Blood Trail by Michael Lister

Author:Michael Lister [Lister, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781947606104
Publisher: Pulpwood Press
Published: 2018-04-15T22:00:00+00:00

29

“Had a couple of interesting phone calls today,” Anna says. “One from Chris’s mother, the other from Carla.”

“Oh yeah?”

We are in our kitchen cooking dinner together. Well, she’s cooking. I’m helping. Through the case opening above the oven, we can see the girls playing on the floor in the living room while watching a kids’ adventure movie that involves birds and dogs. Beyond them, through the french doors, Tater is running around the backyard on his chain while evening slowly expands toward dusk.

Anna is standing at the stove. I’m across from her at the sink, though my upper body is twisted toward her.

“Audrey, that’s Chris’s mom, who he always told me was dead, says Chris’s dad, Lyle, plans to hire a PI and a PR firm, both in an effort to attack you and the department and accuse us of killing Chris and covering it up.”

“Can he afford that?”

“There are always those who charge cut-rate prices to exploit your grief,” she says. “Hell, some’ll do it for the publicity alone, but she says he’s going to use his savings and mortgage his house.”

“Why’d she tell us?”

“She has nothing to do with it and believes it will only make their pain and grief worse. She really wants to meet her granddaughter before she dies and thinks if Lyle can meet her too that he might—that it might help him heal some and maybe he won’t try to destroy our lives and his own in the process.”

I think about it.

“Whatta you think?” she says.

“I think it’s your decision and I’ll support you in it and help with it either way,” I say. “What kind of sense did you get from her on the phone?”

“I felt like . . . like even if none of the rest of it worked I wanted her to meet her grandchild. I may be projecting . . . probably am . . . but I found myself relating to her. She seems too kind and . . . she was realistic about Chris. I just thought . . . maybe . . . if the mother of a monster can be a decent person maybe the ex-wife of one can too.”

I drop the knife in the sink and step over to her. Pulling her away from the stove, I spin her around and hold her.

I start to say several things, but stop each time, deciding instead just to hold her.

“How could I have married such a . . . man?” she says. “How could I have stayed married to him? What’s wrong with me?”

I don’t say anything, just continue to hold her, as the girls play and the pots on the stove go without stirring.

“That wasn’t rhetorical,” she says. “I’d like to hear your thoughts on the subject.”

“Sorry. No one is responsible for who they marry as a kid—and that’s what you were. You were still in high school when you started dating him. And then . . . trying your best to make it work, to figure it out and not fail .

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