“This Cole kid?”
“He’s dead.”
“You knew that before the cops told you?” I nod. “What else do you know?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Because I’m a father interested in what his daughter is interested in. God, I know you’re not inviting me to a volleyball game.” I snort a laugh. Yeah, sports were never my thing.
“All right,” I say and fill him in on some of what Bam and I know while he cooks breakfast. Dad sets three plates down on the table when he’s done.
“The kid is looming outside. Tell him to get in here and eat.” My dad finally relents.
“Dad!” I smile, jumping up from my chair. He pulls me in for a tight hug. “I want you to like him. He really does look after me and pushes back when he thinks I’m stepping too far.” I try to plead Bam’s case. “I was already poking into this. He pushed himself into all of this because he was worried about what I might get into. He also monitors my blood sugar. Saved me one day,” I add in for good measure.
“I made the kid a plate.” I take that as a good sign. It’s my dad’s equivalent of saying he doesn’t hate Bam.
“Okay, I’ll go get him.” I start to head toward the front door and pause. “He’s alone. No family left.”
“I hear what you’re saying.”
With that, I head out the front door to see where Bam is lingering. It doesn’t take long at all for him to pop up the second I’m outside.
“Come inside.” I wave him toward me, though he is already coming. “Dad already busted me on it being Saturday. He made breakfast.”
“And he wants me to come?” Bam’s expression turns skeptical.
“Yes, he made you a plate and everything. Told me to go get you. I filled him in a little.” I take Bam’s hand and lead him back into the house. He gives my dad a nod when we enter the kitchen area. “Sit.” I point to one of the chairs. Bam drops down into it. I get everyone something to drink. “Not everyone talk all at once,” I tease.
“I was thinking,” Dad starts. “You don’t find it strange that Cole’s father took so long to report him missing? You said hewas already convinced he was dead?” Dad is shaking his head. “I don’t get that. Kid’s on the basketball team, so his grades have got to be somewhat decent, right?”
“Yes,” I say, sitting down in my chair.
“He’s not a kid that’s been skipping school.”
“No, you can’t do that either and stay on the team.”
“Does the dad go to his games?”
“I don’t know, but I did see he had Cole’s trophies and stuff out on display.”
“So he’s proud of him.”
“He seemed genuinely upset.”
“That all doesn’t add up. If my kid was missing for a few days, the last thing out of my mouth is going to be saying they’re dead. I wouldn’t want to speak it into existence. Not a fucking chance. I’d be grasping for anything and everything. Doing whatever I could to get information. I’d be so far up those detectives’ asses.” I hadn’t thought that much about it.
“What are you saying?”
“It doesn’t add up,” Bam answers, his brows pulling together. “But he was really interested in whatweknow and about us. He was paying close attention.”
“You really think Cole’s dad is involved?”
“I didn’t say that.” Dad picks up his fork. “I’m just saying it sounds off.”
“That there’s more to the story with him,” I add. Dad nods.
“Now that you’ve had some food for thought…” Bam pushes my plate closer to me. “Eat up, rebel.”
