Free Watch Your Back by Karen Rose Page A

Mom, who would be sending me anthrax?’
    She shrugged. ‘You’re a policeman. Maybe you made somebody mad at you.’
    ‘It’s not anthrax,’ he muttered, opening the envelope.
    ‘Isn’t that what I said? So what is it?’
    ‘Let’s find out.’ Carefully he emptied the contents on the table.
    And heard her gasp. There was an old Orioles cap that Sam immediately recognized, and a dozen old, worn-out photos. And sitting on top of the photos was a plain gold wedding band.
    She stood, pale as a ghost, her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes filling with tears. ‘Oh my God,’ she whispered. ‘Sam. Oh dear God.’
    Her hand trembling, she picked up the ring between her thumb and forefinger. ‘It’s his. It’s your father’s. It has his initials inside. I had it engraved the day before our wedding.’
    Sam fanned the photos out on the table. They were either wallet-sized portraits or snapshots cut to be wallet-sized. His parents on their wedding day. A snapshot of Sam and his mom wearing leis, taken by his father on their one and only family vacation to Hawaii. The pictures of Sam were school portraits, all from elementary school.
    When they were still a family. Before his father became a junkie who’d stolen from them, lied to them. Used his fists on them when he needed a fix.
    The only recent photo was the one taken at the police academy, the day Sam had graduated. His father had shown up, shaved and sober. He’d behaved himself and Sam and his mother had once again hoped.
    Six months later his father was using again. And then one day he’d simply disappeared without a trace. Without a word. There had been no contact of any kind . . . until today.
    ‘Why?’ his mother cried. ‘What does this mean?’
    ‘I don’t know, Mom,’ Sam said quietly, but that wasn’t true. He knew exactly what it meant – and suspected she did, too. It meant that his father was dead and may have been for a long time. That someone either just found his stuff or just got around to sending it.
    ‘He had his ring.’ Her voice broke, her shoulders shaking with harsh, heaving sobs. ‘He had his ring all along. I . . . Oh, God, Sam. I accused him of selling it. For his habit. He promised me he hadn’t, but he wasn’t wearing it the last time I saw him.’
    Sam had never been able to stand seeing his mother cry, even though he had a lot of practice doing so, which was just one of the reasons he hated his father so much. Gently he drew her into his arms, patting her back. Wishing he knew what the hell to say.
    How many times had they done this same thing? How many times had he patted her back helplessly as she sobbed her heart out? Not in eight years. Not since his old man had left without a backward look. That someone would put his mother through this now . . .
    The wedding ring clenched into her fist, she pressed her face into Sam’s shirt. ‘It was the last straw, seeing his finger bare. Having him lie to me about not selling it. I told him to get out of my life. Never to come back. And he never did. God help me, he never did.’ Her sobs became more desperate, each breath she drew harder than the last until Sam’s helplessness became fear.
    ‘Mom, please. You have to calm down. You’ll have another heart attack.’
    She shook her head. ‘He didn’t lie. He still had it. Why didn’t he wear it?’
    God only knew why his father had done any of the things he’d done. He’d probably pawned it for drug money or maybe even had taken it off because he was having an affair.
    ‘I don’t know, Mom. I don’t know. But throwing him out was something you had to do. He was never going to get clean.’
    Her sobs faded to little whimpers. ‘But he might still be alive if I’d let him stay.’
    ‘You don’t know that,’ Sam said gently. ‘He was an addict. He wasn’t going to change. That has nothing to do with you or what you said.’
    Another heavy sigh. ‘I suppose.’
    ‘I know .’ He tipped up her chin. ‘Go