A Son's Tale

She looked at him, almost with curiosity, and then she shook her head.

“He was after my father’s money, but I didn’t get that at all. Not even a hint. My father saw through Todd the first night he met him. He tried to tell me. When I wouldn’t listen, he forbade me from marrying him. I defied my father and ran away with Todd to get married, as anyone would do for the love of their life. I was promptly disowned by my father, and then, as soon as Todd realized that I wasn’t good for my father’s money, he was gone, too.”

“He turned his back on Sammie, too?”

“He didn’t know about Sammie then. Neither did I, actually. I didn’t find out I was pregnant until after Todd was in jail.”

“In jail?” If the guy had hit Morgan, hurt her, jail was too good for him.

“He borrowed my car to have access to my key ring and promptly made a duplicate key to my folks’ place. He went through my private papers, found where I’d written the new code to my folks’ security system, and the next night when he was supposed to be at work, he broke into their home, stole everything of value he could find and trashed the place. Ostensibly he did it all to get what he believed was coming to him, owed to him, for having taken on a life sentence with me. Unlucky for him, he was caught. Daddy pressed charges and I saw the light.”

She showed very little emotion. A bit of self-deprecation was all. As though the bastard’s shortcomings were somehow her fault.

“Is he still in jail?”

“No. He got out a couple of years ago, on good behavior. He’s married again, to some older heiress who has full control of her fortune.”

“And he’s never tried to see Sammie?”

“Nope. His wife can’t stand kids. Anyway, Sammie thinks he’s dead. I was divorced and had reassumed my maiden name before Sammie was born. I listed his father as unknown on his birth certificate. I figure I’m going to have to explain that to him at some point but it hasn’t come up yet.”

“And once you divorced, your father acknowledged you again?”

“Technically I’m not sure he ever disowned me. I don’t know whether or not I was ever written out of his will. Or, if I was, if I’m back in it. But no, I’m still not welcome in their home. Not unless I’m willing to move back into the house and allow him complete control over Sammie’s upbringing. And me.”

“Surely he couldn’t expect you to do that.”

Another glance from Morgan, this time meeting his gaze head-on, and Cal was angry all over again. This time at the man he’d spent the night trying to like for Morgan’s sake. “I’m certain that right now my father believes I am fully to blame, in whatever way, for Sammie’s disappearance. He doesn’t believe I’m capable of making sound decisions, proven by the fact that I’m twenty-nine years old and still an undergrad working for little more than minimum wage.”

“You’re a single mom who works full-time and goes to school full-time, too.”

“But, you see, I wouldn’t have to work at all, or go to school for that matter, if I’d only do what I was born to do and be a Lowen, representing the Lowen family on various charities and boards. If I’d married right I’d be living in luxury, and my father would have two-point-five grandchildren by now and would be molding them to follow in his footsteps.”

“In today’s world? That kind of thinking went out a long time ago.”

“Not really. Not in the society my father keeps.”

“Was your father born into money?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I don’t like having to watch my son walk out the door in shoes that have a hole in the toe. I don’t like lying in bed at night counting pennies in my head over and over, trying to find a way to make them add up differently. But no, I don’t miss a life of privilege. I’d rather worry about money than give up my right to think my own thoughts and live my own life. I love kids. And teaching and—”

“Ms. Lowen?” Detective Martin was at the door.

Cal helped Morgan up and they turned together to face the detective. “Yes?” Morgan’s voice held hope. And dread.

“We’ve heard from our people at the bus station. There is absolutely no sign that your son was there. Either yesterday or today.”

She held the door open and Cal followed Morgan inside. The three of them sat in the living room—Cal in the chair he’d dozed in, Detective Martin on one end of the couch and Morgan on the other.

“Are you certain there’s no place else you can think of where Sammie might have gone? Any favorite place he’s visited in the past?”

Morgan shook her head. “Not that I haven’t already told you.”

“Have you checked the University of Tennessee?” Cal asked. “Maybe he’s hanging out around the basketball courts.”