that I got to believing it myself. When I told you before, it just came out, and it didn’t seem to make a difference.”
“What really happened to him?”
“What do you think? He ran off.”
“Why would Tiffany know what he looks like?”
“I got pictures. My mom, like I was sayin’, she liked to make believe he was dead. And I went along, but before she burned all the pictures, I grabbed some.”
“Tiffany saw them.”
“When we were growing up. It was like a big secret.”
“So she’s never seen him in person.”
“Nah.”
“And those pictures are what? Thirty years old?”
“Something like that.”
Logan didn’t say anything.
“I get it,” Johnny said. “You’re thinking, how would she know him?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I don’t know,” he said. “But, Mister Logan—“
“Just Logan.”
“Logan. Will you help me find out?”
Almost always, he worked alone. But there was something about this kid. He was kind of pathetic, but the way he loved his sister…
“I will, Johnny.”
He started the car. Then he turned it off. He needed a destination.
“When was the last time you heard from your father?”
“Long time ago. I was a kid.”
“How?”
“He called one night, and my mom wasn’t there, so she couldn’t hang up on him like she always did.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t remember much. I just remember that he said someday he’d make it all up to me. You know, stuff like that. Stuff that doesn’t mean anything because you know it’ll never happen. But, I mean, this was like fifteen years ago. Sometimes I can’t even remember what happened last week.”
“Give it a few years. It gets worse. Have you heard anything about him since then?”
“Yeah. Every couple of years my uncle says something.”
“Your uncle.”
“My uncle Frank. He’s my dad’s brother. I see him once in a while. Talk to him a couple times a year.”
“When was the last?”
“Two, maybe three months ago. He wanted to know if I wanted to go fishing with him.”
“Did you?”
“Hell, no. Fishing’s dumb. You want fish, you go to Long John Silver’s or something.”
“When was the last time he mentioned your father?”
“Couple years ago, I think. Yeah, it was right after I got out of Folsom. He said … what did he say … something about where he was working. Something about the docks, maybe?”
“You’re asking me?”
“I’m sorry. I really am. But I don’t remember.”
“Where does your uncle live?”
“Down in Orange County.”
“Where?”
“Fullerton, I think, or Costa Mesa? One of those places that is kind of near Disneyland. But not Anaheim. I would remember Anaheim. On account of Disneyland.”
“You think you could find him?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to go see him.”
“Why are we gonna do that?”
Logan said nothing.
Johnny got it. “You think he knows where my father is?”
“Good a move as any.”
Johnny scrunched up his face. He closed his eyes. They popped open. “There was a restaurant on the corner. There was a big sign. One of those covered wagons.”
“That’s something to go on. Let’s go.”
“Mister Lo—sorry. Just Logan. Why are you doing this for me?”
“I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for your sister.”
“But, I mean, you don’t know her. Why do you want to help her?”
Logan thought about telling Johnny some of the story. How he’d semi-accidentally tracked down a rapist when he was in grad school. And slit the guy’s throat. And hated all the blood and the mess but really liked ridding the world of someone it was best free of. And how everything grew from that.
He thought about it, and then he said, “I look out for people.”
“Man,” Johnny said. He ceremoniously fastened his seatbelt. Pulled on it to make sure it was secure. Said, “Let’s go to OC, then.”
“In a minute. I want to check something.”
Logan pulled out his phone. Clicked around a bit. Found the phone number for the Rite-On drugstore in Pacoima. Also found out it was open twenty-four hours.
He dialed it and drilled down through the menus until he got a live person. A woman. “Tony there?”
“Who?”
“Tony.”
“Oh. Right. On the day shift.”
“What time does that start?”
“At eight.”
Logan glanced at his watch. Six hours plus. “Okay, thanks.”
“Have a nice day,” the woman said and clicked off.
Johnny had his head cocked like a golden retriever. “There’s a Tony there too?”
“Appears to be.”
“Well, shit. I didn’t think of that. That there could be two Tonys.”
“At least.”
“Jeez. I suppose the one she works with
