"Can you please call your dad and ask him if he remembers any new employees from around the time my dad was killed?"
The request obviously takes Claudette by surprise. "Umm," she blinks hard. "Sure. But, Hugo, how do I explain this to him?" Claudette's eyes flicker to me, like maybe I'm the reason for all this.
Hugo squeezes my hand. "Tell him Simon's son waited too long."
Claudette takes her phone from her purse. She taps on the screen a few times, and then a ringing sound fills the air.
A man answers. "Hey, hon."
"Dad, hi. Listen, I have a question for you, and I know you're not expecting it." She glances at Hugo. "Like, at all. I have Hugo in my office, and he would like to know if you remember any new employees from around the time Simon was killed."
"Hugo? Hello there."
"Mr. Esteban, it's nice to hear your voice."
"Likewise, son. You have a question about employees?"
"Recently I came into possession of the police file from my dad's murder investigation. There's a list of Summerhill employees who were interviewed, but?—"
"All of them," he interjects.
"Excuse me?" Hugo says.
"All of the employees were interviewed. Every single one. Myself included."
"Mr. Esteban, I'd like to know if there were any newer employees around that time period. Anybody who might not have been included on an employee list. Someone who maybe wasn't in the system yet?"
"Hugo, I wish I could give you the answer you're seeking, but it's been a really long time. Everything I told the police back then is still true today. I didn't leave anything out. I'm the one who gave them the names of every Summerhill employee. Even the guy who kept coming around trying to buy a parcel of Summerhill land. Every name, I gave it to them."
"That must be the redacted name," I whisper, and Hugo nods.
"Do you remember his name?"
"Well, I, uh..." A few seconds pass. "I'm sorry, I don't. It's been so long."
"That's ok, Mr. Esteban. It doesn't sound like he was all that important anyhow."
"I don't think he was," the old man says. "Wasn't around much, or for long."
Hugo's nodding, looking at Claudette to let her know he's done. "Thanks for your time, sir. We'd love to see you sometime."
"Love you, Dad. I'll see you and Mom for dinner tomorrow." Claudette waits for her dad to respond, then hangs up. "I'm sorry that wasn't more fruitful," she says to Hugo.
"Thanks for giving him a call. I know it's one of his least favorite subjects."
Claudette taps her desk with the side of her thumb. "It's one of everybody's least favorite subjects. The whole town loved your dad."
If the whole town loved Simon, why would somebody kill him?
It's this question that sticks with me when we leave the Summerhill office. Stays with me as Hugo and I make dinner that evening. Pokes at me when we lie on the porch bed and star gaze.
Hugo is far away, too, in some distant land in his mind. He chopped green onions with a look like he was a thousand miles away. Kissed me with restraint. For the first night since I can remember, his hands did not stray when we laid down in bed.
I fall asleep safe in Hugo's arms, only to be awakened later by his pained whispers.
"It's him." His voice is strained.
"Hugo?" I run a gentle hand over his shoulder. He's still sleeping. Still dreaming.
