| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted April 1, 2011 | Chapters: |
...21 22 -22- 23... 
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Who the hell is Dad?
A chapter in the book The Heir Apparent
Quid Pro Quo Part 2
by Sasha
| Background Short and to the point. Hope to post the next chapter today or tomorrow at the latest. |
Mr. Hurley's comment, "There are some things your father told me I am not permitted to repeat", flashed like a red neon sign inside my head demanding my full attention. Mac's continued silence bordered on rude causing me to wonder what, if anything, he knew.
Not ready to implicate Mom or Aunt Em in something that I knew in my heart would lead me down a path of no return, I decided to broach the subject from a different angle.
"Other than vague references about an abusive father, a mother that died when he was a baby, and a sister no one talks about, Dad's life before he married Mom is a well kept secret."
Mac acknowledged my comment with a blank expression. He casually caught Betty's attention with a wave of his hand, signaling he wanted more coffee. Unable to contain my frustration a moment longer, I abruptly slammed my fist onto the table. Despite getting the attention of everyone in the room, Mac didn't flinch. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "James, some things are best left alone."
Without hesitating, I snapped, "I'll be the judge of that!"
"James, let it go. We've got him. He's never getting out of prison. Connecting him to a murder in Snohomish County could blow his plea bargain out of the water. Don't you think it's time for you to move on?"
Mac released a long, thoughtful breath. "James, this is still an ongoing investigation. I shouldn't even be talking to you."
I wasn't interested in hearing Mac's speech on politically correct police procedures. My frustration was quickly turning into anger. "You just don't get it do you? Dad didn't wake up one day and say, 'Gee, I think I'll go out and kill someone'. I need to know what made him into the monster he is. I don't need you, Mr. Hurley, Mom, or Aunt Em protecting me from the truth."
I didn't give Mack a chance to respond. "The choice is yours. But, one way or another, with or without you, I am going to get the answers."
To my surprise, Mac smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, James."
* * * * *
Casual conversation was not my forte. Years of experience gave Mac his own special way of getting people to relax and open up to him. It was suddenly very clear that tonight he was the teacher and I was the student.
Always the consummate professional, Mac spoke in a noticeably precise tone, choosing each word carefully. "Tell me exactly what you know about your dad's childhood. Don't leave anything out."
"That's the problem, I don't know anything."
Mac repeated the question.
"What little I know is mostly hearsay; conversations I've overheard between Mom and Dad, stuff like that."
"Fine, tell me what you think you know."
"Grandma and Grandpa owned a small farm in rural Bellingham where Dad and his older sister grew up. Apparently Grandpa kept to himself, ruled the family with a heavy hand, and a big stick. Grandma died when Dad was still very young and his sister raised him. I guess Dad was a pretty good student and earned a scholarship to Washington State University where he met Mom. They got married, moved to Seattle, and from what I know, he never went back to Bellingham, not even when his dad died. I know nothing about my Aunt. I don't even know her name."
"Didn't you find it odd that your dad never talked about his family? Weren't you curious?"
I tried not to laugh. "It's one of those you had to be there to understand situations. When you grow up in a family with a father that makes all the rules and controls the amount of air you breathe, you'd be surprised how you accept the odd as normal. Of course I was curious but curiosity was something we learned at a very young age to keep in check."
Realizing again that my entire life was based on a lie, I paused to catch my breath. I suddenly felt tears well up in my eyes thinking about Mom. Knowing she was the product of more than twenty-years of meticulous brain washing caused me to wonder if I would ever know the person she was before Dad got hold of her.
I wiped the tears from my face, took a sip of cold coffee, and then said, "Okay, Mac, now it's your turn. Tell me what YOU know."
Not ready to implicate Mom or Aunt Em in something that I knew in my heart would lead me down a path of no return, I decided to broach the subject from a different angle.
"Other than vague references about an abusive father, a mother that died when he was a baby, and a sister no one talks about, Dad's life before he married Mom is a well kept secret."
Mac acknowledged my comment with a blank expression. He casually caught Betty's attention with a wave of his hand, signaling he wanted more coffee. Unable to contain my frustration a moment longer, I abruptly slammed my fist onto the table. Despite getting the attention of everyone in the room, Mac didn't flinch. He leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "James, some things are best left alone."
Without hesitating, I snapped, "I'll be the judge of that!"
"James, let it go. We've got him. He's never getting out of prison. Connecting him to a murder in Snohomish County could blow his plea bargain out of the water. Don't you think it's time for you to move on?"
Mac released a long, thoughtful breath. "James, this is still an ongoing investigation. I shouldn't even be talking to you."
I wasn't interested in hearing Mac's speech on politically correct police procedures. My frustration was quickly turning into anger. "You just don't get it do you? Dad didn't wake up one day and say, 'Gee, I think I'll go out and kill someone'. I need to know what made him into the monster he is. I don't need you, Mr. Hurley, Mom, or Aunt Em protecting me from the truth."
I didn't give Mack a chance to respond. "The choice is yours. But, one way or another, with or without you, I am going to get the answers."
To my surprise, Mac smiled. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, James."
* * * * *
Casual conversation was not my forte. Years of experience gave Mac his own special way of getting people to relax and open up to him. It was suddenly very clear that tonight he was the teacher and I was the student.
Always the consummate professional, Mac spoke in a noticeably precise tone, choosing each word carefully. "Tell me exactly what you know about your dad's childhood. Don't leave anything out."
"That's the problem, I don't know anything."
Mac repeated the question.
"What little I know is mostly hearsay; conversations I've overheard between Mom and Dad, stuff like that."
"Fine, tell me what you think you know."
"Grandma and Grandpa owned a small farm in rural Bellingham where Dad and his older sister grew up. Apparently Grandpa kept to himself, ruled the family with a heavy hand, and a big stick. Grandma died when Dad was still very young and his sister raised him. I guess Dad was a pretty good student and earned a scholarship to Washington State University where he met Mom. They got married, moved to Seattle, and from what I know, he never went back to Bellingham, not even when his dad died. I know nothing about my Aunt. I don't even know her name."
"Didn't you find it odd that your dad never talked about his family? Weren't you curious?"
I tried not to laugh. "It's one of those you had to be there to understand situations. When you grow up in a family with a father that makes all the rules and controls the amount of air you breathe, you'd be surprised how you accept the odd as normal. Of course I was curious but curiosity was something we learned at a very young age to keep in check."
Realizing again that my entire life was based on a lie, I paused to catch my breath. I suddenly felt tears well up in my eyes thinking about Mom. Knowing she was the product of more than twenty-years of meticulous brain washing caused me to wonder if I would ever know the person she was before Dad got hold of her.
I wiped the tears from my face, took a sip of cold coffee, and then said, "Okay, Mac, now it's your turn. Tell me what YOU know."
 Recognized |
|
James Mathews is not your typical eighteen-year-old boy. He has an IQ of 190 that not only makes him smarter than most adults he knows, it makes developing friends his own age next to impossible. His photographic memory has turned him into a walking, talking library. Waking one day to discover his father is the infamous Belltown Killer, turns James's life into a living hell. He reluctantly becomes friends with Mac, the lead Detective on the case. Together, they discover more unsolved murders and James is faced with the choice of continuing his search for the truth, or simply turning a blind eye.
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