I have seen my father cry, but I just don’t know when.
“Something like that.”
His vague answer made her mouth dry up and her skin feel like someone had just burned it.
She slipped past her father without a word and grabbed her rental car keys off the kitchen counter. Before she drove off she snatched a glance at the house. Her father was watching her through the picture window in the living room. His face carried a look that not only couldn’t she decipher, she didn’t want to.
A cup of coffee from a Dunkin’ Donuts in hand, she drove the streets of the Nashville suburb where her parents had built their retirement dream home with financial help from their five kids. Michelle was the only unmarried and childless one, so she had contributed disproportionately to the cause, but never regretted it. Raising a large family on a cop’s salary was no easy thing, and her parents had sacrificed much for them. She had no problem paying that debt back.
She pulled out her phone and called her eldest brother. She didn’t even let him get the hello all the way out before she pounced.
“Bill, why the hell didn’t you tell me about the blood in the garage?”
“What?”
“The blood on the damn garage floor!”
“She hit her head when she fell down.”
“Hit her head on what?”
“Probably the car.”
“You’re sure about that? Because there wasn’t a mark on the car that I could see.”
“Mik, what the hell are you suggesting?”
“Are they doing an autopsy?”
“What?”
“An autopsy!”
“I… I don’t know that for sure. I mean, I suppose they might have to,” he added uncomfortably.
“And you didn’t mention this to me when you called because why?”
“What would have been the point? They’ll do the autopsy and we’ll find out she had a stroke or a heart attack or something like that. She fell, hit her head.”
“Yeah, the head again. Did the police come?”
“Of course. And the ambulance. They were here when I got here.”
“Which of you four were there first?”
Michelle thought she knew the answer. Her brother Bobby was a police sergeant in the town where their parents lived. She listened to a mumbled conversation as Bill apparently consulted with his brothers.
He came back on. “Dad called Bobby and he was here like within ten minutes even though he lives on the other side of town.”
“Great. Put Bobby on!”
“Jesus, what the hell are you getting so pissed off—”
“Put him on, Bill!”
Bobby’s voice came on a few moments later. “Mik, what is up with you?” he began sternly.
“Dad called you. You came over. Were you on duty?”