“I understand that you had an interaction with your father yesterday.”
“That’s right,” I repeated, wishing Decker could just answer so I wouldn’t have to talk about it.
Rile looked at Decker, who nodded, and then back at me. “Can you tell me about your conversation?”
“There isn’t much to tell. My father interacted with Decker more than with me.”
After each answer, Rile nodded. “Before yesterday, when did you last see him.”
“Nine years ago.”
He leaned in closer. “Are you comfortable talking about what happened the last time you saw him?”
“Comfortable isn’t a word I’d use, but I will tell you.” I felt Decker’s arm across the back of my chair; his fingertips grazed my shoulder.
“I contacted my father and asked to meet with him,” I began and continued with everything I’d told Decker the night before, through to the part when my father had walked me to my car after reminding me that I’d agreed not to tell anyone what had happened. While it was easier to tell the story this time than it had been with Decker, having to think so much about that night brought back memories I would prefer be forgotten.
“Can you remember anything else significant that happened that night?” Rile asked.
“Just one thing.” I turned to Decker. “I didn’t tell you this last night, but when my father yelled for me to leave and wait for him upstairs, I heard something else.”
“Go ahead,” Decker murmured.
“I heard the man say, ‘She looks just like…’ That was it. The next thing I heard was what sounded like my father punching him.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Your parents divorced when you were quite young. Is there anything you recall from that period of time?”
“I don’t remember much of anything. My father wasn’t around very often.”
“Your sister was two years younger than you are, is that correct?”
“No, not two. She was fifteen months younger than me.” I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair. Decker had warned me that I would be questioned; it was more difficult than I thought it would be since Rile’s questions seemed to jump all over the place. “Wait. There is something I remember.”
“Go ahead,” murmured Decker.
“My sister needed surgery. Her appendix, I think. It seemed like right after she got out of the hospital, my mama told me we were moving to Bluebell Creek to live with my granddaddy, and that my father wasn’t going with us.”
When Rile nodded, both Edge and Grinder got up and left the table.
“What’s going on?” I asked, looking between him and Decker.
“Research,” Decker murmured, and then pushed his chair back. “If there’s nothing else you need now, Mila and I are going back to the house.”
Rile nodded in the same way he had before Edge and Grinder left the room.
“He’s an interesting guy,” I said once we were in Decker’s truck and pulling away from the main house.
“Bugs the shit outta me, if you want to know the truth.”
“It’s obvious.”
“It is?”
“You spend most of the time snarling when he’s talking. Even when he’s not.”