“We didn’t mean to upset you, Mr. Watkins.” Hauck put his drink down. “If there’s nothing you can tell us, we’ll be on our way. If there was something, we just thought it would have been something you’d want to know.”
Watkins nodded, running his index finger across his thin dry lips. “You see that boy over there …?” He motioned toward his younger son, Nick. Big-shouldered, boyish face, short-cropped hair, pumped-out chest. “He’s got a scholarship to the Cowboys in the fall. CSU. He plays linebacker. Captain of his team. They won the league championships the past two years …”
“Good for him,” Hauck said, impressed. “I played in college myself. Running back. Though not quite Division One.”
“And where was that?”
“A small college in Maine called Bates. Division Three.”
“All the same, you know what kind of commitment it takes. Nice as a choirboy, that kid, when it comes to people and schooling. But put him on the field and he turns into something else. You mentioned the kind of life we lead here, and you’re right, it tests even the toughest of souls. I inherited this farm. Lord knows why anyone would want it now. But that boy’s got his whole life ahead of him. And my daughter, Kelli, I mentioned, she’s engaged. To a young professor at the college in Greeley. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, too. Life around here, it beats you down in more ways than you can count. More ways than some math professor could conjure …” His gaze grew distant, fixed on no one in particular.
Then he turned back to Hauck. “My son was always one gust of wind or one loose snowdrift away from where we are today, Mr. Hauck. I knew it. Everyone in this room, if they were honest, knew it, too. He dropped out of school, lived his life the way he wanted, doing all those crazy things. It was selfish. Especially to that pretty young girl in there.” He looked at his grandson. “And that kid. So don’t come here and tell me my son died from anything other than his own recklessness or indifference unless you have something real solid to back it up with. He was gone ten years. I don’t know who he knew and who he didn’t. I knew he loved that river, though, and that mountain. I’m just not sure if they loved him back as much. And I think that’s how I’m prepared to remember him, if it’s all the same. You want to come here and bring stuff like that out, Adrian or whatever his name was, I don’t care what your background is, Mr. Hauck, you better back it up with fact.”
Hauck saw Dani and Allie come out of the bedroom. “Thank you for the drink, sir. I’m sorry for your loss. We’ll be on our way.”
“It’s been nice to talk with you, Mr. Hauck.” He held out his hand. “And in case I don’t see you tomorrow at Trey’s service …” Watkins’s grip was firm, and his meaning clear. “I appreciate the long drive up here and I’ll understand.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Back in the car, Hauck asked Dani if Allie had anything to add, as they turned on the main road, heading back toward town.
She shook her head. “At least, not about Adrian. She’d never even heard of him. What about Trey’s dad?”
“The same. Nor was he exactly pleased to even be discussing the subject.”
“Allie said all this talk about if Trey was involved in something was starting to worry her a bit …”
“I can understand. And I’m afraid that’s still all it is right now, Dani. Talk.” He got back on the country road in the direction of Templeton. He knew he’d upset Watkins, a day before his son’s funeral. At some point soon they’d have to make a decision on what to do. It was 5:30 P.M. If they just continued on home they could probably get there by ten or eleven with nothing to show for it.
“So where are we heading?” Dani asked.
“Into town. I could use a coffee,” Hauck said. “What about you?”
She grinned. “You think there’s a Starbucks there?”
“About the same chance we find a Williams-Sonoma.” He slowed behind a pickup with a horse trailer attached. “We’ll find something there and decide.”
“Decide what?” Dani looked at him.
“Whether to go back tonight or not.”
Chuck Watkins had shut things down pretty firmly. He also seemed to have written off his son … Trey was gone ten years. I don’t know who he knew or what he did. He seemed a hard man and not fully understanding. And he clearly saved whatever he had inside for his two remaining kids.
“Uncle Ty, I want to go to the funeral tomorrow.” Dani turned to him. “It’s at ten A.M. Even if we go back we can still leave by noon and be back by five. Okay …?”
“We’ll see.”
“Uncle Ty, c’mon … It’s only one night.”
“It’s not the night. It’s that we don’t really belong here, stirring things up. At least I don’t.”
“But I do,” Dani said. “I belong here.”
“I said we’ll see.” Her eyes looked a bit surprised at his tone. Maybe he had come off a shade sterner than he intended. “You knew the rules,” he said, trying to sound a bit more conciliatory. “Trey hadn’t been here in years and we still don’t have any connection between him and Adrian. We don’t even know anything about Adrian …”
“We have an address.”
Hauck looked at her.
“On the car registration, there’s an address. In Greeley. Tuttle Road, right …?”
“Yeah, we have an address,” he agreed begrudgingly. He continued on and they didn’t talk for a while.
Finally Dani turned toward him. “Aren’t you just the slightest bit interested?”
“I’m interested.” He was interested in how Adrian wasn’t Adrian, but someone who had taken his name. Which likely meant he knew him from somewhere. And it also meant he was someone who didn’t want to be found. Hauck thought he was also interested in the odds of both Adrian and Trey being connected to this same area. He was interested in how Watkins had completely shut him down. “Question?” he said.
“What?”
“Which one of us is the internationally known detective here, anyway?” He winked at her.