Nicholas shook his head. “They’ll have told him he has visitors from his list but not who.”
We entered a room that looked a lot like the cafeteria at my old high school, which seemed appropriate. It had a similar smell, too: staleness and watered down bleach. The room was filled with tables and chairs where men in blue clothes sat with their family members as bored guards watched from the perimeter. Nicholas surveyed the room before heading toward a table in the back corner. I followed behind him.
“Nicholas!” A man stood up from his chair and hugged him.
“Hey, Dad,” Nicholas said.
Robert Tate looked mostly the same as I remembered him from the home movies. Tall and handsome, with sharply defined features that Nicholas had inherited. The salt-and-pepper hair at his temples was quite a bit saltier, though, and he’d grown a beard that made him look about ten years older than he really was.
As he hugged Nicholas, Robert’s eyes landed on me.
At first his expression didn’t change. I don’t even think he really saw me. But as I looked back at him, he realized I wasn’t some other inmate’s kid, and his face changed in slow motion. His brows furrowed in confusion, then his eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. Realization, shock. Then a darkening of his expression. Doubt.
His arms dropped from around Nicholas, and he looked back and forth between us.
“Is . . . is that . . .”
Nicholas nodded. Robert still looked confused. He took a halting step toward me.
“Daniel?” he breathed.
“Hi, Dad,” I said.
He stared at me, shook his head, and took another step forward. The frown lines in his face deepened. He reached out his arms and pulled me to him, crushing me in a tight hug, releasing a sound that was a combination of a laugh, a sob, and a punch to the gut. He rocked me back and forth, saying “Danny, oh my God, Danny” over and over under his breath.
If it was an act, it was a damn good one.
The hug lasted a long time, maybe longer than any I’d ever received, and Robert only let go of me by degrees. Pulling away to look at my face but keeping his arms around me. Separating his body from mine but keeping his hands on my arms. Sitting down across from me, but keeping my hands in his. All the time staring at me like I was some puzzling but miraculous creature.
“I’m so happy you’re here,” he said. His eyes were pink and shiny. “Your sister told me you weren’t ready to come out here yet, so I was trying to be patient, but the waiting was killing me. My boy.” He put his hands on my face, just staring into my eyes, and then he bowed his head and rubbed his beard. When he spoke again, his voice was rough with unshed tears. “I never gave up hope, and now—” He abruptly started to cry.
Nicholas and I looked at each other as Robert covered his eyes with one hand, the other still holding tight to mine. Robert obviously wasn’t a part of the scheme to hide Danny’s death. His joy and grief were palpable, so pointed and piercing that I shriveled a little inside. It was a cruel thing I had done to this family. This wasn’t an act; Robert had no idea his son was dead.
I was disappointed. Nicholas looked relieved.
“It’s okay, Dad,” Nicholas said. “Everything’s going to be fine, okay?”
Robert took a few deep breaths to compose himself. He gave us a sheepish smile and murmured an apology. Then he asked, “How’s your little sister? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“We ditched school,” Nicholas said. “Danny wanted to come, and we didn’t want to wait.”
Robert reached for my face. “Just let me take another look at you.”
He held my jaw in his hands and ran his eyes over every inch of my face. He stared at me, Nicolas stared at him, and I tried to hold Robert’s eye and not to stare down at the table. I guess I did a decent job, because I saw the moment he started to truly see. To recognize all the things about me that weren’t quite right. Weren’t quite Danny.
Nicholas saw it too. “So, Dad,” he said. “How’s the joint treating you?”
It distracted Robert enough. He dropped his hands and turned to Nicholas.
“Not too bad, I guess,” he said. He poked Nicholas in the side with his finger. “Haven’t been shivved yet, at least.”
Nicholas rolled his eyes, but there was an upward curve to his lips. Robert turned back to me, took my hand again on top of the table.
“So, you’re back in school?” he asked, the faintest note of disbelief in his voice.
“Yeah, but I don’t do any work,” I said. “I just go and sit in on classes.”
He nodded and frowned at the same time. “What about you, Nicky? Excited for next year?”
I snorted. It was always a little surprising when Nicholas managed to make it through a day at Calabasas High without setting the place on fire.
Nicholas shifted beside me. “Dad, I—”
“When do you find out where you’re living?” Robert continued.
I frowned. “Huh?”
“We can talk about it later, Dad,” Nicholas said. “Have I told you about the play Mia is writing?”
Robert didn’t appear to notice the awkward dodge. His face turned instantly wistful at the mention of Mia. I wondered if he was always this expressive or if it was something about prison. Like he was trying to squeeze every emotion he could into these short, infrequent visits. “No. She’s doing well?”
Nicholas nodded. “Yeah, great. She’s been practically living in the pool lately, and she gets the brace off in a couple of weeks.”
“You know, I never asked because I know I should know,” I said, “but is Mia’s condition genetic?”
Nicholas snapped his head around to look at me. I knew I was taking a risk by pissing him off, but I needed to know what Robert knew. I needed to know if he had a motive to kill Danny, and Nicholas believed in his dad too much to push him.
“No, no,” Robert said. “It just happens sometimes.”
“So no one on your side of the family ever had it?” I asked.
Robert’s lips thinned just a little. “No. It’s nothing like that.”
Nicholas veered the conversation away again, and when Robert was momentarily distracted by an argument that broke out at the next table over, he shot me a hard look. I didn’t care. I’d found out what I needed to.
When the visiting period was over, Robert hugged me again and told me how happy he was to see me. That he loved me. Then he asked to speak privately to Nicholas for a moment. I nodded and left the two of them alone, walking back to the lobby of the prison by myself. Nicholas followed a couple of minutes later.
“So?” I asked as we walked back to his car.
“He wants to believe it’s you,” he said, “but he’s suspicious. He can’t be in on this.”
I nodded. It was what I suspected, but God, everything would be so much easier if Robert had been the one who’d killed Danny. “I think you’re right.”
“Yeah. I knew it.” Nicholas’s obvious relief gave way to irritation. “And hey, I told you I would deal with the Mia thing.”