When I walk out to my car, I see a folded-up paper stuck under my windshield wiper. I can tell immediately from how tightly it’s folded that it isn’t a flyer and I sigh. Great. These kinds of secret messages are always super friendly.
Even bracing myself, my shoulders cave in a bit as I carefully open up the paper. I’m so tired of being surrounded by this kind of crap all the time. My eyes go first to the dark lines in a drawing at the bottom of the page. I can’t make it out at first, but when I realize I have it upside down I feel a little sick.
As I turn it over, the details become clear. At the top now is a drawing of a man in an electric chair. Jolts of electricity zing through his body and his eyes bug out of his face. This isn’t even the worst thing I’ve seen, but the timing makes me furious. Then I finally look down at the bottom half of the page and growl under my breath as I study it.
This one is much more direct. It’s me this time—a common theme; I’m his daughter so obviously I should be punished, too—my brown hair is stringy around the caricature depiction of my face, a hangman’s noose tight around my throat.
Crumpling it up, I look at the houses in the neighborhood around us. I think I spot the movement of a curtain or two, but nothing I can be sure of. Mama usually tries to watch out for them first and get rid of them before I see.
But this one was left on my car, with my picture on it—being hanged.
This one feels personal. I stick it in my jacket pocket, send a heated glare for a moment at each house in sight, then get in my car and drive away.
*
I only make it three blocks before I come up with a plan.
I still want to go see Daddy, but this time, I’ll take Jordan with me. It had been Jordan’s idea to come with me to see Mr. Masters, but maybe he’d been onto something.
After all, I am only abiding by one of the universal truths that Daddy taught me about chess—get your opponent off balance with an unanticipated move and you’ll force them to backpedal and change their plan. Push them out of their comfort zone and you can control the game.
Daddy is obviously more deceitful than I’ve ever given him credit for. Knocking him off his game may be the exact thing I need to do to get a closer look at the truth.
Now I just need to convince Jordan to go along with my plans.
I call him on the Bluetooth Mr. Masters had installed in my car while turning around to head toward his house. He answers on the first ring. “Hi. Just a second.” Then I hear the sound of him walking and a door closing behind him.
“Your dad is home?” I ask, hoping this won’t get in the way of what I want to do.
“Yep,” he says, but his tone is much more relaxed now than it was before.
“Feel like escaping for a couple of hours right now?”
I can hear the smile in his voice when he answers. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” I hesitate to explain where we’re going, but I decide that springing our destination on him later might not be the best of ideas. “I think you should come with me—for a visit.”
When he is silent for a few seconds, I know I don’t need to explain further. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. So I move straight into the next step, convincing him that it’s a good idea. “Maybe we can surprise him. Shock him enough that he might reveal something he hasn’t before.”
I deliberately don’t clarify that I’m hoping he’ll be honest about his affairs and maybe finally reveal his true alibi. I’m hoping he won’t give me any more information that could indicate his guilt. God knows I’ve seen enough of that already.
Jordan still hasn’t spoken, and I worry he might be upset at me for even suggesting this.
“Jordan?” I speak his name quietly, kicking myself for not having this conversation in person so I could see his reaction and read the emotion in his eyes.
“I’m in,” he answers so quickly and quietly now that I’m not certain I heard him right.
“You are?” Considering the situation, it seems smart to doublecheck.
“Yes. Don’t sound so surprised. I just hope it goes the way you think it will. My dad is heading my way. Where should I meet you?”
“The park.” I can’t help but feel like this conversation is ending too quickly. I feel like there is more I should say, but I don’t have a chance now. “I’ll be waiting. Come as soon as you can.”
“See you soon.” And his end of the line goes dead.
*
I’m at the park within ten minutes. I park at the end of the lot, then close my eyes and rest my head against the steering wheel. I know this is a terribly risky idea. Ever since the phone call with Jordan, I feel like this whole scenario could be one giant mistake. What if Daddy gets furious at me for even bringing Jordan and refuses to talk to us? What if this is one of the last times I get to see him and it goes horribly wrong? What if Daddy says something to Jordan and Jordan decides I’m not worth the baggage that I come with? What if—
Rap—Rap—Rap—