A few seconds later, a photo comes through. It’s one of those cute, floppy brown dogs with lots of curls. A Doodle?
Mom
He’s called Bongo, and he loves cuddles
I drop my phone on the desk. It’s just a cute puppy, but the way my heart lurches because my mom is texting me and sending me photos — even though it’s been a month since we caught up — has me tearing up again. What the hell is up with me?
I need to tell her about Haze. She was never against us, not like Dad was. I suspect she was on his side because of the power he had over all of us, and for that I don’t blame her. I knowall about Dad’s emotional warfare, and I wouldn’t wish it upon anyone.
I pick up my phone, not wanting to ghost her because I’m having an emotional hiccup day.
Me
Maybe he could join FaceTime too? I’ve so much to tell you
I need my mom. I’ve needed her for a long time, and it’s taken me to this moment to finally realize that I can be the one to get the ball rolling. Life is too short, and I don’t want to waste any more days wondering what if?
It sucks that I’ve had to kick Dad out of mine to really understand that, but it’s like a burden has been lifted. I don’t need his approval. I don’t need anything from him.
What I do need is to talk to my husband, and a well-earned glass of wine.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Haze
“Holy shit,” I say. “So the son of a bitch was alive all that time.”
“It appears so. He also had a bunch of aliases and had a dozen name changes over the years, so I haven’t quite figured out yet if he has any family members in the area,” she goes on. “But I thought you might like to know that this son of a gun is six feet under, so he can’t be your guy.”
“I guess death kinda does rule that out.”
“Yep. Weird that the letters were almost identical to that of his father.”
“That’s what has me worried,” I admit. “But then again, lots of sickos use that kind of scare tactic, or it could be a copycat. There’s some weirdos out there.”
“That’s true. He was also wanted for questioning on a string of homicides. Seems like he left a wake of dead bodies from the Big Easy all the way to fucking Alabama. Son of a bitch had a calling card.”
“Sounds about right. Least he’s six feet under and can’t do any more damage.”
“He also kept a low profile,” she says. “He was pretty good at staying out of the spotlight, which leads me to believe he would’ve known people in low places. He was one of the main orchestrators of that gang a few years back and almost got it off the ground.”
“With help from the Skeletons,” I mutter. “Not that we need to rehash that.”
“Well, I’ll keep digging. He must have some family members. If that’s the case, I can do a deep dive into them as well.”
“Thanks, Star, I appreciate it.” My phone chimes and I glance down. Sawyer’s name appears on the screen. I hold a finger up. “One sec, it’s Sawyer.”
She nods.
“Yo, H,” Sawyer says. “Found somethin’ interestin’ you might wanna come take a look at.”
I frown. “Can’t you just tell me?”
“Well, I could, but it’s surveillance, and I don’t know exactly what I’m lookin’ at.”
“And I do?”
