Chapter 23

Tuesday morning, as he had been doing since the meeting with Sultan, Bobby ran through different scenarios, doing if-then-else logic like a computer programmer, then he would second-guess his decision. If he knew the who, how, when, and where Bobby thought he might have felt better about letting someone else handle his problem, but probably not. He wanted it to be personal, use his bare hands while looking into John’s eyes, and telling him why it was happening. No, Bobby thought, death is too easy, John should suffer for a long time. But Bobby had a family to consider, and there could be repercussions for Candy and Sally if their brother was accused of killing John. If Bobby were to be convicted and taken away from his family again, even in death, John would have won.

Bobby scanned the yard, street, and driveway as he left the house, paused halfway down the walkway and turned in a circle, then continued to his car. He didn’t like to think someone could suddenly be there without him knowing they were coming. It felt too much like Afghanistan.

If one of the guys from his unit turned up, Bobby didn’t know how he would respond. He had been their leader on the ground, and in the action with them, but each and every one of them were equally responsible for the lives of the others. Every single day might be the day someone died. That made them more than a team. It seemed like they were one life force, if someone died, it killed a part of everyone. Bobby had spent the last several years trying to resurrect those dead pieces of his soul.

Bobby slammed the car door. What if it was one of my guys? Would it disturb them that he was ordering a hit as much as it troubled Bobby that they were doing it?

Darlene nodded while Gloria spoke, but she didn’t agree. “I know, I know, it’s wrong, but what do we really know about her? You’ve only known her like two minutes longer than me.”

“I know,” Gloria said, “it’s weird, but it’s like I’ve always known her, and I love her, and I don’t wanna go snooping.”

“She’s your aunt, looks like your mother, and your mother says they’re sisters, so you would feel that way.”

“She looks more like you,” Gloria said. “Didn’t you feel something? I did when I looked into her eyes the first time. Like it was with you, somehow I knew you were family. Don’t you feel something, or don’t you think she’s your mother? Why would she lie about that?”

Darlene knew everything Gloria was saying was true, and she had felt it. Sally was her mother, but what did that mean? “I just wanna see. You coming or not?”

“Only because you want me to.”

They went down the hall to Sally’s room. Darlene told Gloria to stand close to the door and listen while she looked around. For what? Darlene didn’t know, but she went to the dresser first.

“What are we gonna say if we get caught?” Gloria asked.

“If you listen and tell me before she gets upstairs we won’t have to worry about that.” Darlene lifted a floral spaghetti strap cami top out of the drawer and held it against her body. “This would look good on you.”

“Are we here to look at her underwear?”

“No, but she does have some incredibly sexy stuff.”

“Right,” Gloria said, “and I’m sure she’d let us try it on if we asked. Oh, and it wouldn’t fit. Hurry up.”

“Relax.” Darlene put the shirt back and checked each drawer, finding nothing except clothing. There has to be something that will tell me more about Sally, Darlene thought.

“What’s that?” Gloria asked when Darlene came out of the closet, staring into the box she was carrying.

Darlene sat on the end of the bed without answering. Gloria hurried over and sat beside Darlene. Then they were both staring into the box. Finally, Gloria said, “That must be you,” and pointed at the giant belly of the redheaded girl. “That’s my mom next to Sally, and ... and—God, they’re kids, just kids.”

“Yeah, she is ... so young.” Darlene turned her head and used her shoulder to stop a tear before it left her eye. There hadn’t been any doubt in her mind before, but seeing the picture seared the truth into Darlene’s hard exterior, melting more of the icy contempt she had been holding onto. “She’s my mother.”