Page 115 of The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The Second Collection
“Two more months.”
I curse under my breath.
Fred shrugs again. “Better than jail, I guess.”
I nod, unwilling to imagine what might happen to this broken man in prison.
“When you get it off, what will you do?”
Fred lets out a tired sigh. “Dunnow.”
“Anything else you remember about the day Nicky died?” I ask.
He shakes his head.
I run quickly through the legalities before I turn off the camera, pack up my little folding tripod, and put everything in my bag.
I lean across the table. “Fred, you can tell me to fuck off, but as soon as that anklet comes off, leave this fucking place. Take the first flight to Spain, find your daughter, and find some way to be part of her life again.”
He looks at me, his mouth falling open slightly. “Wha?—?”
“Miranda doesn’t love you. I don’t think she loves anyone. She’s not coming back. Don’t wait for her. Stop letting her ruin your life.”
His mouth works but no sound comes out.
“You have a daughter. Don’t abandon her. She’ll forgive you even if your ex never does. Kids just want their parents to love them. They’ll forgive you practically anything, but you gotta be around to be forgiven. Go find your kid.”
The faint spark in his eyes becomes a sheen. He looks away. “You got kids?”
“Not yet. I was that kid. I know how it feels. I’d have forgiven my dad anything if he’d wanted to be part of my life. Neither he nor my Ma ever gave me that chance. Don’t deprive your daughter of her father.”
“I don’t-I don’t have much to give her,” he mumbles.
“Just being there is a start,” I insist. “You’re giving her nothing if you’re gone.”
“Shell hates me. She won’t let me near Jennie.”
“How long did you chase after Miranda, trying to get an answer out of her?”
The faintest color rises in Fred’s gray cheeks. “More’n a year.”
“Give your daughter the same time. It’s the very fucking least she deserves.”
Fred swallows, his prominent Adam’s apple working. “I don’t know what to say.”
I pull out one of my business cards, which just has my name and a cell number I don’t mind people having and slide it across the table at him. “In a year, send me a thumbs up or a thumbs down. You don’t have to say anything else. I’ll know.”
His hand shakes as he takes the card and shoves it into the pocket of his jeans.
“I’ll see myself out,” I say, to avoid the inevitable, awkward goodbye.
He shuffles after me to the door anyway. I shake his hand when he offers it, and when he closes the door behind me, I see a faint spark in those watery eyes.
twenty-four
Back at the Blue Chestnut,I encrypt the whole interview, navigate the inn’s creaky wifi, and send it to Logan. I upload everything to our Cloud server overnight, but I want Logan to see this sooner rather than later. De Leon, who was probably shadowing me all day in his creepy-ass way, shows up with fish and chips while I’m working. If I never see another deep-fried fish fillet again after this trip, it’s too soon.
I’m picking batter off my haddock when Logan calls. “Holy shit.”
