Page 124 of Whistle

Harry thought that was closer to the truth than he wanted to admit. “Please just trust me on this. Look, it was a wonderful thing you did. I love the idea of doing something with Dylan, something we can build or make together. But it can’t be that.”

Janice’s look of anger had shifted to one of bafflement. “I don’t know what the hell is going on with you.”

Harry rubbed his forehead, and dropped his voice lower. “You know that guy I was watching last night?”

She waited.

“It’s that shop owner. Where you bought this.”

Her eyebrows sprang up. “What?”

“Yeah. I’ve been keeping an eye on him. I can’t really say what it’s about.”

Janice was trying to read between the lines. “It’s stolen merchandise, right? Is that what’s going on? The stuff in his shop is hot?”

Harry liked that, and nodded. “Something like that.”

“Shit, I can’t believe I bought stolen goods. He seemed like an okay guy. Oh my God.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone—”

They heard the front door slam. Harry ran, opened the door in time to see Dylan reach the sidewalk, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey!” Harry called out. “Wait up, pal!”

Dylan didn’t look back, kept on walking. Harry ran after him, grabbed him by the shoulder, and turned him around despite his son’s resistance.

“I have to go to school,” he said sullenly.

“Look, I’m sorry about the trains. It’s hard to explain.”

“I understand. You don’t want to do stuff with me. And you made Mom feel like shit.”

Harry took a knee. “I’m going to let you off the hook on using that kind of language this one time. And, yeah, I did make Mom feel bad, and I’m sorry about that. And even sorrier about how I’ve made you feel. The truth is, we can’t have anything from the store where your mom got that. You have to swear to me that you’ll never say a word about this to anyone, but I think the guy who runs that store is a bad man.”

“What did he do?”

Good question.

“I’m working on getting answers to that. Can’t say anything more. But your mom’s right that I haven’t made enough time for you lately,and I’m working on that. Maybe we can do something this weekend. You pick. Whatever you want, that’s what we’ll do.”

Dylan appeared to be thinking. “Pancakes.”

“Pancakes?”

“At the diner.”

Harry smiled. “Saturday morning. Pancakes at the diner. It’s a deal.” He extended a hand and they shook on it.

“Okay, get to school.”

He spun Dylan around, gave him a soft swat on the butt to launch him on his way, and watched his son until he turned the corner.

Harry would never see him again.

Forty-Three

Harry had no intention of taking that set back to Choo-Choo’s for a refund. But he knew he didn’t want Janice doing it. If either of them were to ask for a refund, it might arouse Edwin Nabler’s suspicions. Why, out of all his customers, would the chief be unsatisfied? Were the boxcars broken? Did the transformer not come to life when plugged in? If everything was in perfect working order, why return it?

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