Otto Penzler
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781035909759
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

NOW

Peter swoops Simon off his feet and tosses him over his shoulder. He heads toward me, and I’m struck by his casual appearance. Clad in worn Levi’s, a T-shirt, and a Red Sox baseball cap, he looks like he did the day I met him in the UVA bookstore. An easy smile pulls across his lips as he sets down our son and wraps broad arms around me.

“Hi,” I say, my nerves settling. I hadn’t realized how rattled those two guys made me. “You’re early.” I’m grateful, but don’t tell him why. He’ll just worry.

Peter kisses my forehead. “Wanted to beat the traffic. You know what a bitch that is on a Friday,” he says.

“You owe me a dollar, Dad,” Simon says. “I already made three extra dollars from the guys who bought our eggs.”

“You’re right, Buddy.” Peter’s brow furrows. “Go get your stuff.”

“Okay.” Simon skips toward the house, the screen door slamming after he’s inside.

Peter glances around the farm with an air of distaste. He just doesn’t get it.

“Charlie.” His expression is serious. “I hate the idea of you and Simon out here alone. You’re what, twenty miles from town?”

Here we go again. “We’re safe,” I say. This is mostly the truth.

“Come home with Simon and me for the weekend. I can take next week off and help you clean out your dad’s things. We’ll get the place ready to sell.”

There’s an arrogance in his assumption I’ve decided to sell the farm when I haven’t. Besides, this place may be buried so deep in debt, selling won’t be an option. I won’t know anything until I get to the bank.

“It’ll be good for me to go through Daddy’s things by myself. While Simon is off having fun, I can take my time.” I glance at the white two-story where I was raised. “Who knows what Daddy has squirreled away in that house.”

“You shouldn’t be doing this alone.” Peter shakes his head. “Where the hell is Rose anyway?”

My sister. We haven’t really spoken much since the day she left. I didn’t even recognize my own niece and nephew at Daddy’s funeral. Rose didn’t want a thing to do with the farm. She’d flown in the night before the service with her kids, then flown right back out when it was over. She didn’t even bother coming by the house for the potluck. Too many painful memories. I can’t blame her.

“She’s busy with her business and her daughter starts college in a few months,” I say, making excuses for her like I always have. “Anyway, Daddy left the farm to me, not Rose. It’s my responsibility.”

He exhales, “Will you at least take down that sign on the road?” He narrows his eyes. “Give the damn eggs away.” His gaze drifts to the end of the driveway. “I saw the guys who just left. Something off about them.” His lawyer brain. Always skeptical. “You know what, I think Si and I should stay. I’ll call Luke’s mom and tell her Simon can’t go to the birthday party tomorrow.

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