Found Money - James Grippando [85]
He fumbled for his wire clippers, saying nothing.
“Dad, you’re hurting Mom’s feelings.”
He paused. It was the most serious pause Ryan had ever seen in his father. Ryan was just eighteen years old and ready for college, trying to decide what to do about Liz, his high school sweetheart. Maybe his dad had sensed it was about time for some advice.
His father pointed at the wires dangling over his head. “See these?” he said from atop the ladder. “One of them’s hot. Could even kill a man.”
“Dad, be careful. Let me shut off the circuit breaker.”
“Ah, don’t worry. Let’s just see what happens if I grab one.”
“Dad, no!”
He grabbed it. “Nothing,” he said, releasing it.
“But what do you think will happen if I grab this other one?”
“Dad, stop playing around.”
“What will happen, Ryan? What did I used to tell you, back when you wanted to be an electrician like your dad, rather than a college boy?”
“Dad, please just come down.”
He smiled devilishly—then grabbed the wire.
“Dad!”
His father laughed. Nothing happened.
“Damn it! You scared the crap out of me. You said it was live.”
“It is. But I’m standing on a fiberglass ladder. I’m not grounded. If you’re not grounded, you can grab all the live wires you want. Understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I get your point.”
“Make sure you do, son. That Liz is a nice girl. But think ahead. Think twenty-five years ahead. Once you’re grounded, that’s it. No more wires.”
Twenty years later, the analogy seemed just as crude—women as hot wires. But it was about as deep as Frank Duffy ever got. And now, with the rape come to light, it told Ryan much about the way his father felt about his own life choices, the decision to marry right out of high school and devote himself to one woman. It shed light on an even earlier conversation, when he and Ryan were admiring the mountains in the distance, when he’d told Ryan it wasn’t his fault they were stuck in Piedmont Springs. His mother was the one with roots so deep she would never move away. Five generations of family history in Piedmont Springs. Because of that, they were all trapped here.
It was a grim excuse for living where they lived, as if his dad had banished himself to life on the plains. A man with one woman in an isolated world, where temptations were few. It was a sentence of sorts. A self-inflicted punishment for one who had eluded formal judgment.
In the abstract, it seemed like a crazy notion. But now that Ryan was older and had made mistakes himself, he could relate. A real man had no tougher judge than himself. Like father, like son. But with one important distinction.
Ryan knew his father’s sin. His father would never know Ryan’s.
The waitress brought the bill. He paid quickly, then walked to the back of the bar near the rest rooms and stopped at the pay phones. He dialed Norm at home, getting right to Amy.
“How’d it go?” asked Norm.
“Better than expected. At least she didn’t throw her scalding hot coffee in my face.”
“That bad?”
“That bad.”
“You want to talk about it?”
A young woman smiled at him on her way to the rest room. Ryan looked away. “Not right this second. Maybe in the morning. I think I’m going to spend the night at your place again, if that’s all right.”
“Sure. I’ll wait up.”
“See you in a few,” he said, then hung up the phone.
From the doughnut shop across the street, she watched as Ryan Duffy emerged from the Half-way Café. She wore blue jeans, a baggy Denver Broncos sweatshirt, and a shoulder-length blonde wig instead of the long black one. Her look was more like that of a college student than the businesswoman she’d played at the hotel in Panama City. It was unlikely that she’d be recognized. Still, she took pains not to flaunt her attractive face, peering over the top of the magazine.
Her eyes followed Ryan as he headed down the sidewalk and crossed the street. She rose from a table by the window, prepared to move in. She stopped in the doorway. The dark sedan at the corner was suddenly coming to life. The engine started. The