CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Sitting at the light in her RAV4, Haddie checked the message on her phone. She tried to ignore the smell of spice and coconut milk from her curry take-out. Her stomach growled.

Andrea had replied with one word, “Yes.”

Haddie sighed. Her three texts had been long, explaining Mark Colman’s second business and the oddities that Haddie had barely skimmed in the financial reports. She’d carefully avoided the strange origins of the fire. Somehow though, they fit, just not in Andrea’s defense strategy. A trip to the import business might give her a lead, if they were still open after his death. The phone on record had been his cell. Going there seemed the only logical plan.

This meant skipping her morning class. She didn’t worry, she would pass, but with the dog-fighting ring and now Mel, she’d put herself behind. She had to catch up on the paper that was due Monday over the weekend.

The light turned green and she followed a beige Camry, checking the traffic behind her. The odd SUV that might have been following her hadn’t shown up again. It very well could have been her imagination. The dogfight gang was still locked up; they’d failed to post bail, which was a good sign they were just a small group. Still, it didn’t hurt to pay attention.

Haddie turned down her street and groaned. Under the overhang of her two-story apartment, Dad leaned against his Shovelhead, parked beside her Fat Boy. How long had he been sitting there? His long auburn braid draped over his shoulder. With the shaved side of his head caught in her headlights, he almost looked Viking, but the black Harley shirt killed that image. He turned toward her, forced a smile, and stood up.

She pulled into her parking spot next to him and stared at the design her lights made against the wood siding. Shadows grew longer at each successive layer of planking that climbed up the wall. Why did he think it was okay to just show up? She had too much going on to deal with him tonight. Sighing, she shifted into park.

Haddie stepped out and gave him a tight-lipped stare. “What do you want, Dad?”

“You said we could talk later.” He wore his riding gloves with the fingertips cut out. He smoothed his hair from his forehead to the start of the braid.

She raised her eyebrows. And this was later? “I’ve got schoolwork.” Lingering at the side of her car, she ached to find out more — to understand. Their last meeting had left her more confused than she’d ever been. Only Mel’s case had helped her bury the impossible dates he’d given her.

“You’ve got questions. My answers will not make sense, but I’m willing to try.”

“Your answers don’t make sense.” She pulled her hair back and closed her eyes. “You lied to me, when I was a kid.”

“Yes. I lie to everyone about my age. Except when I finally told you I don’t age.”

She opened her eyes and shivered. ‘I don’t age.’ It had been the very statement he’d made when this all started. The answer she’d insisted he give her. The questions had started years ago when she was a teenager, and he’d managed to avoid answering for a long time. He didn’t grow old. He grew beards, mustaches, shaved the sides of his head, and had changed over the years, but he didn’t age. She’d managed a photo of him when she was eighteen, but otherwise he carefully avoided cameras and cell phones. He looked the same six years later. She felt weak, ready to cry; it had been a long day. She could see Mel being taken out of the office. Andrea’s curt replies and arrogant Detective Cooper still weighed on her. Haddie couldn’t take any more today.

“I —” She wanted to know, but she was too worn out. “I’m going to Portland tomorrow; if the rain holds out, I’ll ride. Do you want to come?” I’ll be fresh — awake. They could sit at one of the rest stops and clear this up. Her chest tightened at the thought. This close and I’m procrastinating.

He nodded and grabbed his helmet off the seat, a black skull cap. “Meet you here. What time?”

“Sunrise.” His favorite time. She hadn’t even thought the trip through.

He lifted his head as he buckled the strap. He hadn’t shaved his chin, leaving reddish-brown stubble. “Can we come in through twenty-six?”

Haddie snorted. “No. I’m not taking an extra four hours to get there. This is work.” She took in a deep breath, feeling like they had broken through some barrier. Weight lifted off her.

Dad grunted and threw a leg over his bike. “Sunrise. Love you.”

She didn’t reply as a large knot swelled in her throat. They’d become so distant. She walked around the back of the RAV4 to get to her passenger door. His Shovelhead blasted alive and the fumes filled the parking area. She had no appetite, but she’d eat. Then she had to get to work on her paper — get something done on it. Her dad pulled down the street as she retrieved her satchel and slid it over her head. She picked up the take-out bag and stared into her car. The day had taken its toll. Tomorrow promised some new resolutions, both in her case and with her dad. Revelations, hopefully.