Free Shadow of Doubt by Norah McClintock Page A

parking lot, and I headed for the bus stop up the street.
    The man Morgan had pointed out earlier was still standing in front of the school and still twisting an unlit cigarette between the leather-gloved thumb and forefinger of one hand. Tiny shreds of tobacco littered the snow at his feet. He didn’t turn when I walked past him, but continued to stare at the school, watching the door as if he were waiting for someone to walk through it. He’d been there for at least twenty minutes in the bitter January cold. I wondered who he was waiting for. He looked too young to be the father of a high-school student, but you never know.

I
    pushed open the door to my father’s loft.
    â€œRobbie!” my dad said. “What a pleasant surprise.”
    Surprise?
I thought.
    The weekend of the twenty-ninth, I was supposed to stay at his place. I wondered if he’d forgotten. As for the pleasant part, a couple things told me that he maybe wasn’t being entirely truthful about that. The first was the way he looked at Vernon Deloitte, who was sitting opposite him at the kitchen counter. Vern is an ex–police officer like my father. The two of them are business partners. My dad had given Vern one of those guarded glances that cops give each other when they’ve been talking business and a civilian suddenly arrives on the scene. The second thing was the way Vern immediately flipped shut the Moleskine notebook that had been lying open on the counter in front of him. He greeted me with a great big hello while slipping the notebook into his jacket pocket.
    â€œI thought you and Ben were going out tonight,” my dad said.
    â€œWe were.”
    â€œProblem?”
    â€œSomething came up,” I said. Ben had called me right after school and apologized. He said he had to pick something up downtown. He said it was important—couldn’t wait. “We’re getting together tomorrow instead.”
    My father glanced at Vern before flashing me one of those charming smiles that always irritate my mother. “Does this mean I’ll have the pleasure of your company for supper, Robbie?”
    â€œUnless you and Vern are working on something,” I said.
    â€œNot at all,” my father said. “Vern was just on his way out.”
    On cue, Vern stood up. I bet they even thought they were fooling me. I dropped my backpack near the door, pulled off my boots, and hung my coat in the closet. As I was shutting the closet door, I saw Vern hand my dad a couple sheets of notebook paper, which my dad slipped into the napkin drawer. I turned away so that they wouldn’t know I had seen. When I glanced at them again, Vern was pulling on the jacket that had been draped over the back of his chair. My dad and I went down to La Folie, the gourmet restaurant that occupies the main floor of my father’s building. In addition to being the restaurant’s landlord, my father was good friends with the owner. A while after we ordered, I said, “Ted’s really happy that you found his daughter. They got together yesterday—at my school.”
    â€œI know,” my dad said.
    Of course he did. My dad seemed to know everything.
    â€œHe told Mom that he thinks you’re a modern-day Sherlock Holmes for finding her. I can’t think of a better daughter for Ted. Ms. Denholm is really nice. Everyone likes her.”
    â€œMmmm,” my dad said. His way of saying, “No comment.”
    â€œShe is nice, right, Dad? She isn’t a crazed ax murderer or anything like that, is she?”
    â€œNot that I’m aware of, Robbie.”
    â€œSo what’s the problem?”
    â€œWho says there’s a problem?”
    My father is a smart guy, but sometimes not smart enough to realize that I’ve known him all my life, which means that I usually know when there’s something he’s not saying.
    The waiter appeared and delivered my father’s order. My father eyed it