“Why is he such a secret?”
“My father never knew him,” Dad says. “Wait. That may not be true. Let’s just say my father never mentioned him to me. But that doesn’t mean anything, because my father was the biggest liar on the planet. I mean, the man faked his own death twice.”
My eyes pop open.
“Yeah, there’s a lot you guys don’t know,” Dad says. “None of it is that important now. At least I never thought it was. But with these new developments… Hell, I never even knew who this half uncle’s mother was. And that’s the weirdest thing with this birth certificate that Brendan Murphy uncovered. The father is on the birth certificate but not the mother? How does that even happen? The mother is there at the birth.”
“Got me. Except that Dale said—” I stop.
“Dale said what?”
Shit. I’ve stepped in it now. What the hell? This is my father. “Dale says that the Steel family is good at doctoring documents.”
Dad doesn’t deny my statement. He merely nods.
“So you already know that.”
“Like I said, there’s a lot your uncles and I haven’t told you.”
“And why is that again?”
“We’ve been through that. We wanted to spare you and your cousins and brother all the headache and heartache we went through.”
“What about Dale and Donny?”
“We couldn’t spare them everything, but we could spare them some. We couldn’t erase what happened to them, but we could make sure that nothing like that ever touched them again. My father’s brother is deceased. But he had children. Grandchildren.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. And it looks like a couple of them are coming out of the woodwork. They believe they deserve a cut of the Steel fortune.”
“So give it to them,” I say. “It’s probably theirs anyway. You always say we couldn’t spend our total fortune among all of us in five lifetimes.”
“It’s not that simple, son.”
“Why not?”
“Because it was my father—your grandfather—who built this company into what it has become. His half brother had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re saying his descendants deserve nothing?”
“All I’m saying is that it’s not that simple.”
I know the look on my father’s face. I’ve been seeing it since I was a kid, since I can remember. It’s that stern look that says the subject is closed for now. I’m your father, and I have the last word.
He is still my father, and I respect that. He’s a good father. But I’m an adult now. A grown man.
So much is going on in my head. I can’t get that young nurse out of my mind. Someone put a vial of atropine in her baby’s diaper, for God’s sake. What the hell is going on? Why have they targeted our family?
Dad doesn’t even know about the nurse in Grand Junction. I can’t tell him—not without checking with Dale and Donny first.
But again, I know my father. I see his mind churning. He knows there’s something I’m not telling him.
My father has always been able to read me like a book. Now that I’m older? I can read him like a book just as well. It’s creepy in a way.
Dad pulls his shoulders back, stands tall and strong. He’s ready to face me, ask me what I know.
I don’t wait for the question. I dive into the water and swim.
More laps. Lap after lap after lap, until my body feels numb.
Finally I stop at the edge of the pool, lift myself out. Dad hands me a towel.
“Nice form,” he says.
“Thanks.”
“Nice save too.”
“Meaning?” I ask.
“You know exactly what the hell I mean.”
I meet his gaze, forcing myself not to nod. “I’ll tell you what you want to know if you tell me what I want to know.”
“I think you’re forgetting who the parent is here,” Dad says.
“No, I’m not. Not at all. But I’m a grown man, and I no longer have to answer to you.”
“You’re living in my guesthouse.”
“Fine. I’ll move out. I’m entitled to a tract of land on this property, just as Dale and Donny are. Just like all the rest of us are.”
“Don’t move out,” Dad says. “Your mother likes having you here.”
“And you?”
He clears his throat. “You know I like having you here. It was especially helpful when Talon was in the hospital. Having you close by while your mother and I were occupied with him was a blessing. We knew things were taken care of here at the house. We appreciated that.”
“Fine. I’m happy to stay in the guesthouse. I’m happy to help out when I’m needed. Don’t throw that in my face again, Dad. It’s not fair.”
He doesn’t reply. That’s the Jonah Steel way of apologizing. My father is tough. Tough and hard and uncompromising. He’s a good man at heart, though. A very good man. Even when he goes off half-cocked, it’s always for what he perceives is a good reason. A just reason.