Page 39 of Survivor
“Just Taylor. How can I help you?”
“Oh, sorry, my name is Landry and I’m a reporter with the Dallas Morning News. I wanted to see if I might talk to you about the Cold Case Squad reopening the case from 2005 when your parents were killed.” The man looked harmless, but his eyes were dark, vacant. Taylor hesitated for a moment, considering. If the man followed murder cases, talked to witnesses and family members, he probably had to disconnect himself from the atrocities as a way of self-preservation.
“Lord, but I have lost my manners tonight.” Landry held out his hand and Taylor took it, shaking before stepping to the side and waving the man into the apartment. “Wow, something smells good.”
“Yeah, I was just getting dinner ready for my boyfriend. I guess I can answer your questions while I finish this.” Taylor pulled out one of the tall chairs from the table for the man to sit. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, no, I’m good. I won’t take up too much of your time.” Landry leaned on the edge of the chair, both feet on the ground.
Taylor had been chopping green onions to garnish the chili with when Landry knocked on the door. His phone still sat on the counter beside the cutting board, so he ran his finger over the screen and shot a quick text to Frank.
Hey, there’s a reporter here asking questions about the case being reopened. He’s a bit…odd. How long before you’re home?
“What’s it like growing up without your parents, your mother andyour father,Taylor?” Landry asked. His eyes were taking in everything in the apartment, his posture rigid like a cat getting ready to pounce.
Something about the way he saidyour fatherdidn’t sit right with Taylor; there was emphasis on those two words when the rest of the question was spoken almost monotone. His phone was set to silent so it didn’tdingorbuzzwith the incoming message, but he saw the screen light up.
Frankie: Why in the hell are you letting strange men in the house? What reporter, what’s his name, who is he with?
“I, I don’t feel comfortable with that question. If you could just keep it to the basics without talking about my parents, please.” Taylor responded to Frank’s text with one hand, sloppy and uncoordinated.
He said hes with the dallas morning news. Names Landry.
“Of course, my apologies,” The man stood and walked into the living room, looking at the framed pictures on the wall. There were images of him and Frank on the beach, some with their parents and Caleb and Justine in them. “This is a nice place, Taylor, you’ve done good for yourself. Mel would be so pleased.”
The fuck?“Mel, who…”Oh God, oh no.His mother’s real name was Melissa, Mel. His phone lit up again, and Taylor knew what it would say before he glanced down.
Frankie: Taylor, there is no one at DMN named Landry. Your birth father’s middle name is Landry.
His phone lit up again, this time with an incoming call from Frank but before Taylor could answer it, the man was there, slamming the heavy onyx candle holder that Frank kept on the mantle above the fireplace down on it. Taylor stepped back, the knife still in his hand. “Wh…who are you?”
“I told you, my name is Landry. But you can call me Dad.”
