Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Chapter Thirty-Two
JOSIE
It doesn’t take long before my dad is knocking at my door. “Come in,” I call out, grabbing my bag. Dad pushes the door open, his eyes dropping right to my schoolbag.
“Josie, we both know it’s Saturday.” Busted.
“Why didn’t you say anything? I would almost look silly if I showed up there.” I muster up a bewildered expression, the best that I can. My acting skills aren’t too bad.
“Well, no one would be there to see it, and I knew it would get the boy out of the house.” It’s kind of funny when my dad refers to Bam as a boy, but I keep that thought all to myself. “I’ll make breakfast,” Dad says before turning and leaving. He doesn’t close my bedroom door, making it clear that he’s expecting me to come to this breakfast. I follow him.
“So how’s work?” I try to make small talk to fill the silence, hoping that maybe he’ll forget about the cops being here to question me.
“Sit.” He points to one of the chairs at the small dining room table. I do as I’m told, dropping down into it. “Now you’re going to fill me in on things.”
“I think it’s better—”
“Josie,” he cuts me off. “I know you have a lot of leeway because of my job, and you’ve had to grow up faster than you should have, but humor me.”
“We’re a team, Dad. Don’t be feeling guilty about being gone. You’re doing it for me.” The trucking company he works for offers some of the best health insurance. It’s also a union. I just think in his line of work most are male, and they have wives at home watching over the kids. With Dad, it’s always been him and me.
“I do it because you’re my little girl. It’s my job to take care of you.” He pulls eggs and sausage out of the fridge.
“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“I know.” He lets out a deep breath, setting everything down on the counter to lean up against to face toward me. “I just worry about what you’re up to. That mind of yours, while often brilliant, scares the hell out of me too.”
“That makes two of us.” Dad fights a smile, shaking his head at me. “You know me. I’m only poking around.”
“When you poke shit, you never know what might come out. It might not be what you were looking for, but now it’s paying attention to you.”
“I hear you, Dad. I’m going to poke. This is the direction I’m going in my life.”
“This Cole kid?”
“He’s dead.”
“You knew that before the cops told you?” I nod. “What else do you know?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I’m a father interested in what his daughter is interested in. God, I know you’re not inviting me to a volleyball game.” I snort a laugh. Yeah, sports were never my thing.
“All right,” I say and fill him in on some of what Bam and I know while he cooks breakfast. Dad sets three plates down on the table when he’s done.
“The kid is looming outside. Tell him to get in here and eat.” My dad finally relents.
“Dad!” I smile, jumping up from my chair. He pulls me in for a tight hug. “I want you to like him. He really does look after me and pushes back when he thinks I’m stepping too far.” I try to plead Bam’s case. “I was already poking into this. He pushed himself into all of this because he was worried about what I might get into. He also monitors my blood sugar. Saved me one day,” I add in for good measure.
“I made the kid a plate.” I take that as a good sign. It’s my dad’s equivalent of saying he doesn’t hate Bam.
“Okay, I’ll go get him.” I start to head toward the front door and pause. “He’s alone. No family left.”
“I hear what you’re saying.”
With that, I head out the front door to see where Bam is lingering. It doesn’t take long at all for him to pop up the second I’m outside.
“Come inside.” I wave him toward me, though he is already coming. “Dad already busted me on it being Saturday. He made breakfast.”
“And he wants me to come?” Bam’s expression turns skeptical.
“Yes, he made you a plate and everything. Told me to go get you. I filled him in a little.” I take Bam’s hand and lead him back into the house. He gives my dad a nod when we enter the kitchen area. “Sit.” I point to one of the chairs. Bam drops down into it. I get everyone something to drink. “Not everyone talk all at once,” I tease.
“I was thinking,” Dad starts. “You don’t find it strange that Cole’s father took so long to report him missing? You said he was already convinced he was dead?” Dad is shaking his head. “I don’t get that. Kid’s on the basketball team, so his grades have got to be somewhat decent, right?”